Note: We freshened up before going out for our walk, drinks and dinner, which is a term that I never truly understood until I spent a serious amount of time in the South. Multiple showers a day are necessary in this heat but as that is impractical, one rinses off in the shower or washes her face 2 or 3 times per day to avoid looking like a wet rat. Anyway, this is off topic and real Southern women would probably say that I just don't have that "glow" versus "sweat" thing down yet.
We strolled around the historic district of Charleston where there were a large number of fantastic windows and doors to photograph. Anyone who knows me well or has traveled anywhere with me knows that I like interesting doors and windows. The one posted here was my favorite, the rest will go up elsewhere.
We found our way to The Battery, which we would later learn was really a landfill for early Charlestonians. It was also not where the first shots of the Civil War were fired from as the history is popularly retold. In fact, Fort Sumter was fired upon from three smaller forts on the mainland and the harbor, quite a distance from the Battery. Despite all this, there are canons and statues honoring the brave Confederate soldiers pretty much everywhere.Arriving at Cypress was like walking off a street in historic Newport into the new trendy spot in Manhattan on an off night. It was impeccably decorated, mixing modern style with the colonial architecture of the building. The food was excellent. Mom had an eggplant Napolean and I had almond-fried Brie with cranberry chutney. She also had a sweet tea mojito which won the drink competition, even though my Sauvi-Blanc was excellent. And yes, I'm going to be a foodie for a minute because that's part of what this little adventure is about. Yummy yummy food. 82 Queen was excellent, although I had barely enough room left to eat a third of the buttermilk fried chicken I had. Mom's shrimp and grits were excellent and (despite the unnecessarily loud French Canadians next to us) the experience was wonderful. When we returned to the hotel, we had coffee and cookies, Mom fell asleep and I watched Michael Phelps and Company beat the French in the 4x100 Freestyle Relay. The race was incredible, and while I tried, I couldn't stay up for the Medal ceremony. I will say, the French anchorman had the same dazed-and-confused look on his face that most of the Patriots did after that stupid helmet catch lost them the Superbowl.
This morning, we ventured out for a Carriage ride (my Mother's weakness). Eric, our driver and Assault and Battery, our dear mules provided shade and education for an hour long jaunt around the historic district. Apparently these two particular mules don't like the barn staff very much, hence their names. The ride provided a much-enjoyed commentary on early Charleston, its architecture, and society. Below is Rainbow Row, the longest continuous set of colonial buildings in the country.
Our driver did skip from the early settlements in the 1670s and 1680s straight to the Earthquake of 1886, conveniently missing that pesky "War Between the States". In reality, the funniest part of Eric's talk was about Charleston's many churches and bells. During the war, the city gave its church bells to Vicksburg to be melted down into ammo for the Confederate army, with the guarantee that for every one bell they gave, they would receive two at the war's end. Provided that the South won. As can be expected, it took a while to get a few of them back.Finally, we toured the Edmonston-Alston house, which contains 90% original furniture, making it one of the more authentic Charleston homes. The house was gorgeous, obviously an important piece of old Charleston and well-restored. But the coolest part was the joggling board. An interesting, rocking bench-like apparatus that can not easily be explained with words.
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