The condo we rented via airbnb.com is small but well suited to our needs, with a bedroom, a living room and a nicely equipped kitchen (including orange juice and bagels provided by the owners), and is far less expensive than the hotel room we had originally reserved. It's located on Peachtree St. NE in the Buckhead section of Atlanta, a tony residential area about 5 miles north of the city center. We spent the morning doing laundry, unpacking and in general taking care of the mundane needs of daily life. After lunch we gathered up most of the souvenirs we had acquired along with some of the clothes we won't need immediately upon returning home, and shipped them home. Max had lived in Atlanta for about six months shortly after graduating from Duke and as she remembers lived in an apartment on Peachtree Street, but closer to town. It turns out there are 73 streets, roads, circles, drives, etc. with Peachtree in the name, so we quickly gave up the idea of trying to find her former residence. Instead we drove down our Peachtree Street to find the Margaret Mitchell House, which though constructed as a single family home had been converted to a ten unit apartment complex by the time Margaret and her second husband moved in. It was in Apartment No. 1 (on the lower left in this picture) on the first floorthat she wrote most of "Gone with the Wind," something she said she had done "in a weak moment." We had a most informative tour, which included descriptions of some elements of her personal life (her relationship with her mother, the death of a fiance in war) that are reflected in the characters and/or events in the book. We also got a close up look at the lion's head newel at the base of the stairs right outside Apartment No. 1 that is also referred to in the book. We then left for a Michigan pep rally being held at the headquarters hotel in northwest Atlanta, and soon had a first hand experience with the famous, or should I say infamous, Atlanta traffic, and as a result arrived just in time to see the hordes of maize-and-blue clad fans streaming out of the ballroom in which the event took place. However we did arrive in time to acquire more Michigan paraphernalia, which we hardly needed, and then headed back downtown for dinner at The Varsity, an Atlanta institution which Max remembers as bigger but otherwise the same as it was almost 50 years ago.
The condo we rented via airbnb.com is small but well suited to our needs, with a bedroom, a living room and a nicely equipped kitchen (including orange juice and bagels provided by the owners), and is far less expensive than the hotel room we had originally reserved. It's located on Peachtree St. NE in the Buckhead section of Atlanta, a tony residential area about 5 miles north of the city center. We spent the morning doing laundry, unpacking and in general taking care of the mundane needs of daily life. After lunch we gathered up most of the souvenirs we had acquired along with some of the clothes we won't need immediately upon returning home, and shipped them home. Max had lived in Atlanta for about six months shortly after graduating from Duke and as she remembers lived in an apartment on Peachtree Street, but closer to town. It turns out there are 73 streets, roads, circles, drives, etc. with Peachtree in the name, so we quickly gave up the idea of trying to find her former residence. Instead we drove down our Peachtree Street to find the Margaret Mitchell House, which though constructed as a single family home had been converted to a ten unit apartment complex by the time Margaret and her second husband moved in. It was in Apartment No. 1 (on the lower left in this picture) on the first floorthat she wrote most of "Gone with the Wind," something she said she had done "in a weak moment." We had a most informative tour, which included descriptions of some elements of her personal life (her relationship with her mother, the death of a fiance in war) that are reflected in the characters and/or events in the book. We also got a close up look at the lion's head newel at the base of the stairs right outside Apartment No. 1 that is also referred to in the book. We then left for a Michigan pep rally being held at the headquarters hotel in northwest Atlanta, and soon had a first hand experience with the famous, or should I say infamous, Atlanta traffic, and as a result arrived just in time to see the hordes of maize-and-blue clad fans streaming out of the ballroom in which the event took place. However we did arrive in time to acquire more Michigan paraphernalia, which we hardly needed, and then headed back downtown for dinner at The Varsity, an Atlanta institution which Max remembers as bigger but otherwise the same as it was almost 50 years ago.
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