South of the Border

    It appears like a mirage off the I-95 and materializes into an overgrown Mexican-kitsch rest stop straddling the border of North and South Carolina. But South of the Border is no ordinary rest stop. Statues of a bowlegged Mexican mariachis are scattered throughout the complex, and a sombrero topped tower presides over the park. There are themed restaurants, motels, and even a zoo. Beyond the shimmer of steaming asphalt sit yellow painted gift shops guarded by palmettos. It is tempting to think it is some strange dream or some mythic expanding creature, aiming to lure tourists as victims to its roadside lair. But in reality, there are reasonable explanations for the existence of South of the Border. Like South Dakota’s Wall Drug or the many quirky roadside attractions in the Midwest, South of the Border is a symbol of a bygone era of the American road, a time before air travel became the norm. And so, like all before and all after who stop at South of the Border, each person must eventually move on.