Gatlinburg
I misspoke in my last entry—I have been to Pigeon Forge. When I wrote that last night, I’d forgotten and it later came back to me. Back then, we also went to Gatlinburg since it was in close proximity. We did the same thing today.
From what I remember, not a whole lot has changed since the late-90s; putt-putt golf is still a major presence, there are loads of trinket and fried food shops, and it’s still just as crowded along the main drag. I liked the The Village Shops for its walkable, European-inspired architecture and winding alleyways. Though they were too expensive to ride, I thought the ski lifts looked fun, too. I was surprised by the number of ice cream shops open in winter, but I guess there’s still a demand for it. A Trump “superstore” conveniently shares a building with an adult sex shop, effectively sequestering Gatlinburg’s center of depravity while sandwiched between a “family fun parlor” and something called “Chocolate Monkey.” Even in cold, grey December, Gatliburg’s cup still runneths over with color and an undeniable vibrancy (for better or worse).
To a child, the arcades and attractions must be incredible. To an adult, it felt a sliver of Orlando on a budget with National Parks nearby. I won’t say it was great or terrible. It just is what it is.