After my visit years back to Savannah everyone kept telling me “Oh, if you liked Savannah you have to go to Charleston, it’s so much better.” Finally got around to the visit. More about the circumstances later.
Coming from the relatively more recently settled upper Midwest, the former Northwest Territories, I love going to places that were the first settlements. So much history every which way. From the structures to the cemeteries, it is all old. But different from that really old stuff in Europe – here is the visible form of American history. It wasn’t my ancestors that walked here but the names we learned of the men who populated our history books (yes, they were only men except for Betsy Ross whose traditional sewing accomplishments warranted her inclusion). Dates noted go back to the late 1600’s unlike Michigan where the oldest structure is an 18th century fort. Settlers only began to stream in the Michigan area after the land was surveyed mostly in the 1830’s (some areas in the eastern area of the state were done earlier). It was very much a wilderness when my first ancestor came in 1892 for the lumbering jobs.
Charleston was crowded, spring break they said. It seemed more crowded due to the tight sidewalks where the average width is less than 6 feet. Walks are cracked, heaved, interspersed with dips for drives, then the grates for trees taking up have the walk. It is treacherous – can’t imagine navigating at night. And the morning after a busy night the detritus of the previous evening liter the sidewalk especially the north end of King St, a student area. Fortunately no bodies. The streets prove much easier but you have to walk around all the Mercedes, Porsches, Lexus; south end of town is clearly quite posh. Can’t imagine what it must be like high season.
Among my favorite places: the Unitarian Church and Cemetery, Fort Sumter. It is a very ornate church with wonderful Unitarian guides. Their cemetery is a marvel. So many descriptions mention is it overgrown, unkempt and the like. No, it is very much controlled abundance; the flora are planted additions, the walkways cleared. It is magical, in death united with nature. A close second is the oldest graveyard at the Circular Congregational Church. Wish I could have gone into the church. And of course I always love the National Parks with rangers who have a passion about their subject matter. So this Fort is where the Civil War battle actually started. Very interesting to see the detailed construction with ground shells used in the mortar. And the slave labor used is elaborated on.
Having toured many castles and cathedrals in Europe where they too often pressed laborers into service they got no mention of their contributions. Have to keep things in perspective: the rich always exploit the poor and powerless.
And just for fun took the Ghost Tours of the South. Oh the stories were a load of BS but the guide was very entertaining! And it was so lovely to see the city at nite, the church steeples lit and picturesque street lamps made for an enchanting setting. Had to stop for a snack so by the time we wanted to head home it was nearly 10 – figured trolleys stopped running and streets were wonderfully quiet. Just as we stood on Meeting St wondering what to do along came a Pedicab. What a wonderful end to a great day – we laughed all the ride to the hotel.
On to the wonders of Charleston! Restaurants were packed. Food was good and I guess what I consider high prices are pretty much the norm. Guess I need to get out there more. Many of the waitstaff we met were from elsewhere. Weather was comfortable but this place much be murder when things get warm; it is pretty much built in a delta, lots of low-lying areas and land filled in. I was surprised at the view from the airplane, lots of streams meandering around to reach the sea. The Old Exchange Building once used their basement area as a dungeon and for storage. Mold had to be a big problem, among other issues. I have to be careful what I store in my own basement in the much drier north!
Would perhaps like to return as there is more to see and experience. It was a 4 day stay but significantly shorted by one day to get there and one day back. The city offers a free trolly system to more easily get around downtown. An interesting aspect is this is a preferred method of transport for local poor people – it’s free, the bus isn’t. So there is this strange mix of black street people and white affluent tourists using the trolley.
Accommodations were at Hilton Homewood Suites Historic District. It actually was quite a distance from the Historic District, but there was the free trolley to get around. And I got a cut rate at the hotel, normally upwards of $234/night, to sell their timeshares. Yes, while eating at the airport Hilton adjacent to Logan Airport, Boston, I had a weak moment and signed up. Had difficulty even finding a location I wanted to visit; no, I’m not interested in Hilton in Hawaii and none of the other big city locations offered. I felt sorry for Greg the old guy trying to find people to sign up; joke could be on me, he probably makes his quota. $340 for 4 days and 3 nights! (I invited a friend to join me and she paid half so I got this even cheaper.)
So now comes the moment of truth, a 11:15 appointment at the new Hilton Liberty Place for the sales push. Our ‘host’ was Tim Caviezel who spent his time getting to know more about us to better determine what we would like. Later we wondered if he thought we were lesbians. Clearly Greg back in Boston doesn’t care about vetting people, just get them to sign up, as from our discussion where I told him I never stay at Hilton’s , I enjoyed National Parks, was single etc. I was not a good candidate. So had to go through the same with Tim after he tried to impress us a couple times with his having played basketball. Neither of us reacted in any way to that; we may have hurt his feelings. I should point out my friend was born in South America, has an accent and is very talkative. Clearly Tim liked her better. Tim also shared that his brother is Jim Caviezel who played Jesue in the Mel Gibson movie about Christ and stated that made him Jesus’ brother. Well my friend and I proceeded to latch onto this for the rest of our stay. For starters she pointed out Jesus didn’t have siblings, and I wondered if his mother was Mary. Oh yes, we were on a roll.
Tim scarcely spoke or made eye contact with me. I should have taken out my phone and scanned the internet. His probing questions got a bit intrusive especially when he asked if my parents were alive (checking on inheritances?) and then when they died! I didn’t answer that and should have taken more offense. I asked whether he had a time share – he did! But with Marriott for whom he previously worked. He really should have lied.
We got a tour of suites available here, very high end. I took a shower gel from the bathroom; didn’t have one at our hotel. He claimed he was a stand up comedian performing in the member bar on site; surprised us as he had no sense of humor. In the hall he pretended to get on the phone and tell someone “Yes she’s here, has the backpack. I’ll bring her downstairs.” To which I replied, “FBI? Good I already have a file there.”
Let’s get down to facts, which Tim rushed through surely as he knew we were a waste of his time. $95,000 purchase price, with $14,000 down payment. Oh he tried to do magic with the numbers compared to what 20 years of vacations would cost; his calculations didn’t make sense. I tried to counter his calculations with my own but he ignored them. He was losing patience. then abruptly got up and told us we were getting the bus to Savannah where we would find something more to our taste, then shuffled us out. But not without me getting my $100 Visa gift card!
We figured he thought I was lying to him when I answers his queries about where I liked to vacation, etc. I was actually telling him the truth – camping, National Parks, Road Scholar tours. Anyway we figured he was pretty much lying to us, but he really is Jim Caviezel’s brother; Jim is a Quanon adherent, so you won’t see him acting much anymore.
And my Taxi to the airport was a Russian driver, Sergey. I asked him only to verify the accent. No reason to give him any grief about the Ukrainian War. Sadly Charleston, as often is the case, has no good trasnport from the airport to the city. I caught a $15 shuttle into town, but you can’t get the shuttle to take you back. Cab was $45. Uber about the same if you can’t figure out the AP.
But Savannah was much easier to walk around, more parks.
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