3 Days On The Road
Oct. 7th, 2021 06:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
waitingmanFrom Nashville to Charleston - we have officially crossed the country!!
Oct. 4 Thursday – Nashville to Atlanta
A slightly late start to the day, as the last few days caught up with us. Breakfast was conveniently located next door to the motel... Waffle House, where we had... well the obvious. After that, things got a little more difficult. It was not a good day in Nashville for finding things we wanted to see. The Gibson Bluegrass Exhibit doesn’t seem to exist anymore – certainly not in the location it was meant to be & nobody answered at the phone numbers we tried. The Opry was tacked onto a shopping mall & proved to be difficult to access during the day, which in turn put us off another trip downtown to the Strip just to look at the Ryman Auditorium, which only houses the Opry from November to January anyway. The replica Parthenon in Centennial Park was a bit of a letdown. A bit too clean-looking... give it a thousand years or so for it to look a little better & photogenic...
Then a drive to Katy K’s Ranch Dressing, a clothing shop run by an ex-costumier to New York Drag Queens & latterly to Country Royalty... Photos of both sides of her clientele were autographed on the shop walls. The front door was guarded by a franxious cat who couldn’t decide whether to be friendly or skittish, so was both... typical cat then, really. We were there to look for wedding outfits for next month (that close already?!), but only found a nice frock-coat for me. It’s a start... (2021 update: Unfortunately Katy's closed up shop in 2015...)
In the less salubrious end of town, we found Prince’s Chicken Shop, recommended by the USA Guide to Lonely Planets as being worth a visit. Well, as a cultural clash experience it was... interesting. The staff & clientele were all African American & while I have no problem walking into these kinds of places, the people in this place seemed to make it known they have a problem with me. It took quite a while for Julia’s simple order to be ready, so we sat on a couple of chairs & tried to be unobtrusive, while also being unimpressed at how people who’d ordered after us were served before us. If that wasn’t a sign it was time to move on, the petrol station up the road from there definitely was. Like the one we’d found in Las Vegas, we had to pay inside the store before filling up & the attendant seemed reluctant to leave his bulletproof enclosure. At least there were no slot machines in there this time
So, onto the freeway & off to Chattanooga, the Lookout Mountain, Ruby Falls & Rock City for another American Gods-inspired adventure, after House On The Rock turned out to be such a wonderful find. Three hours or so later, we crossed another time zone, making it four hours later. We arrived at Ruby Falls just before 5pm, to find that the only way to see this waterfall in a cave was to take an hour-long tour after paying thirty dollars. We weren’t interested in their replica ghost town, or their café, or gift shop – we just wanted to see the waterfall... dammit! We decided against the tour & headed up the hill to Rock City, where from Lookout Point you can see seven States, apparently. Upon arriving, we discovered that the only way to get to the Lookout was to pay twenty dollars, which also gave us access to the Fairy Village, the Gift shop &... you get the idea. We weren’t interested in fairies or gifts - we just wanted to see the view... dammit!! We decided against this too & headed back down the mountain & out of Tennessee towards Atlanta, Georgia
Arriving in Atlanta, as usual, as the sun set, we first went to Fat Matt’s Rib Shack, another recommendation from the USA Guide to Lonely Planets as being good food & good music. The pulled pork sandwiches we had weren’t bad, certainly, though we were a bit surprised by the packet of potato crisps on the plate when the menu had said ‘served with fries’ - something seemed to have been lost in the Georgian translation... Not long afterwards, the band started up – two old African-Americans on piano & guitar, a younger AA on bass & token white guy on drums The piano player couldn’t half play that thing... by which I mean he could only play half that thing... he was a bit hit & mostly-miss. Despite, or maybe because of that, the music lurched along in a kind of down-homey way, which was kind of fun, really...
