We extended our stay in the Southern Village until Wednesday, when we figured our unauthorized campsite in the parking lot couldn't possibly be tolerated any longer by the most compassionate Southern Village residents. I mean, you can only push the fame and fortune of The Extreme Road Trip so far. And we didn't want to step on any toes with the persistent presence of our rig.
Brian and Leon.
But before our mid-week departure, we got to know the town of Chapel Hill. Brian let us in on the secret that Pizza & Pasta on Franklin street was by far the best eatery in town. As a result, we patronized it four times during our stay. Brian's and Leon's roommate Joe is an incredible cellist, and our timing was such that we got to witness his master class with Yo Yo Ma, in town for a concert. Talk about a phenomenal musician, instructor, liver of life.
We spent another evening at Chef Brian's, who whipped up a Cuban black bean dish. On our way to this event, we stopped by at the nearest Harry Teeter (aka supermarket chain of North Carolina) to pick up a six-pack of beer for our hosts. I was buying, I was equipped with ID. The checker, however, quickly confiscated the lager off the black conveyor belt when she learned that Brant was not also equipped with ID. Apparently the Harry Teeter law is that everyone in the party must have ID showing them to be of legal age if anyone in the party is to purchase an alcoholic beverage. From this, we deduced that no parents could ever buy alcohol at the grocery store if they had kids in tow. So if you live in NC and decide to have kids, be prepared to reenter prohibition.
So we drove on to Brian's house, where I hitched a ride with Leon, complete with ID, back to Harry's to reclaim my right as a 25-year-old to buy a beer.
Zoomers trying to stow-away on the rig.
The next morn we were set to hasta la vista Chapel Hill. In a fit of randomness and within the clenching grips of road-trip-fever, we decided to haul out to New Orleans. Word had reached us that our new friends Ryan and Izzy would be found just outside of Sin City, and besides we were about due for some beignets. So we through our previous plans into the North Carolina breeze and headed south on Highway 85.
Ahh. The freedom of the road.
