Sunny skies through the courtyard canopy, soft jazz, quiet chatter from other guests--another breakfast at The Marshall House in Savannah.
A brief physical inventory lets me know that all my assorted parts feel pretty good. My skin has gotten smoother in the soft subtropical air. My legs and knees feel back to their normal level of discontent after yesterday's quarter marathon (6.53 miles). My feet, however, are sore.
Yesterday we ambled around Savannah. Strolling would imply both too much speed and too much purpose.
We ambled the length of River Street. As we moseyed along we stopped in two candy shops to do a praline tasting. One was too sweet and the other was really really too sweet. Goldilocks was not with us; neither was "just right". We looked at, but did not buy souvenirs. Eventually we ambled to the ferry landing and rode a full circuit. The ferries are free in Savannah. The boat was a lovely restored wooden craft with bead board walls painted white, dark wood accents, polished brass lamps and a very noisy engine. Her name is The Juliet Gordon Low. As a former Girl Scout, I liked that. After the ferry ride, we headed up the stone streets to Bay Street and beyond.
Our stops included lunch at Goose Feathers: an enormous croissant with chicken, mushrooms and cheese. Tasty, but so large Kelly and I could have shared one, rather than buying one for each of us.
The Salt Store was almost next door, so we wandered in and tasted flavored salts and sugars. I found and bought some ras el hanout--Moroccan food will be on the menu when I'm home.
We stopped by the Kobo Gallery and several other small art galleries. I think Kobo was my favorite. Loved the jewelry and the show of photo transfer images on old embossed metal ceiling tiles.
We stopped at another spice shop where I bought vinegar powder and rosebuds. You have to grab these odd items from the back-of-the-brain shopping list when you finally find them. Said the owner, "I surely hope you don't plan to use them together."
We dropped our purchases off at the hotel and strolled (no purpose, but a bit more speed) through the residential areas.
Savannah has interesting aromas. In the areas where the carriages operate, it smells of horses. Although, some might find it offensive, I've never minded the smell of horse; it reminds me of summer camp. In the residential areas there is an elusive fragrance. It isn't quite pine, or not pine alone. Pine with a hint of lime with a smidge of wintergreen or rootbeer? I can't identify it exactly. And, it is very faint, but when I smell it I absolutely adore it.
Last night Kelly and I couldn't decide where to go for dinner. It had to be close since we had walked all of our walking parts to the point of agony. The Marshall House desk staff gave us lots of ideas, and printed up menus for us, while pleasantly "ladying" us. The staff there is very nice. Dinner ended up being a salad from Panera and a double Jim Beam to go from the hotel bar. We ate in our room. Bed felt so good.
I was awake at 5:30 this morning. I'm still in the courtyard, drinking coffee, listening to jazz.
After breakfast we are headed to Beaufort then on to Charleston. I've never been to either place so I'm happy to be headed there. My feet are ecstatic. They get a rest today.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
November 7, 2011 - Driving Around Savannah
Today is our last day in Savannah. I'm sitting in the covered courtyard of The Marshall House B&B Hotel drinking coffee and waiting for Kelly to shower and join me for breakfast. Jazz plays softly; local art hangs on the walls. I am writing in my journal. Business travelers read newspapers or review reports. The food on the buffet smells wonderful.
Yesterday, Sunday, was a driving and walking day. The temperatures had warmed and the wind had calmed from the evening before. We headed out on foot in search of breakfast, ending at Gallery Expresso. Funky storefront with old sofas and chairs, mismatched tables and chairs--"early Salvation Army provincial" my father would have dubbed it. There was a line to get to the counter to order fresh baked goods and wonderful coffee from tattooed art students with aqua hair. Yes, they told me, they did their own baking, even the croissants. I took my blueberry scone with loads of blueberries back to a table. Kelly got the cinnamon roll. The scone was excellent. The cinnamon roll was amazing. It was light and yeasty, one of the best I ever tasted. We nibbled and sipped and watched a group of regulars rearrange all the sofas and chairs into a circle to settle in for a long chat.
We ambled back to The Mulberry Inn to check out. The Marshall House had not had a room for us for our first night in Savannah. The city's marathon was that day. Apparently it was a success, at least in terms of hotel rooms booked.
With no directions and only my 45-year-old memories of the area to guide us, we set out to find Hunter Army Air Base. We also needed to find a Verizon store for Kelly. At some point it hit us: Verizon Store. Yes, we have mobile phones that may be smarter than the two of us. Indeed the mapping functions on our phones got us to both places.
Savannah around the Air Base has changed a lot in the past 45 years. It's built up with many malls and more housing developments. Years ago, I lived in the area, exchanging my services as daytime babysitter for room and board until I found a real job and a place to live. My two little charges and I walked that area a lot to escape the war zone at the house. When the tables were placed on their sides to act as barricades and the crockery started flying, the girls and I would take a long walk.
