And to nothingness we shall return.

From New Orleans I made my way to the gulf coast in Mississippi to meet a couple of people who some friends and I had met online at the beginning of the year. The bus journey was only a couple of hours which was fantastic after some of the longer ones I’ve done. No, I didn’t manage to stay awake the whole way.

On my way into Gulfport, where I was staying, I spotted a shop which sells cowboy boots and made a mental note for later. The Greyhound station was tiny in comparison to my other destinations in proportion to the size of the town, and I was looking forward to seeing a different kind of American settlement with a very different character to the large cities I’d stayed in so far.

Once I’d checked in Crissy picked me up and we went for food. When I ordered I was a little bit confused to see the 40-odd year old Jamaican waitress have what appeared to be a fairly violent but brief seizure until she asked me to say it again. Ah yes, the accent.

We followed our meal with a drive while we decided what to do. There wasn’t really any doubt in my mind and we headed straight for the boot shop. Although it had plenty of great boots on a par with some of those I’d seen in Nashville it also had a few pairs which should never have been approved in the design stages, and some of the shirts wouldn’t have been out of place in an annual ‘Worst Shirt Ever Made’ competition. When we’d finished there we went to the mall which seemed like a wonderfully stereotypically American thing to do.

Nothing was purchased until we got to Scuba Steve’s stall. For every shirt he sells, he donates another one to a homeless shelter, and Crissy couldn’t resist a neon vest. We chatted to Steve for a little while and he seemed like a very friendly man. He was also very jealous of my accent, and seemingly the fact that I was from England too. After a little more mall-browsing we went to get ready to meet Molly for dinner at an Italian restaurant. Luckily for me the male waiter didn’t react at all.

The next day we just chilled during the day before attending what was, according to the billboard outside Kirk’s Biz’zar, ‘The Best Metal Show of the Year’ headlined by a band called Goatwhore. A charming name, I’m sure you’ll agree. We met a few people there who found my presence fairly fascinating and spent quite a while asking me about England. It was good to mix with a group of locals going about their business without other tourists around, even if they were a little bit too fueled by alcohol and possibly drugs.

The bar itself was, as one of the support bands declared, a ‘shithole’ which was uncomfortably warm in spite of the air conditioning. Seventy year old men would be best keeping their shirts on, if you ask me. There was very little room for the crowd in front of the small platform which passed as a stage and I had a great deal of trouble ordering a bottle of water because the barmaid couldn’t understand my accent. After some time outside being just as hot as we were inside and dripping with sweat we went back in to listen to some music. To my surprise, Revocation were playing. I’d got a couple of their albums not long before I came away on my trip and they’ve been part of my Greyhound listening. Unfortunately the singer had pneumonia so the bassist took over on vocals and they had to cut their set short, but it was still a very nice treat.

After Goatwhore had set up their equipment they took to the stage to shouts of ‘sheepslut’ from some incredibly witty members of the audience. What will they think of next? I didn’t really know what to expect based on the name and satanist imagery so I was pleasantly surprised to find them perfectly listenable. We were sitting at a table to the side of the stage and were frequently treated to people flying out of the mosh pit and colliding with it. I had quite a lot of fun using it as an implement to return them to their rightful place. I also enjoyed watching the strands of the singer’s hair which were getting stuck to the ceiling.

The next day I wanted to take advantage of the glorious heat to go to the beach. All along the coast there are fabulous white sands, although the water is a little murky. Still, it was an excellent way to spend the majority of a day and I’m fairly sure I have a much better tan than I did beforehand. Not wanting to overdo it we went for some food and decided to watch a film. The newest X-Men was the original plan but unfortunately there was only one showing and it was on stupidly late so we saw Horrible Bosses instead. Although some of the humour seemed a little forced at times for the most part it was very entertaining and we enjoyed it.

A little further down the coast is a town called Ocean Springs which has a wonderfully quaint atmosphere and houses a number of galleries and shops. It’s the kind of place I can very much imagine mum enjoying. We were going to go to a donut place which came highly recommended but unfortunately the owners were on holiday.

This place has a very cool name, I’m sure you’ll agree.

It’s not every day you see a cockerel roaming the streets of an American town.

After we’d eaten and had our fill of the town we returned to Gulfport, where we witnessed two idiots drive over a level crossing in spite of the barriers and flashing lights. Sadly no train came. Some of the driving over here really is something else.

I also managed to get a photo in front of a Dollar General. I did some shopping there too. I suppose advertising works!

In the evening I did some sunset photography and I look forward to having a proper look at the results when I get access to a computer with a real screen.

After a little more time hanging out it was time for me to leave, and after we said goodbye I left for the bus station.