This year’s annual Christmas vacation was almost spent at home. The boys were busy with sports and Fortnite. I was content spending quality time at home with B.A.E. (books and edibles). But my always adventurous wife, Amber, suggested we go south if the weather was nice. Savannah, Georgia seemed ideal: the forecast read sunny and mid-60s, we hadn’t been, and Airbnbs were still available a few days before we left
The 10-hour drive to Savannah was relatively easy, thanks to an overnight stop in Charlotte, North Carolina. The only hiccup was multiple accidents on I-77, which forced us to take Route 321 through rural South Carolina.
Man…small town poverty in the Deep South is something else. Rural South Carolina towns off 321, oddly named after Scandinavian countries (Denmark, Sweden, and Norway), were in ruins. Outside of a Chinese restaurant or liquor store here and there, there was little sign of life.
Anyhow, poverty pics are not my thing. So here are a couple pictures of nicer things we saw: a colorful Mustang whose wheels may or may not be able to turn and a Piggly Wiggly offering a soul food special.
Tacos don’t come to mind when you think of Savannah, but Tacos +Tequila was our first stop after checking in to our Airbnb. No worries about authenticity. Brown folks made ’em and the tacos were similar to what I’ve had in Baja California.
From there, we walked around the historic district. Our two youngest kids weaved through crowds, pausing only when I told them to “stop acting like crackheads!” Of course they continued until the cold got the best of them. (It was in the mid-30s at night.)
Not before we took a stroll down River Street. The views were cool and we found hidden tunnels where you could hang out with ghosts.