However, there was no flying Melamine in Savannah yesterday. Sunday is a quiet day here; a lot of stores are closed. But, we traveled around looking at the houses and enjoying the shade of the trees in the squares, eventually ending at the Firefly Cafe for brunch at 2:00. We ate at a table on the sidewalk under an umbrella. At the table beside us was a fussy dog and an even fussier young woman. Nothing suited her. Kelly and I chose to be amused rather than annoyed although it could have gone either way. The Eggs Benedict with Creamed Spinach was so delicious, I remained remarkably tolerant of it all.
After brunch, we checked into the extremely charming Marshall House, a Savannah fixture since 1851.
Kelly and I are both Pittsburgh Steelers fans. Most cities have a Stiller's bar and a lot of former Pittsburghers around to tell you where it is. On advice from the bartender at The Shrimp Factory, we went to Isaac's on Drayton last night to watch the Steelers play the Baltimore Ravens. We were hoping for a little rah-rah action. But, fan-wise, it was just Kelly and me and a woman from Penn Hills, who looked like a woman from Penn Hills: Steelers jacket, lots of blonde hair, yinzer accent. Between the three of us, we couldn't get too much rah-ing going. Kelly and I left after the first quarter to come back to our very comfortable beds. I read a bit and was asleep by 10:30.
This morning we learned the Steelers had lost to the Ravens 23-20. Damn! Anyone but the Ravens ...
Kelly has arrived. My plate is filled with quiche, fresh fruit and freshly baked biscuits. Time to discuss what to do on our last day in Savannah. Eating and drinking is a given, but what else shall we do and where do we want to eat and drink? Kelly stopped outside on her way to breakfast and reports the skies are blue and the temperature is pleasant. Today, we will leave the car in the garage and walk or take public transportation.
Yesterday, Sunday, was a driving and walking day. The temperatures had warmed and the wind had calmed from the evening before. We headed out on foot in search of breakfast, ending at Gallery Expresso. Funky storefront with old sofas and chairs, mismatched tables and chairs--"early Salvation Army provincial" my father would have dubbed it. There was a line to get to the counter to order fresh baked goods and wonderful coffee from tattooed art students with aqua hair. Yes, they told me, they did their own baking, even the croissants. I took my blueberry scone with loads of blueberries back to a table. Kelly got the cinnamon roll. The scone was excellent. The cinnamon roll was amazing. It was light and yeasty, one of the best I ever tasted. We nibbled and sipped and watched a group of regulars rearrange all the sofas and chairs into a circle to settle in for a long chat.
We ambled back to The Mulberry Inn to check out. The Marshall House had not had a room for us for our first night in Savannah. The city's marathon was that day. Apparently it was a success, at least in terms of hotel rooms booked.
With no directions and only my 45-year-old memories of the area to guide us, we set out to find Hunter Army Air Base. We also needed to find a Verizon store for Kelly. At some point it hit us: Verizon Store. Yes, we have mobile phones that may be smarter than the two of us. Indeed the mapping functions on our phones got us to both places.
Savannah around the Air Base has changed a lot in the past 45 years. It's built up with many malls and more housing developments. Years ago, I lived in the area, exchanging my services as daytime babysitter for room and board until I found a real job and a place to live. My two little charges and I walked that area a lot to escape the war zone at the house. When the tables were placed on their sides to act as barricades and the crockery started flying, the girls and I would take a long walk.
However, there was no flying Melamine in Savannah yesterday. Sunday is a quiet day here; a lot of stores are closed. But, we traveled around looking at the houses and enjoying the shade of the trees in the squares, eventually ending at the Firefly Cafe for brunch at 2:00. We ate at a table on the sidewalk under an umbrella. At the table beside us was a fussy dog and an even fussier young woman. Nothing suited her. Kelly and I chose to be amused rather than annoyed although it could have gone either way. The Eggs Benedict with Creamed Spinach was so delicious, I remained remarkably tolerant of it all.
After brunch, we checked into the extremely charming Marshall House, a Savannah fixture since 1851.
Kelly and I are both Pittsburgh Steelers fans. Most cities have a Stiller's bar and a lot of former Pittsburghers around to tell you where it is. On advice from the bartender at The Shrimp Factory, we went to Isaac's on Drayton last night to watch the Steelers play the Baltimore Ravens. We were hoping for a little rah-rah action. But, fan-wise, it was just Kelly and me and a woman from Penn Hills, who looked like a woman from Penn Hills: Steelers jacket, lots of blonde hair, yinzer accent. Between the three of us, we couldn't get too much rah-ing going. Kelly and I left after the first quarter to come back to our very comfortable beds. I read a bit and was asleep by 10:30.
