Anchoring this upper end of 12South is Mirror, the restaurant that initiated Nashvillians into the mysteries of tapas. The blue cheese polenta fries, served with a charred tomato dipping sauce, are amazing, as is the bruschetta. The proprietors recommend a dry sherry to go with both, but you also can't go wrong with a cucumber martini or a Belgian Trappist ale. Or the ''Bob Deanie,'' a froth of single malt and bitters served, as the menu promises, ''ice-cold like [the] heart'' of the restaurant's droll barkeep, the drink's namesake and creator.

Across the street from Mirror on 12th is a row of refurbished bungalows inhabited by dealers of antiques and collectibles. At the Emporium, you'll find singularities like wood sculptures made with chain saws and a light fixture fashioned from a clarinet by a pair of artists who call themselves the Twisted Sisters. One door down from Mirror to the south (unknown to most local people) is Dolly Parton's rehearsal studio, a faux hacienda complex that could have been airlifted from the back lot of Universal Studios. Of special note is the kitschy chapel, which accommodates five people, tops. Regrettably, it's not open to the public.

Nashville, of course, is the buckle of the Bible Belt, and there is no shortage of churches along 12South. Almost all of them are Protestant and African-American and, with one exception, modest red-brick buildings with small white steeples. The house of worship that stands out, however, is the Islamic Center, a hub for the city's growing Muslim population. Those who congregate out front and in the parking lot after services represent one aspect of the changing face of Nashville, which is now home to tens of thousands of people from Eastern Europe, the Middle East and Far East and central Africa. It's not unusual, on a Friday afternoon, to see a ribbon of yellow and orange taxis parked around the Islamic Center belonging to the Somali drivers inside. On Fridays passers-by may hear the numinous droning of those assembled for evening prayer drifting into the street.

Such epiphanies are more accessible now that there are sidewalks along this part of 12th Avenue. The street has yet to give way to a proliferation of strollers and joggers, though; there's just not enough of a shoulder, and traffic tends to speed by at a nerve-racking clip. Better to park near a favorite spot and work your way a few blocks up and down in each direction, and then drive to another point and do the same.

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You can't go wrong starting at Becker's, a family-owned bakery that's been in business for more than 75 years. Everything is made from scratch; both the fancy wafers (pastel-colored butter cookies) and the chess tarts (with a rich Southern pie filling consisting of butter, sugar and eggs) are great with a double espresso from Portland Brew across the way. A block or so north, you can browse for vintage clothing at Katy K Ranch Dressing.

Katy K is the brainchild of Katy Kattelman, who used to have a shop in Manhattan. Besides her own handmade creations, which run a gamut of styles from rockabilly to punk, Katy sells rhinestone-studded originals by celebrated rodeo tailors like Nudie and Manuel. A canary-colored cowboy shirt stitched with wagon wheels and cactuses, once worn by a member of Porter Wagoner's band, was on display until recently when it went for $200 on eBay.

For a different sort of wearable art, there's Tye Dye Mary's, above Granny's Flower Shop at the south end of the strip, right before 12th turns into Granny White Pike. My 12-year-old son, Marshall, has at least a dozen of Mary's T-shirts. She tie-dyes everything from panties and prom jackets to linens and doggy T-shirts, the last adorning the dogs who chase Frisbees on the sloping green of Sevier Park across the street.

Nashville, of course, is renowned as Music City, and as the Country Music Capital of the World in particular. Yet there aren't any listening rooms along 12South, just a pair of music stores, Corner Music and Fork's Drum Closet. Occasionally, a portable stage or band shell goes up in Sevier Park, where the likes of Uhuru, an African dance troupe, and Mystic Meditations, a local reggae band, have performed. For country music, though, you have to head back up 12th toward downtown, about a mile or so past the 12South strip, to the Station Inn. A roadhouse straight out of a mountain hollow, the Station has been a mecca for bluegrass since the 1970's. The heady likes of Bill Monroe, Ralph Stanley and Earl Scruggs as well as inheritors like Alison Krauss and Nickel Creek have graced its stage.

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Five blocks north of the Station Inn on 12th as you cross Broadway is 12th and Porter Playroom, a cave of a lounge known for booking rootsy singer-songwriters like Alejandro Escovedo and Freedy Johnston. In a series of memorable acoustic dates at 12th and Porter in the mid-90's, Lucinda Williams worried over the songs that became ''Car Wheels on a Gravel Road.''

On 12th as you head into town, at the corner of 12th and Edgehill, is a historic marker commemorating the legendary harmonica player DeFord Bailey. A favorite on the Grand Ole Opry from 1927, and the first black star in country music, Bailey was fired from the Opry under murky circumstances in 1941, after which he opened a shoeshine shop, eventually dying in obscurity. It's a disgrace that he's not yet a member of the Country Music Hall of Fame.

Before venturing from 12South downtown in pursuit of music, though, stop at Las Paletas for a handmade Mexican popsicle. Made from fresh ingredients by Irma and Norma Paz, paletas are an ordinary treat in Mexico but still a novelty in Nashville. The flavors range from mango and hibiscus to chocolate-wasabi and cucumber-chili-pepper. ''Two-dollar adventures,'' one customer called them.

There's no sign out front of Las Paletas, so keep an eye out for 2907 12th Avenue South; for advertising, the Paz sisters rely on the vigorous word-of-mouth of their evangelical customers. No doubt Granny White, whose delicacies and gift for hospitality inspired similar devotion, would have been proud.