Battlemonkey's travel blogs:
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White Christmas lights were strung through the trees. They dangled like Spanish moss, weakly illuminating the way as our car bounced across the field toward a member of the high school marching band who wielded a flashlight. He directed us to a wide open spot in the field. Like one of those guys on the tarmac of an airport, he slowly waved us in with his light, crossing his arms and nodding when we were supposed to stop, as if we'd needed his keen guidance to fit into the acre or so on either side of us.
Start of travels: Oct 06, 1993
End of travels: Oct 06, 1993
Jump to latest entry: A Fair to Remember
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