This morning we learned the Steelers had lost to the Ravens 23-20. Damn! Anyone but the Ravens ...
Kelly has arrived. My plate is filled with quiche, fresh fruit and freshly baked biscuits. Time to discuss what to do on our last day in Savannah. Eating and drinking is a given, but what else shall we do and where do we want to eat and drink? Kelly stopped outside on her way to breakfast and reports the skies are blue and the temperature is pleasant. Today, we will leave the car in the garage and walk or take public transportation.
Monday, March 19, 2012
November 6, 2011 -- Savannah
Last night, November 5, was the "fall back" to Standard Time. Although the clock proclaims that it is 6:15 am, my body says it is 7:15, so I am up. Kelly is still dozing so I am writing by flashlight, sitting in a chair, juggling pen and paper.
Yesterday was sunny but very windy. We drove to Savannah from Fayetteville, NC, leaving at 9:30, arriving around 3:30. En route we stopped near Santee, SC to drive through Santee State Park to the shore of Lake Marion. It was a pretty drive of several miles through green pines, but also through deciduous trees that are still leaved in green. Others were just starting to turn to bright gold and orange. Back in Pennsylvania, the trees are brown or bare. We drove to the lake, took a couple photos of driftwood and choppy water, and hopped back into the car to get out of a fierce wind.
Lunch was a "Little Joe" platter at Maurice's Piggy Park. The smoky pulled pork on a bun came with French fries, coleslaw and a couple hush puppies. The hush puppies were tasty--cornmeal and onion--a good thing since I burped themd the rest of the day. They were indigestion in a plastic basket.
A ways down US95 from Santee, we saw a billboard advertising a Sabatier knife outlet. Since we needed to fuel up the car anyway, we stopped there. A small shop filled with wonderful knives. We each bought some new knives. I have a well-stocked knife block at home, but my husband and I always seem to be reaching for the chef's knife at the same time. So, purchasing another chef's knife (his and hers?) didn't seem overly self-indulgent.
We cruised into Savannah on State Route 17, an absolute washboard of a road. But it was nice that the Google directions were correct for a change. We had had a few problems in Fayetteville the evening before. We ended up traveling several miles down the road, then discovering the hotel across from the highway exit ramp.
The hotel here in Savannah is lovely with fireplaces in the lobby and wide planked pine floors. "Tea is from four to six." Tea was enjoyed by the fire with piano accompaniment.
We strolled the Savannah Historic District last evening. By all rights, it should really be labelled the Savannah Bar and Restaurant District, with an emphasis on "bar". I would still respect it in the morning.
I've been trying to remember where I sang when I was a travelling folk musician in 1966. I'm not sure, but we rambled from one end of River Street to the other looking for it. My best guess is the River City Inn. I had forgotten how steep the hill is to get from River Street to Bay Street. Also forgotten was how treacherous the ballast stone paving can be for those of us who aren't always steady on our feet. Tiny steps, eyes on the ground.
Coming under the walkway of one of the hotels (The Sheraton, I think) we heard male voices harmonizing. It sounded like an entire gospel choir. But it was just two men amplified by the acoustics of the walkway. They were singing old hymns and ignoring all the sinners and sinner wannabes strolling by.
We stopped for a drink at the Shrimp Factory. "What should we get?" asked Kelly. "One of everything." replied the bartender. We ordered a sweet tea with vodka and peach schnapps. "Do you want that for here or to go?" We got it to go but stayed to have an appetizer of shrimp remoulade over garlic butter pasta.
Back out on River Street, a head poked out the door of a bar and shouted to someone down the street, "You get back in this bar. Your drink's all gone!" Chilly as it was, people were everywhere outside. They stolled along in groups with their "go" cups in hand. "May I have a chardonnay to go, please?"
We walked a long ways--past the Paula Deen Shop and the Lady and Sons; past the theater where the Savannah Film Festival was advertising its final night with old-fashioned spotlights streaking the sky; through the City Market, jammed with people listening to a local blues band or waiting in line for pizza at Vinnie Van Gogo's; ending up at Belford's Restaurant for Jim Beam, calamari and a shared Caesar salad.
Then the long walk back to the hotel. The "dogs were barking" and my legs were sore after our five and a half mile stroll around the city. We decided that the next day we would sightsee in the car for part of the day.
We were in bed, two very tired ladies (as we are addressed here). "I'm sorry, ladies, I don't have have a table for you, but you ladies could have a seat at the bar." "What can I get for you ladies?" "Would you ladies like help with your luggage?"
