Monday, September 17, 2012

Short Stories From Traveling Home Pt. 1

Savannah, Georgia.
Sometimes when I eat really good meals I plan my last bite out in advance.  I know exactly the flavors I want to linger in my mouth.  Like, when I’m eating seafood ravioli I know the garlic bread isn’t the winning last bite; it’s the noodle, a bit of ravioli stuffing and a bunch of sauce, washed down with a swig of wine.

Anyway, Savannah wasn’t like the all-knowing last bite.  I couldn’t figure out which part of Savannah I wanted to experience last.  Each time I turned the corner to see old buildings, beautiful homes, huge trees, frozen drink bars, breweries or, wait for it, FORSYTH Park, I wanted to let each of those experiences linger longer.  I wanted to freeze-frame the stories my husband told me of his younger self wandering this town many years ago while stationed at Ft. Stewart.  I wanted to knock on the doors of beautiful homes and ask if they wanted a houseguest for ever a while.  And, I wanted more peach sangria, and more people watching while eating pizza.  But, that’s the problem with road trips; they’re short.  You have to come and conquer in a hurry, and hope that the memories are solidified in your brain until next time.

Charleston, South Carolina.
Unfortunately, we were early for the whole Blake Lively / Ryan Reynolds nuptials.  But, I understand why they chose to get married in this location.  It is romantic.  Romantic like it feels right to walk into a beautiful restaurant, and splurge on the whole experience.  And, hold hands while exploring.  A morning run even feels romantic in this town.  I think it’s the scenery, but it might be the buildings, or brick roads, or fountains.  Or, it might have been the sight of my husband’s face when he spotted his utopia – a coffee shop / bakery / carrier of craft beers – at the end of said run.

{The bar pictured here is Closed For Business - Worth a stop if you're around!}

Asheville, North Carolina.
Something about Asheville made me laugh.   It started upon arrival and it really didn’t stop.  Maybe it was because the town reminded me of Portland and I couldn’t contain my excitement.  Maybe it was the amazing meal (the best of the entire journey!).  Maybe it was because, after a few too many beers, Andy and I thought we were hilarious in all sorts of weird ways.  Or, maybe it was because Asheville is confused about whether women need to wear shirts.  And, I was caught off guard.  And, I need to grow up!


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