Summer Lovin’: Southern Comfort
Waves of Grain is a guest “cupcake” who is trying her luck at travel writing, while exploring her new summer digs in the Sunshine State. She is a self-proclaimed science nerd who is working on a PhD in marine science, while simultaneously trying to figure out clever ways to travel the world for free and enjoy delicious beers along the way.
When I found out that I would be spending the summer in Florida for ‘work’ the first thing that popped into my head was, “ROAD TRIP!!!” Visions of bayous with cypress trees, Spanish moss hanging delicately off tree branches, and sweet iced tea danced through my head. Fueled mostly by my lack of southern exposure and watching True Blood one too many times, I pictured the South to have that Old World sort of charm that is lacking in much of the Northeast (not that we don’t have our own charms, its just more of an in-your-face, ‘Hey! I’m walkin’ here,’ sort of charm). I have been told that I overly romanticize things, which explains why I thought that a road trip from New York via I-95 was going to be like leaving Sex and the City and walking onto the set of Gone with the Wind, complete with ladies holding fancy parasols, fried green tomatoes and cute southern accents at every corner. Although it wasn’t quite that dramatic, I also wasn’t entirely wrong.
Looking up at a tree covered in Spanish moss.
As soon as I crossed the Mason-Dixon line, heading south on I-95, there was a noticeable difference in the general attitude and friendliness. As I left D.C. behind and headed into Virginia, and then North and South Carolina, the drivers became more polite and less aggressive, the gas station attendants more attentive, and even the roadside restaurant waitresses didn’t seem as annoyed by the mere presence of customers.
The cynic in me said it was all an act, but the romantic in me hoped that this was how all southern people were — accommodating, sweet, and earnestly good, even if they did do things a little slower than the pace I have become accustomed to. I was so impressed with the general southern hospitality that I would’ve stayed right where I was along the I-95 corridor, but I knew that things would just get better the further south I drove, and I couldn’t wait to get to Georgia. I decided that stopping in Savannah, GA was a priority, because I had heard from a few reliable sources that if wrought-iron laced balconies, and sweet southern comfort were on my must-see list, Savannah was the place to go.
And disappointed I was not.
Savannah is a gem that defines my ideal southern experience; as a quaint city-town nestled on the edge of a river, Savannah holds onto its colonial history (it was founded in 1733) while still maintaining an air of modernity and youthfulness.
View of Savannah from my hotel room, downtown historical buildings and modern bridge.
It didn’t take me long to decide that staying one night just wouldn’t do, so I extended my trip and remained in Savannah for 2 days soaking up the history, the sun and the inevitable cuteness. After some helpful advice from a bartender at Churchill’s, a British-owned restaurant/pub that served the most delicious black bean burger I’ve ever had, I decided that the next day’s itinerary would have to include wandering along the Riverwalk, checking out Forsythe Park (Savannah’s version of Central Park), and City Market — a pedestrian-only section that has sidewalk restaurants, trendy little shops, antique stores, pretty much anything you could possibly want all wrapped up neatly in a 3-block radius.
Old wagon cart full of flowers in the middle of City Market.
Along the Riverwalk, the shops and people watching were amazing, and while walking the 20 or so blocks through the tree-lined streets to get to Forsythe Park, I stumbled upon the Colonial Cemetery. This cemetery has graves in it that are older than our country, since most of them date back to Colonial times. It has this weird feel about it made only more eerie by the dead grass and trees that are heavily draped in Spanish moss, almost like they are paying homage to the dead. I guess it’s this old, creepy history that earns Savannah the self-proclaimed title of Most Haunted City in America. There are all sorts of old pubs, restaurants, and theaters that claim to be haunted by Revolutionary war veterans, their disgruntled widows, and the tormented souls of slaves. They even offer nightly walking tours and pub-crawls where you can experience the haunts of ghouls throughout the city. The juxtaposition of Colonial cemeteries and buildings built over 200 years ago with the modern City Market inhabited by trendy art school students (Savannah College of Art and Design is situated in the heart of downtown) makes it feel like a colonial version of Greenwich Village, but in a cuter, more appealing, more Southern way.
Graves in the Colonial Cemetery.
After a long day of wine-tasting at a local vineyard’s storefront in City Market, haggling with the street peddlers for my very own palmetto leaf artfully shaped into a rose, checking out the Tall Ship museum, where miniature replicas of famous ships are displayed along with each of their quirky stories, I decided it was time for a beer. As I looked out over the river and watched the sunset, I ordered my new favorite beer, Sweetwater 420, at the rooftop bar of the Bohemian Hotel. When the waitress came over and noted my not-so-southern accent, she said, “Where y’all from?” to which my instant response of New York drew a surprised look. “Neeww Yorrk Citay?” she said in a very Pace-Picante commercial sort of way. “Well y’all enjoy your time in Savannah, ya hear?”
I certainly had enjoyed Savannah, however I couldn’t stay in my storybook (read: cliché) southern city forever. Florida was calling my name! And as I pulled back onto I-95 headed to the land of snow-birds and palm trees, I was abruptly cut off by a black BMW with New York license plates.
Of course.
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Southern Comfort is part of our Summer Series.
