Georgian Coast

Sunrise over the Atlantic ocean is a lovely sight. Unfortunately, my room was facing the west and I missed it. But with daylight showing I had to head out again. I needed to start my way back to Missouri to renew my truck registration. I packed up, started my engine and headed North. Yes, I know, Missouri is to the west, but Georgia is to the North and I was on a Seacoast. I might run across another wonderful seafood place like Singleton's. I was a seafood junkie rationalizing like a gambler who has just hit it big. I was on a roll... another big hit was right around the corner. North. North along the coastline. Another fishing village. Another fish shack. Then I would be set for good. Then I could go to Missouri, register my truck and head North into... well... that direction, North. Not to any place in particular but away from Missouri; to the future; the next thing, what/wherever it might be. But for now the plan was to stick to the coast and to stay where the fish might be.

If you are going to drive along the coast of Georgia, you will have to cross some bridges. Georgia has some beautiful suspension bridges on it's coastline--if you're into that kind of thing. I like bridges and I think it is worthwhile to drive a little bit out of your way to drive over a lovely bridge. OK, that sounds weird. Nevertheless, give it a try. Drive across a bridge and NOTICE it as you cross. Notice it's features and look for the thing that make it unique from all of the other bridges you have seen. Before you know it you might find yourself driving a bit out of your way to cross a lovely bridge. Bridges are just one more wonderful thing to enjoy in life.

It is interesting driving up the Georgian Atlantic coast. There are no beaches. It is all marsh. It's also very flat. I guess that is one of the prerequisites of marshes: flatness. There are no marshes in the Rockies. Or the Sierras for that matter. The Georgian marshes are filled with reeds and marsh-grasses. You can almost sense the billions of oysters and shrimp that are spawning out there. Sex everywhere. Egad. As you drive North, you will run through a few quaint towns and pass by some old wrecked houses… all of those things that make random drives so much fun.

I made it all the way up to Savannah, Georgia. I figured it might be fun to have lunch there and see what it is all about. Savannah has some lovely boulevards, lined and enclosed by oak trees bearded by Spanish Moss. The town is also graced by some wonderful piles of bricks. Truly wonderful specimens. In the historic district, the layout of the streets on either side of the main drag is most unfriendly to auto traffic which makes it even better! A walking town with a public square every two blocks. What a wonderful area to live, beautiful old buildings, a slow pace, a comfortable human layout to the streets. The Art and Design Institute had two or three buildings scattered around the area. There were three nice old movie theaters with a film festival about to begin. What could be more perfect?

Then I saw them. Tourists. That dreaded, necessary evil of so much of the world. Parading around in their vacation dress that proclaims "I am vacationing, therefore I care not how I appear to the rest of the world. I will shock their good sense with my attire and attitude." Is it possible to be comfortable and still be nicely attired? It is a good thing that the tourists cluster together in certain, predictable areas. Streets that are lined with doo-dad stores and sugar shops. Shops designed to strip the dollars from the tourists, leaving them with one more thing to take home and put into storage.

Tourists are good. They bring revenue to a city. They are a free-spending market (Rachael Ray excepted) that allows many community entrepreneurs to get a start. Tourists make it possible for a town to support more good restaurants (bad ones as well). All in all Tourists are not so bad, it would be nicer if they could present themselves more attractively when they are away from home but you have to take the bad with the good.

I decided to pass on the idea of lunch in Savannah. I drove North out of town and crossed their lovely suspension bridge. Zoom zoom, before I knew it I was in South Carolina. Almost immediately it seemed the landscape changed. It looked as though it had rained minutes before and the aftermath was a dense fog. It was almost as dense as the fogs of San Francisco except the droplets that made up the fog were huge... and it was hot. It was an 80 degree fog, almost skin temperature. This set the pace for the rest of the day's drive. A million percent humidity at skin temperature. This was strange. Not quite uncomfortable, not quite comfortable, only wet. Later in the evening, it cooled to 75 or so and it felt cold! The air was below skin temperature and the humidity made it stick, it actually was chilling. I saw several people wearing sweaters, they were locals.

Later in the evening turned out to be Beaufort, South Carolina. It is pronounced "byewfert." There is a Beaufort, North Carolina that is pronounced "bo-fort." I suppose there are other differences between the towns. Beaufort, SC. Is a lovely town filled with big, beautiful houses. If you stay at the Red Carpet Inn, check to make sure there is hot water in the shower. There might be hot water in the sink, but check the shower. Yikes, what a shock.