Other arms reach out to me....Atlanta, Day the Last. And a wrap up.

And as all good things do, our trip to Atlanta was coming to an end. Atlanta, the last. And I was saving the best of last. Best in my book, probably not in Ton’s. I had planned a trip to the High Museum in Atlanta. They do allow photography of their collection, but do NOT allow online posting of the collection. And you sign an agreement when you walk in the door. I respect that, so I won’t post any collection photos. But they do have quite a lovely collection! And the museum itself if quite lovely, too.




The unexpected highlight of our trip to the High Museum was the works by sculptor Grainger McKoy. His atypical but incredibly detailed carvings of birds were breathtaking. Every feather, every vein, was perfect. You can visit his website and view it for yourself.

After leaving the High, we wandered through downtown Atlanta, past the Federal Reserve where they were having some sort of emergency alarm. It was surrounded by police, while office workers complained about their lunch being interrupted. I felt it wasn’t prudent to whip out a camera and take photos of them, considering the police presence. So, we continued up the street to our destination—Margaret Mitchell’s house.



It was here, in what was then apartment number one, that Margaret Mitchell wrote Gone With the Wind.
After that, I had seen all that I came to see in Atlanta and our time was up. Dinner that night was another highly recommended restaurant in Buckhead, Eclipse Di Luna. The food and service was fantastic but it is definitely a place where you want to go with a large group of friends and hang out. Not really a romantic, cozy place but more of a festive atmosphere. But that’s the heart and soul of tapas, so no surprises. I have to admit, I had too much sangria and forgot to take a photo of anything I ate. Bad me!!! NO biscuit!!! We followed up with a cozy coffee and dessert at our favorite restaurant of the trip, Buckhead Diner. We lingered over coffee (with kahlua, of course) at the bar, watched the regulars come and go, and planned our return trip home.

My feelings towards at Atlanta are mixed. It was a good trip, there is a lot of fun to be had in the area. But Atlanta seems to lack heart. There’s no pulse to the city, no heat. It’s too spread out to be walkable, and their public transportation is sadly lacking. I had been warned about violent crime but saw no signs of danger. In fact, I didn’t see much activity at all. We were there during the week, at times when downtown should have been busy. Instead it felt depressed, and slightly dingy. In other words, it was a nice place to visit, I have fond memories, but it left me with no desire to return. Oh, well. There are other places. And not everywhere can steal your heart like Amsterdam!