Summoning the Spirit of Beale Street in Memphis, Tennessee
Lonely neon glowing signs illuminate Beale Street, a true Sunday service for music-lovers. November is off-season—no blues festivals, Elvis week, nor summer lovin’. But, the music plays on. Johnny Cash tribute bands strum heavenly somber and jubilant tunes in the many blues cafes, where booze flows like wine. Bar staff dominates Beale, smoking cigarettes and luring in tourists by feeding them wet pork rib samples—Memphis’ pride and joy. Hot damn! The tender, lip-smackin’ pork will be the finest rack of ribs you’ve ever bitten into. Now, full and belligerent, you’ll swear you saw Elvis singing under the blue moon.
Memphis is a hidden jewel of the South, with Beale Street and LoDo leading the way. Everything is here, nightly entertainment, innovative cuisine, and the polite ways of the south. I was firmly captivated and surprised by Memphis, thanks to the great blog, ilovememphis! Graceland, Stax Records, and Sun Studio are perfect for the music lover. The downtown trolley runs almost all day and night, plus Beale Street is a nice wlak from the downtown hotels. Make sure to drop by the old Peabody Hotel for a taste of southern hospitality.
Indulge in a feast for the palate, ears, and soul on Beale Street in Memphis, TN. It’s closed to traffic, evenings and weekends. Stroll and boogie freely with your alcoholic drinks at this street party. Snap your fingers, tap your toes, or shake your booty to live blues, rhythm and blues, jazz, and rock and roll bands at 20+ clubs and eateries along a three-block strip. Catch local blues “jump up bands” at W.C. Handy Park; sit in if you have your own ax. Grab tamales, smoked turkey legs, or ribs sinfully slathered with barbecue sauce to fuel your trip.
Lonely neon glowing signs illuminate Beale Street, a true Sunday service for music-lovers. November is off-season—no blues festivals, Elvis week, nor summer lovin’. But, the music plays on. Johnny Cash tribute bands strum heavenly somber and jubilant tunes in the many blues cafes, where booze flows like wine. Bar staff dominates Beale, smoking cigarettes and luring in tourists by feeding them wet pork rib samples—Memphis’ pride and joy. Hot damn! The tender, lip-smackin’ pork will be the finest rack of ribs you’ve ever bitten into. Now, full and belligerent, you’ll swear you saw Elvis singing under the blue moon.
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