The next chunk of my trip took me to on a journey back in time to a place of gaslit lamps, southern belles and good old fashion manners. From Alabama, I made my way to Savannah, Georgia then on to Charleston, South Carolina and ended in Charlotte, North Carolina.
In Savannah, yet another one of my amazing gal pals from grad school decided to join me. Both Kim and her mom made a trip down to Savannah that coincided with my journey home. I don’t know how I got so lucky that they would choose to come to Savannah in July when your face pretty much melts off as soon as you step outside, but I’m sure glad they did. Since it was more than a little bit hot out, we decided to explore some of the sites by one of the hop on hop off trolley tours to try and stay “cool”. As we boarded the trolley, we were immediately introduced to our new friend and quite possibly the ace of Savannah, Gertrude. Gertrude was dressed in full regalia of a southern belle complete with a fan in case she all of a sudden got a case of the vapors and needed to fan herself. When I listened to her tell us folklore of Savannah, she was so convincing and entertaining, I had to keep reminding myself that I didn’t just jump in Marty McFly’s Delorean and go back in time.
Take to the River 
Forsythe Park 
Magnolia house or as I like to call it, my favorite 
One of the 24 squares Savannah has
As we hopped on different trolleys and tours throughout the next two days, we very quickly realized that most Savannah legends are sprinkled with a little truth and then it is up to the storyteller to decide how much embellishment is needed to sell the story. I guess that’s how most stories that are passed down from generation to generation end up. One of Savannah’s claim to fame is Jones Street. One tour guide would tell us, it’s been voted prettiest street in the country, another would say the prettiest street in the south and yet another, prettiest street in all of Savannah and even try to convince you that that is where the saying, “Keeping up with the Jones’” came from. I will say this, it’s quite lovely, but I am leaning toward option #3 minus the saying as that came from a comic strip from 1913. That first tour guide might need to branch out a little bit more before making that bold “in the country” statement. He clearly has never been down Main St. in Harbor Springs at Christmas time.
Another aspect of Savannah that is highly touted is that they’ve landed somewhere on the list of “America’s Most Haunted Cities.” Now I don’t know if you’ve been following along all summer or if you just jumped in, but if you’re thinking hmmm strange that a girl who’s legit afraid of the dark would go to a “haunted” city? I can honestly say, it’s not the first thing that pops up when you google “Top 10 things to do in Savannah”. I mean sure I saw they had a Ghosts and Graveyards Tour, but I’m pretty sure Boston has one and I’ve never seen any t-shirts that say “Boston…America’s Most Haunted” on them so I didn’t think it was a thing. Oh, it is. They all love to tell you the “most haunted” houses which of course depending on who you ask and a what time of day, it all changes. We decided that we’d be brave and take one of the Ghosts and Graveyards tour one night. Obviously, when I say we, I mean me. I’m sure most other adults don’t have to work themselves up to participate in these things. I can proudly say I was not really scared nor did any spirits come back to haunt me (well not yet anyway…maybe they are waiting for the right moment). However, THE BEST part of the tour was when we were listening to the “spooky” happenings in this one mansion and Kim’s mom taps this young gentleman of maybe 13 or 14 on the shoulder from behind and he jumped so high and gave quite the yelp. My initial reaction was, “Holy crap, Janet is freaking hysterical to scare that stranger.” Turns out she just couldn’t see and the boy was in her way. Kim and I both got a case of the church giggles and that was pretty much the end of that tour guide’s story.
One thing I found myself doing when I was in Savannah was using a Southern accent. I reckon I did a mighty fine job of passing myself off as someone from the south. Well at least in my mind I did. All too quickly I had to say goodbye to Kim and her mom and get on my way to my next destination, Charleston, South Carolina.
Okay, do y’all remember back in New Mexico when I wanted to and did sleep with the light on because my killer deal of a room for 34 dollars a night had me thinking I just might get killed? Well, I decided that I was going to have a bit of a “treat yo self” moment in Charleston and basically booked one of the bougiest places. Oh Man, when I walked into that lobby, I fell in love. And no ma’am, I do not mean with another human. The doors open automatically and you find yourself in an oasis of blues and reds and oranges and lights aglow. Don’t even get me started on my room…to die for. I knew that I was being a little frivolous with my money but shoot gosh darn, this was totally worth it.
never wanted to leave 
ahhh 
Sunset from the patio
Charleston was behaving just as poorly as its sister to the south Savannah in the heat department. One day, my phone read “feels like 105”!!! Don’t forget we are no longer in the land of dry heat. This was with 95% humidity. Luckily for me, the hotel had three pools. I decided the first afternoon after check-in, I’d hunker down by the pool, enjoy the “treat of the day” (which was ice cream or popsicle) and catch up on some of my library books that were about to expire. I don’t know about ya’ll but when all the library books you put on hold come in and all the deadlines are fast approaching it can be very stressful. Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to waste all my time in Charleston by the pool. Heat or no heat, I was going to get myself out there. The next day, I woke up bright and early in an attempt to beat the heat and crowds. My first stop, Boone Hall Plantation. If you grew up in New England like me, the only plantation you’ve probably been to is the Plymouth Plantation and that is a museum and this, as I was told, was still a working plantation. I also was told that the movie The Notebook was filmed here and I think you’d be hard pressed to find someone that didn’t want a little Noah and Allie magic in their lives…even if it was only by proxy. If you ever do take a trip down to the Boone Hall Plantation here are my recommendations for you. Absolutely roam all the grounds. They really do let you go almost anywhere and it is stunning. Walk down the Avenue of the Oaks, visit the stables, go to the docks and of course if you’re a total goof like me do a little impromptu photo shoot by the water with your selfie stick when nobody is looking of course.
