Page 45 of What Would Dolly Do?

‘Mr Coltrane said I was to take you straight to the hotel now as he thought you’d be tired and would need to rest. He’ll see you tomorrow,’ Dawn told me as she manoeuvred the large luxury car out of the airport and headed onto the freeway.

I gazed out into the darkness spotting only enormous road signs and occasional bright lights.

This was my very first visit to America but I couldn’t get any true sense of where I was in the world.

I was itching to explore this incredible place I’d always longed to see but right now going straight to bed sounded like the best idea.

I’d heard that keeping to the time schedule of the place you were in was the best way to avoid jet lag.

Hopefully if I went to bed now I should be fresh as a daisy in the morning and could reunite with Tom bright-eyed and wearing fresh clothes instead of my travelling comfies: that seemed like a smart move for several reasons.

Just twenty minutes after leaving the airport the limo swept into the impressive entrance drop-off area of The Opryland Resort Hotel.

Dawn told me The Grand Ole Opry itself was ‘right next door’ but I was already learning that Americans used our quaint English expressions very loosely.

Opryland was a vast complex covering several acres and no matter how much I craned my neck I had zero chance of spotting The Opry theatre ‘next door’.

Once inside the hotel I felt like Dorothy Gale from The Wizard of Oz stepping out of her little house after a tornado had dropped it in a strange and magical land somewhere over the rainbow.

The ‘hotel’ I was staying in wasn’t a hotel in any sense I had ever experienced before.

Beyond reception it opened up into a series of vast glass atriums each with a different landscaped theme!

As the concierge led me to my room it was like I was wandering through an illustration in a children’s storybook.

There were picture-perfect buildings of all different sizes surrounded by lush vegetation and a series of bridges and walkways over streams and waterfalls.

A beautiful New Orleans-style building on an island housed a full-sized library, other pastel-painted houses contained shops, cafes and restaurants.

In my befuddled state I wasn’t sure I would ever find my way through the maze of bridges and tunnels to discover all the various attractions being pointed out to me.

I truly knew I wasn’t in Edinburgh anymore when a full-size riverboat sailed past along the waterway.

‘Am I in Disneyland?’

The young man smiled as I gazed around at the five stories of balconied rooms surrounding the Toy Town-style buildings and tropical jungle.

‘I like to think it’s more like a Hollywood backlot,’ he answered.

‘That way I can pretend I’m the hero of the movie when I’m showing folk around.

’ With that, he handed me a small folded map of the inside of the hotel to help me find my way to breakfast the next morning.

He was no Tom Cruise but in that moment he became a hero to me.

My room was gorgeous, with a fabulous view from the balcony over the mini world below, but as soon as I spotted the bed I wasn’t really interested in any of the cool features like coffee machines or rainfall showers that Carter the wannabe movie star was trying to point out to me.

I tipped him generously and he gave me a Top Gun -style salute as he left.

Cute, but I was doubtful I would ever cross paths with Carter again in the vastness of The Opryland Resort.

The next morning, I consulted my map and then set out to locate breakfast as though I was embarking on a major expedition.

Maybe it was a good map or maybe it was just my intense desire for fresh coffee and hot bacon rolls but my mission was extremely successful.

I soon had a waitress showing me to my table situated on a tiny island beneath a mountain of rocks with a series of hot springs spritzing and gushing all around me.

Carter was right, the place did feel like a movie set, and today I felt like an extra in The Flintstones – yabba-dabba-do – this place could make someone feel slightly insane.

My need to eat had been top priority once I’d opened my eyes: I was starving.

I’d slept pretty well but I was showered and dressed and sitting down for breakfast by 7.

30 a.m. so I wasn’t too surprised I hadn’t yet heard from Tom.

I was on my second cup of coffee when I felt my phone vibrate in my bag – it was a message from Dawn asking me what time I could be ready for her to pick me up?

I didn’t want to waste a moment. I’d come all this way and as gorgeous and hilarious as I was finding The Opryland Resort I wanted to get out into the realness of Tennessee now.

I’d also started to ache to see Tom, it was like I could almost sense the nearness of him now I was on his patch.

Nashville was his American home and I badly wanted to see if he was the same here as I remembered him on his home turf.

I quickly texted back saying I could be ready by 9 a.m. I hoped that wasn’t too early but I was raring to go and I was already dressed in Nashville-appropriate attire.

I wanted to be comfortable in the Southern summer heat but I also wanted to look the part in the home of country music.

My strapless white cotton prairie summer dress would keep me cool and the flared skirt ended just above my tan suede western ankle boots.

I wore a blue denim waistcoat worn open over the dress and tied back my hair, which was now a mane of wild red waves, with a green cowboy-style neckerchief.

I was ready for Nashville, I just needed to find out … was Nashville ready for me?