Downtown Roswell, Georgia, a suburb about 14 miles north of Atlanta's Buckhead neighborhood, feels much like a little English village. Clockmakers, painters, tidy and cute cottages, the whole bowl of cheerios. Now, as restaurant men with an affinity for country pubs opened Salt Factory, Roswell really feels like Sussex.

In Atlanta for the Bama-Florida game—the Tebow Blowout—we Crimson Tiders needed to drown some serious sorrows. Destination: Two Urban Licks, a short cab ride away from the scene of disaster.

Yesterday I hit the red leather-bound volumes of Southern Living, starting at the top left corner of the shelves in 1966. What I found felt very much like a time capsule.

Have you heard of CityPass? If not, then listen up: There's no better value offer for exploring Atlanta and Houston (plus other major metropolises outside the South) than CityPass. The booklet of tickets is basically a pocket-sized, front-of-the-line golden ticket to each city's spotlighted attractions. All-in-one for less of a price.

If you were in Houston, you would pay $34 for adults/$24 for kids and recieve entry into Space Center Houston (NASA); Downtown Aquarium; Houston Museum of Natural Science; Houston Zoo; either The Health Museum OR George Ranch Historical Park; either Museum of Fine Arts, Houston OR The Children’s Museum of Houston. The adult value for this package would be more than $65. Plus, the CityPass comes with preferential seating and a free appetizer at one of 33 Landry's restaurants in the city.

If you were in Atlanta, adults pay $69/kids $49 to access World of Coca-Cola; Zoo Atlanta; CNN Atlanta; Georgia Aquarium; High Museum of Art OR the Atlanta History Center; Fernbank Museum of Natural History OR Atlanta Botanical Garden. A normal adults entry into these places would cost nearly $120. The added value in ATL comes for shoppers: Lenox and Phipps malls honor the CityPass with savings options in selected stores.

If you do find yourself in either Houston or Atlanta, I can't help but give my two cents tips for favorites in each. In H-town, Hermann Park is awesome; the reflecting pool and the Sam Houston statue reminds me of the Mall in DC. It's a wonderful morning spot. For Atlanta, I have three words. Get. To. Decatur. Especially for two fantastic restaurants: Brick Store Pub and Cakes and Ale, shown to the left. Stellar.

To read up on both cities, visit our Southern Living's website by clicking on the city names Atlanta and Houston. And before you visit, check into CityPass.

(Photos by Art Meripol)

"Black bears rarely attack. But here's the thing. Sometimes they do. That doesn't happen often, but - and here is the absolutely salient point - once would be enough." - Bill Bryson, A Walk in the Woods

I took several walks in the woods this weekend. The jaunts led me along leaf-covered paths of yellow poplar, sassafras, white oak, sweetgum, and red maple so bright your heart could burst. Though I love and grew up exploring the woods, I do not adequately remember the sounds of the woods. You might call me a woodsman right after you call me a Braves prospect. This is why I thought a bear was about to jump me while hiking the Springer Mountain Loop this weekend near Ellijay, Georgia.

What does it say that one town can be proud of having produced both Br'er Rabbit and the Color Purple? Eatonton, GA takes some pride in having been home to both authors Joel Chandler Harris and Alice Walker. The former created the Uncle Remus Tales, starring an ebonic-speaking rabbit most famous for his encounter with a "tar baby." His stories, interpretations of black folk tales he heard from storytellers were popular once with audiences black and white.

In later years, writers including Alice Walker have taken offense at what they and others view as Harris' being credited for what amounts to inappropriate cultural acquisition. Alice Walker, known for her portrayals of long-suffering, but powerfully staunch women of color, also wrote an essay called "Uncle Remus: No Friend of Mine."

As I sped through the darkness Saturday night racing toward my next assignment, I hit the seek button on the radio over and over again. I was hoping to hear a broadcast of the Alabama-Georgia game delivered by UGA's snarling, growling play-by-play announcer, Larry Munson.

But that was not to be.

For the first time in more than 40 years, the University of Georgia took the field at Sanford Stadium in Athens without the legendary Munson behind the microphone. No wonder the Dawgs wore black.

Recently, Time Magazine (a publication owned by our parent company) published a story titled, "50 Authentic American Experiences." These huge types of magazine articles always intrigue me. Rarely do I not grab the magazine or click on the story to see what editors spotlight as the best BBQ in Texas, the greatest songwriters of all-time, or America's favorite beaches. I love the breadth of expertise and the narrowing down of opinions.

Time, though, missed the mark, especially in the South. I'll offer my thoughts and you can decide.

Virginia Tech escaped with a 20-17 win over Georgia Tech Saturday evening thanks in large part to Tyrod Taylor's legs.

The recently unredshirted quarterback scrambled for 74 yards on 15 attempts, scoring a touchdown on a two-yard keeper late in the first half. Though Taylor completed only 9 of 14 passes for an anemic 48 yards, his happy feet seemed to energize the orange-clad crowd. "See!" exclaimed the man in front of me, who turned around each and every time the fleet-footed playmaker sprinted across the field. "Sean Glennon could never do that."

This good-natured ribbing occurred because I foolishly declared a desire to see senior quarterback Sean Glennon play after interviewing him over the summer. Because his team offers little pass protection and a lack of talented receivers, the strong-armed Glennon is useless to the Hokies and was left sitting Saturday.

Of course, Taylor had some help from Georgia Tech's mistake-riddled offense. The 'Jackets tallied 387 yards total offense, but coughed up the ball three times, twice turning over the ball. They also had eight penalties for 61 yards and one interception. The Hokie faithful breathed a sigh of relief when the last play ground to a halt, and most felt lucky to end the day with a win.

Sharks, rays, and groupers, oh my! The fish at the Georgia Aquarium really are big enough to cause me to pause . . . I've donned a wetsuit and mask, and I'm floating in the world's largest aquarium feeling as if I've discovered another universe. And I have. I've joined the Journey With the Gentle Giants program, which places six guests face to face with Trixie and Alice, 20-foot-long whale sharks. For a price (and yes, it's priceless!), you too can join the marine biologists on a daily swim here.

(South Carolina's 1,500-year-old Angel Oak. Photo credit.)

When I think of trees, I think of the four spring-flowering Bradford Pears that made a square in my childhood backyard. How the trees formed a lane perfect for pitching baseballs (to my mother mostly). How I watched them, unknowingly, grow from weak treelings to wonderful, burgundy-leafed adults. And how they sort of watched me rise as well. Trees are markers of the changing seasons, givers of shade, reminders of time, and anchors to place.

Here are a few famous ones in the South that bring to mind the words of William Cullen Bryant, "The groves were God's first temples."

(Photo of Charleston's Beard-winner, Hominy Grill, by Shayna Anne)

Foodie powers-that-be recently announced this year's James Beard Awards, the highest culinary accolade out there, America's meal medal of honor. The shindig, which you can see via pictures on the JB Foundation website, looked to be a real tony affair, with the tops of our nation's restauranteurs/chefs/food writers toasting their love of cuisine. And once again the  contingent who call our proud region home showed up bigtime at the celebration.

(Photos by Matt Bigelow and Kelsey Blackwell)

A tree grew straight through the passenger side window of this rusted-out 1957 Chevy truck in Providence Canyon State Park in Lumpkin, Georgia. (Google map).