I’ve never woken up in Georgia before, but I have now. We are in Brunswick, and it is too early to try the stew this city is famous for. So breakfast was something mundane and average, but we’ll be in Savannah by lunchtime, where we have a date with a home-cooking style restaurant, and black-eyed peas, sweet potatoes, and something fried will be on the menu. Meanwhile, we’ll meander and dream of the Brunswick stew we have yet to taste.
Who can come to Georgia for the first time and not have the banjos of Deliverance playing in their head? Maybe the same person who could go to North Carolina and not dream of listening to Blue Velvet in Lumberton. Of course, if you thought the very next sounds in my head had something to do with squealing like a piggy, you’d be correct. Does anyone want to go canoeing with me?
Research for must-see places in Georgia and Wormsloe will be found high on everyone’s list. While the place looks really cool, I had no other information about what was in the state park and with no brochure near the gate, we couldn’t justify the expense of going in for an unknown. That was probably a mistake, but should we ever find ourselves in the Savannah area again, we’ll have something new to see.
This is when infinite amounts of free time and unlimited budgets would come in handy by letting us charter a boat that could take us out on this waterway and any others that might catch our interest. Our time in Georgia was only intended to give us the briefest of impressions of the state, it was quickly becoming apparent that we bungled things and will need a return visit.
Magnolias are right up there with plumeria in the beauty department. I’d swear this thing is as big as Caroline’s head and almost as pretty.
You know you’ve arrived in Savannah upon seeing the famous Forsyth Park fountain. It’s quiet here, not what I expected regarding crowds. This is one of the pleasures of traveling outside of the main tourist season and arriving on a Thursday.
My imagination says come this weekend, these streets will be packed, and by June, it will be wall-to-wall throngs of people, but who knows?
Savannah is turning out to be simply charming. Then again, we’re restricting our explorations to the central historic core and won’t be paying a visit to the suburbs.
This is the city of monuments and squares. There’s a lot of history shared in these open spaces, and helps lend a quality to Savannah that begs for the place to be explored on foot. With an abundance of trees, park benches, and beautiful architecture taking influence from Italianate, Regency, Georgian, Federal, and Romanesque styles, there is much to experience here that dazzles the eye and mind.
And so we just keep on walking…
…. zigzagging as we go with no real plan other than enjoying our short time in the old South.
Sure, we could have gone to the Bonaventure Cemetery, where everyone else goes to see that famous statue made so, by the recent Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil movie, but we chose to meander in the Colonial Park Cemetery because, from our view, the departed all look about the same at this stage.
This monument to the clawfoot tub is only missing a park bench and a larger area to make it into a proper square.
Had a nice chat with a guy we ran into on the street who was from Los Angeles. We’d stopped him to ask for directions, and after he offered us help, I inquired if he was from California. Surprised, he said he was and asked how I knew, “It’s your accent.” With that, he explained he was an author and was on business here for a friend of his named Ben Affleck. He offered to snap this photo of us, which was great as typically I’m in front due to having the camera and shooting selfies all the time.
Can you tell we’ve left Savannah?
These strawberries will not make it to North Carolina.
Update: Fifteen years later, in 2018, we still have this strawberry bucket.
While we are still moving generally north, we are starting our return to the west. This is another new state for Caroline and me to visit and, of course, for my mother-in-law, too. Now, on to the business of trying to create a photographic representation of all that South Carolina has to offer.
First up are the lush landscape and post-depression architecture that lies in decay. Not a lot of shopping in this village or even a cheap motel; even residents were difficult to find.
Why the locals decided to place their park benches in the lake as opposed to next to the lake will forever remain a mystery to us. We were on Highway 221, passing through Parksville, when we stopped in for a view of Lake Thurmond (also known as Clark’s Hill Lake).
Turns out that the abandoned home two photos ago was part of a decaying suburb, but here on Main Street, up in McCormick, a vibrant economy is hard at work with plenty of on-street parking readily available.
We tried crossing the Long Cane Creek with a ferry, but wouldn’t you know it, they are all gone. So we had to make the best of it and paddle the car across this waterway. Good thing we brought oars on this trip. It was here that we decided to travel even smaller roads and took the 81 toward Calhoun Falls.
This home in Mt. Carmel even had electricity at one point.
A couple of old goats came out and welcomed us to their neighborhood, so I can now say I’ve certainly experienced awesome Southern hospitality. We are all encouraged to come back for a more in-depth visit in the future, but for now, we must bid adieu to the fair state of South Carolina.
Wouldn’t you know it, that as we arrived in North Carolina, all radio stations were playing Bobby Vinton or Roy Orbison? That’s a Blue Velvet reference for those of you who are wondering what the hell I’m talking about. By the way, there are NO motels or lodging out here in the woods on the North Carolina/South Carolina state lines.