Yesterday was sunny but very windy. We drove to Savannah from Fayetteville, NC, leaving at 9:30, arriving around 3:30. En route we stopped near Santee, SC to drive through Santee State Park to the shore of Lake Marion. It was a pretty drive of several miles through green pines, but also through deciduous trees that are still leaved in green. Others were just starting to turn to bright gold and orange. Back in Pennsylvania, the trees are brown or bare. We drove to the lake, took a couple photos of driftwood and choppy water, and hopped back into the car to get out of a fierce wind.
Lunch was a "Little Joe" platter at Maurice's Piggy Park. The smoky pulled pork on a bun came with French fries, coleslaw and a couple hush puppies. The hush puppies were tasty--cornmeal and onion--a good thing since I burped themd the rest of the day. They were indigestion in a plastic basket.
A ways down US95 from Santee, we saw a billboard advertising a Sabatier knife outlet. Since we needed to fuel up the car anyway, we stopped there. A small shop filled with wonderful knives. We each bought some new knives. I have a well-stocked knife block at home, but my husband and I always seem to be reaching for the chef's knife at the same time. So, purchasing another chef's knife (his and hers?) didn't seem overly self-indulgent.
We cruised into Savannah on State Route 17, an absolute washboard of a road. But it was nice that the Google directions were correct for a change. We had had a few problems in Fayetteville the evening before. We ended up traveling several miles down the road, then discovering the hotel across from the highway exit ramp.
The hotel here in Savannah is lovely with fireplaces in the lobby and wide planked pine floors. "Tea is from four to six." Tea was enjoyed by the fire with piano accompaniment.
We strolled the Savannah Historic District last evening. By all rights, it should really be labelled the Savannah Bar and Restaurant District, with an emphasis on "bar". I would still respect it in the morning.
I've been trying to remember where I sang when I was a travelling folk musician in 1966. I'm not sure, but we rambled from one end of River Street to the other looking for it. My best guess is the River City Inn. I had forgotten how steep the hill is to get from River Street to Bay Street. Also forgotten was how treacherous the ballast stone paving can be for those of us who aren't always steady on our feet. Tiny steps, eyes on the ground.
Coming under the walkway of one of the hotels (The Sheraton, I think) we heard male voices harmonizing. It sounded like an entire gospel choir. But it was just two men amplified by the acoustics of the walkway. They were singing old hymns and ignoring all the sinners and sinner wannabes strolling by.
We stopped for a drink at the Shrimp Factory. "What should we get?" asked Kelly. "One of everything." replied the bartender. We ordered a sweet tea with vodka and peach schnapps. "Do you want that for here or to go?" We got it to go but stayed to have an appetizer of shrimp remoulade over garlic butter pasta.
Back out on River Street, a head poked out the door of a bar and shouted to someone down the street, "You get back in this bar. Your drink's all gone!" Chilly as it was, people were everywhere outside. They stolled along in groups with their "go" cups in hand. "May I have a chardonnay to go, please?"
We walked a long ways--past the Paula Deen Shop and the Lady and Sons; past the theater where the Savannah Film Festival was advertising its final night with old-fashioned spotlights streaking the sky; through the City Market, jammed with people listening to a local blues band or waiting in line for pizza at Vinnie Van Gogo's; ending up at Belford's Restaurant for Jim Beam, calamari and a shared Caesar salad.
Then the long walk back to the hotel. The "dogs were barking" and my legs were sore after our five and a half mile stroll around the city. We decided that the next day we would sightsee in the car for part of the day.
We were in bed, two very tired ladies (as we are addressed here). "I'm sorry, ladies, I don't have have a table for you, but you ladies could have a seat at the bar." "What can I get for you ladies?" "Would you ladies like help with your luggage?"
November 5, 2011 - Starting Out
Yesterday, November 4, 2011, was a long day of driving. Kelly did the second half-- six hours from DC to Fayetteville, NC. She had the DC Friday rush start, then the Richmond Friday rush to deal with. But, six hours wasn't bad, since that also included a sit-down meal at McD's in Fredericksburg.
Earlier I had driven from Pittsburgh to DC. This was an easy trip until the George Washington Parkway was blocked at the Roosevelt Bridge forcing me onto 50 West instead of 395 South. I was lost. But, a quick call and Kelly talked me in to her house so we could load up and head out.
Last night we had dinner at Ruby Tuesdays. Pasta and whiskey for me. Dinner ended with a toast to Mike, my son and Kelly's brother, who died in 2009. Yesterday was his birthday. We had many saudades (a Brazilian word meaning feelings of great sentiment, nothing in English fits this feeling so well). The heartfelt toast was in water since we had already finished our drinks. But, heartfelt it was.
Then, bedtime at the Quality Inn. It was a good night's sleep; I didn't get up until 7:00.
We are headed for Savannah today.
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