Girl Who Travels

Travel Date: March 2026

On the Road Again…

Day two takes us across Tennessee, from Knoxville to Memphis. While the asphalt remains a steady gray, the highway shoulders have been popping with color. A constant parade of Eastern Redbuds lines the route; their vibrant magenta blooms stand out brilliantly against the early spring greens and browns. It’s as if nature decided to install its own neon signs to keep us company.

These bursts of magenta-pink were hard to miss and truly made the long drive feel special. It’s a reminder of how something so simple as flowers blooming can be so beautiful.

Burgers and Religious Iconography

Around lunchtime, hunger began to set in. We didn’t have a specific destination in mind until a familiar yellow arrow beckoned from the distance. We actually overshot the exit, but a quick assist from Google Maps navigated us back to a Southern rarity: In-N-Out Burger. This was only my second visit—the first being in San Francisco—and it was predictably packed and delicious. I tried my burger “animal style” this time; it was good, but I think I’ll stick to the classic preparation in the future.

Back on the road, we encountered another distinct landmark of the Southern American road trip: an enormous cross. Our third of the trip, to be specific. Towering over the tree line at what must have been nearly 200 feet, these massive steel structures are a regional staple—impossible to miss and a looming reminder of the area’s unique cultural character. There is something surreal about seeing such a stark, geometric symbol of faith rising directly out of the dense Tennessee brush, competing with the cell towers for the highest point on the horizon. They serve as silent, white sentinels for the passing motorist, marking the miles and defining the landscape as unmistakably “The South” just as much as the BBQ joints and the redbud trees.

Arrival and First Impressions

Arriving in Memphis, I finally understood the soul behind the lyrics of “Walking in Memphis.” There is a palpable spirit here, a thick, historical hum that vibrates through the pavement and sticks to you like the humidity. From the moment we pulled in, the city felt less like a destination and more like a living, breathing character in our story.

After some time navigating the city, we finally checked into the Canopy by Hilton Beale Street. The hotel is incredible—a perfect blend of modern industrial chic and soulful local history, full of character and vibrancy. Because we booked a corner room, we were treated to an expansive dual-street view that made the space feel like a private gallery overlooking the heart of the city. But, more on that later. First, food.

A Memphis Pilgrimage: Arnold’s BBQ

With lunch a distant memory, we quickly set out for the quintessential Memphis experience: barbecue. We bypassed the flashy tourist traps for a spot about a half-mile walk from our hotel called Arnold’s BBQ and Grill. It’s the kind of unpretentious hole-in-the-wall you dream of finding—tucked down a narrow alleyway near the ballpark, where the smell of hickory smoke hits you long before you see the door.

The food was absolutely stellar, but the service was just as memorable. Our waitress, Sherri, was a total force of nature; she was a whirlwind of efficiency, single-handedly managing every table in the place with a sharp wit while somehow never letting our glasses run dry. This was my first time truly diving into Memphis BBQ and my first real encounter with brisket. Honestly? Between the bark on the meat and that signature sauce, it was a near-religious experience that made every mile of the day’s drive worth it.

The Magic of the Evening

As we waited for our Lyft back to the hotel and the day turned to night, the atmosphere shifted from “travel day” to “Memphis magic.” I caught the sunset dipping into the alley, washing the scene in a majesty of colors. I snapped a quick photo that ended up being one of my favorites of the entire trip.

I love urban photography more than any other form, and this shot captured exactly why: the grit of the asphalt and cement, beautiful in its aged patina, illuminated by that perfect golden hour light.

Returning to our room, we watched through the glass as the neon signs began to hum to life below us, casting a neon-pink and electric-blue glow over the pavement. The world outside began to glow, and the muffled, soulful sounds of blues from B.B. King’s wafted right up through our window. It was the ultimate soundtrack for a night in the Home of the Blues, turning our room into a front-row seat to the rhythm of Beale Street without us even having to put our shoes back on.

Tomorrow, we will spend the day in Memphis, and I can’t wait to share the experience with you.