Friday was fast, I worked half a day and ran home to pack and escape with all speed, trying to avoid the Friday Atlanta rush hour (which I forgot lasts from 7 am to 8 pm on most roads). We were packed and out the door by 2, Millie the pirate dog in tow, ready for a nice weekend with the fam. It took us an hour to get outside Atlanta metro, but once out we averaged about 88 miles an hour straight through. Once in Mt. Pleasant we stopped off at the cigar store by Whit’s dad’s house to acquire the requisite smokables and offerings to the father in law. Many good sticks were purchased.
Then it was on to the homestead to pick up Whit’s father and make for the Isle of Palms with all speed. We met some friends who have recently moved to James Island (lucky buggers) and found a cozy, if not overly touristed eatery called the Banana Cabana. The name was hokey, the atmosphere was part grungy townie, part flabby tourist, but the Yuengling was cold on tap and the food was delicious. For my part I had a fried oyster po’ boy and fries, and of course a couple of ice cold Yuenglings to help wash it down. We sacked out a bit early for our age, but the long day on the road had taken its toll.
Saturday we woke early and showered, then took Millie the pirate dog out to the canal for a morning swim. In the past she would be in the water before we could catch her to put her life jacket on her, but this time she’s got much shorter hair, and the sun wasn’t yet scorching the land, so she was hesitant to jump until she saw a leaf float by. Something in her wily dog brain cannot allow any leaf to float in water unmolested, she’s obliged to dive in and snap it up like a furry little shark. After a few dives and retrievals we dried her off and went inside to greet the parents.
We all agreed that an early lunch would be better than a late breakfast so we headed forthwith to our first destination of the morning, Charlestown Landing. For those who aren’t familiar with the area, Charleston is in fact the second such settlement of that name (minus the American slanging of the word Charlestown). The first is now inside a national park and protected from development. This is probably for the best since they still haven’t found it all. The site is still an active archeological dig, which I find fascinating. Too bad I don’t have an archeology degree and time to waste. The weather was beautiful so we spend just under 2 hours roaming the grounds, looking at the recreated battlements and buildings. There’s even a model of the first ship that brought the first Charles-townies to the area. Built in the early 1970’s it’s now in dry dock, spending its last few months and years rotting away in the weather. They’re building a new model, however, right beside the old one and should be done by year’s end. They’re sticking with the traditional building methods as much as possible, which is great (especially for purists like meself).
After we left the landing we headed for Folly beach, hoping to cash in on some tasty crab legs and surf shop browsing. It became apparent very quickly though that the floodgates had been opened and every yokel from Wilmington to Jacksonville was lined up past the bridge, feet hanging out the window, Dale Earnhardt tank tops billowing in the breeze, creating a 3+ mile traffic jam. We quickly hove to and headed for downtown Charleston, landing at the King Street Grill. I continued my po’boying activities with a shrimp sandwich and waffle fries. Again, good crustacean and cold beer. I was two for two. We walked about after lunch, visiting some old haunts, Half Moon Outfitters, Margaritaville, and the like. We skipped back home to pick up Millie and take her to the beach for some further swimming activates. She wasn’t quite as gung ho as she is with still water, but I think she enjoyed the surf a bit. The sun was heading off west and the wind was cooling so we short shifted our beaching activities in favor of dinner. Our destination for the evening feeding was a small place on the edge of Shem Creek (way back in the middle of nowhere) called The Wreck. We waited a little less than an hour, sitting on the dock, watching the sky go from blue to pink to purple and finally starry black. The sand gnats were already out and feasting, so we slathered all of our exposed skin with the fisherman’s magical liquid of life, otherwise known as Avon Skin So Soft. With the no-see-ums in check we had a lively time just people watching and enjoying the evening by the sea. Dinner came in the form of she crab soup and a combo platter of crustaceans; multiple, fried and domestic. Great shrimp, big plump oysters and sweet scallops lulled me into the friendliest of food comas and set the stage for the rest of the evening spent on the back porch back at the house, enjoying a nice Fuente Fuente Opus X.
Sunday morning we were up and dressed and off to Easter Service at the in-law’s church called Seacoast Church (a non denominational). It was much fun and even had a bit of unexpected excitement. We were sitting in the middle about four rows back, about 20 feet from the stage when over to stage left we saw a commotion. It looked like someone was falling down, and at a closer glance reaching down and I heard a noise that sounded like electricity popping, so I figured a chord had grounded out and was popping and the usher was disconnecting it. How wrong I was. A snake had gotten into the room and was trucking along in front of the lilies that lined the stage. The usher had seen it and quickly grabbed it and removed it. People gasped and oohed and ahhhed and even laughed. The preacher, a good natured and quick witted man, quickly began laughing and shook his head saying “Well, we don’t usually handle those in this church, but at least our ushers are well trained”. This fit the mood perfectly and everyone laughed and refocused on the service. All in all it was wonderful and cheery. After church we again headed downtown to an Easter Brunch at the Magnolia, a fantastic restaurant specializing in Southern Cuisine. Lunch consisted of some of the best blue crab bisque I’ve ever tasted, some braised chicken livers in a caramelized onion and pancetta sauce, and then the coup de gras, a fried softshell crab BLT. Everything was fresh and as tasty as could be. After filling up on all the wonders of the Magnolia I popped over to the Smoker’s Lamp to pick up a couple more sticks for the road. We walked around the pier and enjoyed the day a bit more before heading back to the house to pack and say our goodbyes. We were on the road by 4:30 and back home by 10. I’m still confused about what to eat for lunch as I don’t have any seafood readily available to me and I’ve eaten nothing but crustacean for three days….but I’ll survive.
This little vacation has been a while coming and was all too short, but still much appreciated. For now I hope you’ve enjoyed reading my clumsy synopsis of a beautiful weekend, by mid-week I should be back to my ranting form. For now I’m just going to sit back, close my eyes, and pretend the shrill voices of my co-workers are seagulls, and the air conditioner is the ocean wind.
Here’s to better days, and other days spend dreaming about them…
Captain.
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3 comments:
I should never had read this before lunch. All those tasty crustaceans have got my tummy rumbling. Yum.
Yeah, we timed that trip well, last weekend was the blessing of the fleet and the beginning of shrimp season.
Fun read! Sounds lovely
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