Savanah III

It’s already becoming a blur for me.  Beautiful squares:

Beautiful houses:

And then I reach a point of overload.  Yes, it’s all beautiful, and I just can’t do anymore.  No more pictures.  No more beautiful rooms with amazing furniture.  No more souvenir shops. 

I hit that point about 4:30 yesterday, and after that I was just driving Julia around, like Driving Miss Daisy.  I’d go straight, turn left, turn right, just following directions, til she’d say – there!  park!

And I would.  She’d jump out and disappear into another square, camera in hand. I’d close my eyes and snooze.  Waiting for the next directions – go straight…

But I’ve skipped to the end of the story, well, one of the ends, and there’s still so much to tell.  Ok, backing up now.

There was Chris and the bus tour, and the 10,000 stories he told, and then the ghost tour that night, which he also led.  That was lots of fun.  He totally sold me on the idea that on a battlefield where 1100 men were killed in 55 minutes, there must be ghosts.  While I haven’t been able to find conformation of his exact version of the story, which involved betrayal and great drama, it is apparently true that about that many men died in what is called “the bloodiest hour of the Revolutionary War.”

Also interesting were the four prohibitions that Savannah started with:

–  No lawyers
–  No hard alcohol
–  No Catholics  and
–  No slavery

Eventually, of course, all of those prohibitions were lifted.  Slaves in Savannah, however, had a slightly different experience than elsewhere in the country.  I had read this somewhere before, but forgotten it. 

Slaves in Savannah were allowed to travel into town and work at a variety of trades, such as blacksmithing or weaving.  They were allowed to keep the wages they made from these endeavours.  If they purchased their freedom, they were treated pretty much like other citizens (with the exception of the vote, I think.)   So that created a somewhat different atmosphere in Savannah.

Having read “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” before I came to Savannah, I already knew that Savannah locals pride themselves on being a little eccentric, with Southern charm to spare.  For sure, that’s true.

Tuesday night, we had dinner at The Pirate’s House as part of the ghost tour.  It was fun to see the cellar where the underground tunnel was open for rum-runners coming in – and kidnapped men and boys being “shanghai-ed” to sea.  Of course, Chris gave us graphic details of the cruelty imposed on the kidnapped men – and the men who were injured and left behind to die.

We were encouraged to take pictures in the area, and assured of the likelihood of capturing some ghosts on film.  

Unfortunately, all my pictures look like this.  No, I can’t see the ghosts either.  Julia, however, has some on her camera that are pretty impressive, and I’ll post them when she sends them to me.

But it was even more fun to listen to our server, Elijah, rave about the ghost pictures he’s captured on film.  He was passionate about it, and divided his time pretty evenly between providing impeccable service to our table for dinner and accompanying us to even better areas to catch glimpses of ghosts.

I did cringe a little when he referred to us as “young ladies,” but he couldn’t have known that we wouldn’t have been delighted.  Well, and I wasn’t thrilled when he called us “love,” as if he were British – “Here you go, luv,” as he set a plate down.  But those were minor negatives, and he was friendly and fun.

Here’s a picture of the Pirate’s House restaurant – that’s Chris, our tour guide, back in the corner.  

Ok, so that kind of brings us up to date – well, not really, but it gets us through Tuesday night, pretty much, kind of, and that’s something. 

Today, we move to Tybee Island.  It’s supposed to go up to 60 degrees and the sun’s shining – woohoo!  and I’m excited.  Julia’s taken the car and gone to explore more of the city.  When she comes back, we’ll go see the couple of more things I want to see, and head out.

Stay tuned…  tomorrow I’ll tell you about the one rude person we met…  Oh – here’s what I saw from my balcony today: 

Ok, unfortunately, you can’t really tell what it is.  However – see the bridge off to the left – then look at the big thing that looks like another building in the background – that’s actually a ship.  The little white piece with the red top sticking up?  Part of the ship. 

So my pictures may not be professional quality.  I actually forgot I had a real camera here and the iphone may be a little limited…. 

About Fausta

Trauma sensitive Consultant and Coach for Compassionate professionals who experience second hand trauma and are at risk of burnout so they can keep doing the work that matters to them and to the world.

Posted on December 16, 2010, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. obviously i am behind on catching up on your blog…i so understand the sensory overload…you see so much and then…*bing* filled up!It's funny that the "endearments" bother you…not something that bothers me at all. Well, unless the service is sloppy or slow…then it merely seems ingratiating.Glad your vaca was fun!Kirsty


  2. Hey, Kirsty,It wasn't the endearment that got me – it was the fake British accent… lol.Fausta


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