casual 
Plan to spend time at the Gullah Theater. Here you will be told the story of the Gullah Geechee people who are descendants from slaves that were taken from Western Africa in the 1500s. You will not only be enlightened by how their culture of a nation within a nation truly came to be and withhold itself today, but I promise you, you will be entertained by the storytelling, songs, and traditions of the Gullah people. My favorite part was learning all the Gullah sayings. These little sayings that are spoken so quickly were a way for the Gullah Geechee to communicate without their masters not knowing what they were saying. This language and these sayings are still in use to this day. My personal favorites were, “workin’ from can’t see to can’t see”, which meant you were working before sun up and after sundown, “greasin’ yo mout”, which meant stuffing your face and the last “her hand is short of patience” meaning you were a bit of thief and to watch out for that one. Take a walk down Slave Street, a perfect row of brick houses that start with their Praise House. See the conditions in which the privileged slaves lived. In my opinion, you can skip the guided tour of the residence. The house that you see in The Notebook and in the movie North and South is not the original farmhouse. It’s not even the second house, the first being lost in a fire or the third for that matter when the second was lost in a tropical storm. This house was only built there in the early 1950s. I’m not positive but I think my childhood home is older than that, so nothing too exciting inside except for some antiques that were collected by the owners at that time and I think the Gullah Theater captures the history of the plantation much better. Before the temperatures got to that feels like 105, I took a stroll on down to historic Charleston and wandered their city market, Rainbow Row and all the little alleys surrounding the street that the Rainbow Row is on.
If you don’t tell Savannah, I would venture to say that these alleyways are some of the prettiest streets in the south. One funny thing that did happen in Charleston was that while I was out for dinner at night, the hotel would come in and provide turndown service. I’m guessing from their work, this hotel does not see a lot of female solo travelers. That’s ok, I put the robe and slippers to good use while I stayed up into the wee hours working on my last blog post.
My last stop on my love affair with the south would be Charlotte, North Carolina. My cousin Mary Kate moved down there quite some time ago and she was going to be my hostess with the mostest for some good old-fashioned family fun. Not only had I never been to Charlotte to see her, but I’d also never even met her children, so this was going to be one bonus of a stop along the journey. My cousin has definitely been following along in my journey and life and when I arrived there was a box of Duck Donuts, just waiting for me to dig into on her table. After a quick peek in the box to see which one I would be sinking my teeth into later, Mary Kate and I sat down to chat and picked up right where we’d left off. That night we took the kids to a restaurant that was loaded with games. I don’t want to mar the reputation of this place and call it an adult Chuck E. Cheese, but it did have Skee ball. In addition to Skee -ball there was an air hockey table that I would soon lose (ever so graciously by the way since we are in the south) to Mary Kate’s oldest. She is one fierce competitor!
The next day we took our playful skills to the pool where she and I perfected our handstands and if I’m not bragging received perfect 10’s from the judge. Grant it, the judge was my cousin and her mother but that is neither here nor there. That night, MK’s running friends were treating her for her birthday that had just passed and I got to tag along. It was fun getting to know her pals and get a glimpse into her life down here. While her friends headed home after dinner, she and I decided that it was silly to head home while the sun had yet to set.
Then… 
and Now
We walked over to a steak house that was in the same neighborhood as the restaurant we’d had dinner. We decided to have a drink at the bar and then see if we wanted to go to another place or go home. Upon opening their drink menu, MK mentioned to me, “Oh they have sparkling.” I’m not a huge drinker, but I do love a glass of bubbles now and again. I looked at what they had, looked again a little harder and then asked her if I was reading it right, “Dom Perignon for 15 dollars?”. I was not reading it wrong, so without hesitation, I jumped on that. However, when I got the bill and our drinks came to $81 dollars, that $15 dollar glass turned into a $45 dollar glass. Know this, no glass of anything is worth $45 dollars in my opinion. I don’t usually complain about a bill or even my food for that matter, but I felt like maybe there was a little miscommunication. Upon asking them to see the menu I pointed out the printed price of $15. Sure enough, they’d recently had their menus reprinted and whoever was in charge of printing AND proofing it apparently got it wrong. Their mistake was my gain, got the glass for $15 after all. We spent the rest of our night enjoying each other’s company and sometime later that night found ourselves at a dive bar karaoke joint. One of us even got on stage with a stranger for what I’m sure was one of the worst renditions of the Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow duet of Picture. There is video, I had some killer stage presence and while it doesn’t make up for my nails on a chalkboard vocals, I at the very least looked the part. Like with most of these little visits, they come to an end much too soon, but for MK and I the goodbye was more of a see you later. In a few weeks, we will be running the Falmouth Road Race together. Together is a very loose term. She’s a speed demon and I’m your 75 year old grandma on a good day.
While in the South, I not only decided I wanted to talk like them, I also decided I wanted to bring some of that southern charm home with me. I kept saying, I’m going to bring this back, I’m going to be so nice to everyone. I don’t even care if I’m called Ma’am like 70 times a day, the southern way has enraptured my soul. Even leaving Starbucks as they hand you your drink they truthfully and cheerfully say, “Let me know if you don’t love it, ma’am”. Here’s where I was a little torn…what if I didn’t love it? Is it the southern way to just drink it or tell them they messed up? Maybe I wasn’t quite made for this after all, but wanting to be a little nicer to people can’t hurt me too much now, can it?
I’ve landed in what I always call my happy place of Harbor Springs Michigan. I’m pretty sure it is the cause of this last blog post being so late. I get here and I seem to forget everything else that is outside of this bubble. I will be here for a few more days before heading to camp, so be prepared to see my love affair with the south abruptly end and take a back seat to my forever love up north. Hope this all finds you well and being kind to one another. XOXO, Caitlin