Ahhh, Savannah. If you have never been, you should go, and you should be prepared to want to stay. Forever.

Our first night, we were fairly beat and decided just to stroll across Forsyth park (just at the end of our street) to Bull Street, the main north/south street in town that takes you all the way to the Savannah river if you let it. Bull St. is full if small cafes, pubs, coffee shops and boutiques and has a square about every two blocks. Each square is just a lovely little haven of oak trees laden with Spanish moss, grass, benches, people reading or walking their dogs and a statue at least or fountain at most in the center.

We walked a few blocks up Bull, taking in the idea that we were in the South and that the temperature was still about 80 at 8:00 p.m. The humidity was far less than here in CR, so we were happy and comfortable when we found a little pub (turns out it is the original English pub in Savannah) where we had a simple meal and a couple of glasses of wine while sitting at our table on the sidewalk and watching people stroll by.

We stayed at the Catherine Ward House Inn and our hostesses; Bea and Leslie were just fabulous. Our room was downstairs from the main floor and had its own little hallway to the hidden garden patio in back, where we enjoyed the evening before our dinner stroll, and where we had Mark and Anne over for wine the next night.

Thursday morning saw Steve sad to have missed the 5:30 a.m. fishing trip with the wedding party, but at least mildly rested as he and I bumbled up the stairs barely in time for breakfast (it ended at 9:00 a.m. and I think we sat down around 8:58 a.m.). We had a lovely (and huge) breakfast of fruit, French toast, coffee, juice, bacon AND sausage. After that, my big ambitions for the day dwindled to taking a nap in my fluffy bed downstairs, which is just what I indulgently did. Meanwhile, Steve got some work done by mooching internet from somewhere close by.

Awaking for the second time at noon, I found Steve patiently waiting, but slightly restless to see Savannah. We opted for the uber-touristy hour-and-a-half trolley tour around town. We had a great young guide who knew his history and his biology and gave us a super tour, until we got off to walk through an old house that’s been restored to its 1820’s original look. The tour was short and sweet, which was good, as we were starving. So after marveling at the tin tub in which the entire family bathed, one after the other in the same water starting with the father on down, and the intricately detailed crown molding, we scooted off to a nearby café for lunch. Both our eyes landed upon the black-eyed-pea cake sandwich and lunch was decided. We took it to go and ate in the park, by a fountain, in the middle of Savannah! I was thrilled. Another trolley pulled up just as we were finishing, so we hopped on for the rest of the tour. This time our guide was born and raised in Savannah and he was a hoot! He told us a story about a fairly unknown battle in Savannah during the Civil War with enough clichéd adjectives and trembling tones to make us both giggle, but we swear, we did so very quietly.


Back at the ranch, the Innkeepers were still concerned that we weren’t sure where the rehearsal dinner was on Friday, much less where the wedding was. Having learned that Savannah is tiny and knowing that Brian and Carrie could tell us where to go, we were not the least bit worried, but I do believe our laidback attitude was perhaps even too much for these Southerners! What we did know, was that this night, B and C were having a little get together at the Westin on the east side of the river and we were invited. We showed up a little late, owing to our nap that went a wee bit longer than we meant it to and were greeted warmly by Brian saying, “What does it take to get a Broyles around here?!” Obviously, Steve’s presence had been missed during the week. We did the meet and greet and got to see Carrie for the first time since July! Carrie and I hadn’t seen each other in two full months and mind you, when she’s here we see each other just about every day.

We enjoyed meeting family members and close friends for a few minutes and then everyone headed out for dinner at a place called Tubby’s on the west side of the river. The name really should say it all as there are only two things on the menu that aren’t fried and that’s the sautéed vegetables that come dripping in butter and the shrimp. Holy cow, we’ve never tasted such flavorful shrimp in our lives. I also discovered hush puppies. As I quietly leaned over to my new friend Lou (the wedding photog) and said, “What are those little fried balls on your plate?” (They really didn’t seem to go with her steamed crab and were just sort of plopped there on top, looking for all the world like they were about to roll off.) Well, Lou thought this was about the funniest thing she’d heard all week and proceeded to tell a table full of people from Georgia, North Carolina and Kentucky that I didn’t know what hush puppies were. Now, if _you’re_ not from Georgia, North Carolina or Kentucky either, let me tell you what hush puppies are as learned from two southern girls who had presumably been eating them all their lives: They are dough and sugar and maybe spice and maybe onions, but if Heather’s grandmother is making them, they don’t have cinnamon, but usually they have sugar, and sometimes too much sugar for Heather’s taste, but maybe if it’s Christmas time they’ll have the onions, or maybe it was at Christmas that they were too sweet and didn’t have the onions. Or maybe the onions were only at Christmas, but the take home message was absolutely that they always have the dough and they are always, always, always fried. Try one. They’re, well, hush puppies.

That, thank God, was the last Southern faux pas I made all weekend. I think. I should ask Lou.

Friday morning came all too quickly, but we made it on time for breakfast, just barely again, and then I retired to my room for my morning nap. I needed to be at the Westin at 11:30 or 12:00 p.m. for Carrie’s ladies luncheon by the pool. It was a rough weekend, I tell ya. I got to meet more of her friends and got to see some whom I’d met in Atlanta last April. It was fun to see some familiar faces and great to meet friends about whom Carrie has been talking since I met her. We sunbathed and drank Bloody Mary’s and generally had a very loungy time of it until about 2:00 p.m. when the bride and most everyone else decided that it was time for a nap. I managed to stroll through Forsyth park and read a book on the grass, as well as by the fountain. Yes, I moved. You’ve got to sit in all spots of the park while you can if you’re only there for three days. Then I got tired and went back to the room for a pre-rehearsal/rehearsal dinner nap.

Labels: food, photo, travel, wedding