We left towards the end of the first set & went in search of accommodation. Our first choice was the closest Super 8, but after driving in increasingly fractious circles for twenty-five minutes without finding it, the decision was made to not throw Jeeves the Navman out the window & drive over him repeatedly, but instead to find another motel. This was also a Super 8, but on another side of town & by the time we got there, I was running on... not much at all really, so when the desk clerk began giving us the runaround in broken English about room availability, he was lucky he didn’t replace Jeeves Navman in the above-described scenario. Finally into the room we booked, some luggage re-organising & now to bed
Oct. 5 Friday – Atlanta to Augusta
Not too unhappy about leaving this Super 8... & its toilet that was barely attached to the bathroom floor, making night-time ablutions just that little bit more thrilling... Only a short drive today, Augusta is about two hours away from Atlanta & we’re in the same State two days in a row. But just as in Tennessee when we stayed in Memphis & Nashville, Atlanta & Augusta are two quite different places. Breakfast at another Waffle House, where I had a chicken breast with eggs & Julia had a B&E sandwich. Both were delicious, actually... Maybe we’re acclimatising... but not completely - I still spell words like that with an ‘s’ instead of a ’z’
According to Julia’s old friend Nick, who lives in Augusta, Waffle House doesn’t really qualify as fast food, which made us feel a bit better about it. We’re still amazed though, at the things Americans put high-fructose corn syrup into – ketchup, biscuits, lemonade... (Why America, why??!!). However, we’re learning to avoid it & do without some things ‘til we get back to Australia, where we at least use sugar cane. Before Augusta though, we took a detour through Athens – where both the B52s & REM hail from. A small, quite picturesque college town, but there were no signs of Kate Pierson or Michael Stipe, even outside what Google said was Peter Buck’s house (or did Google say ‘used to be’?)... so we continued on, wondering what the American obsession with Ancient Greek towns is all about - Memphis, Athens... numerous Alexandrias, Argos, Arcadia, there's a Delphi in Indiana & a Sparta in Tennessee too. Then again, we have the town of Texas, in south-east Queensland back home, so who are we to judge...?
Arriving in Augusta (now it's Roman names!?!?) about 3pm, we broke with the Super 8 tradition & checked into a ‘Comfort Inn’. A little more expensive, but at least the toilet is firmly attached to the floor, unlike last night’s place & there was no broken English, or bulletproof glass to contend with while checking in. Another rarity for me, I fell asleep on the comfortable bed for about half an hour before we went to meet up with Nick, whom Julia had last physically spoken to on Sept. 11, 2001, though they’ve kept up electronic correspondence over the years... Certainly enough for them to recognise each other at the café/bar we found him in. Augusta is another Georgian college town & has a pretty relaxed attitude to a lot of things, including smoking indoors – you can do so after 3 or 4pm in bars & restaurants. Quite unusual, as this certainly doesn’t happen in Australia & indeed, we haven’t seen it anywhere else in our time over here
The next few hours were a bit of a pub crawl up Augusta’s main street, dodging the Zombie parade walkers & pretending to be scared when they pressed themselves up against the windows. All in good fun & some of the costumes were impressive... Others seemed to be walking along with the undead just because it was a parade – no costume, no “Brains”, just trucker caps & t-shirts. But I love Augusta because I had my first Guinness in the USA that came from a real tap. Then a second in another bar. Nick had to go to work at yet another bar, so we tagged along with him to an underground (literally) place, where the staff were friendly, the acoustic guitarist was good & the talk turned to politics (Nick is studying political science, so no sides were declared or taken, just analysed), until we pleaded fatigue & made our way through the quite busy streets back to where we’d left Steve McQueen. Apparently, we’d arrived on a day when about four different events were going on in town & the place is usually not as busy. There was certainly a strong police presence on the streets, so even the wannabe-gangstas & their pit-bull terriers were on best behaviour as they swaggered down the sidewalks
Arrangements are in place to have crab legs & cakes with Nick tomorrow for lunch, then maybe, we’ll make it to Charleston in South Carolina by evening...
Oct. 6 Saturday – Augusta to Charleston
A largely free morning, so after a ‘Continental’ breakfast at the Comfort Inn, we mooched around the place for a while before heading back downtown to meet up with Nick for lunch. Arriving a bit early, we wandered the main street & down to the Savannah River, which forms part of the border with South Carolina
Almost symmetrical... just a fraction too late on the button!!
Other than frolicking squirrels though, there wasn’t a great deal to see - the river was rolling along dependably but not spectacularly & the banks were... functional, mercifully, but not much more than that, so we headed back to Steve M via a small market set up near James Brown Park, on James Brown Boulevarde. Did I mention Augusta was James Brown’s hometown? Could you guess?? We checked out the local record store & they didn’t seem to have anything ever recorded by a white person... & most certainly not by the English folk band Mumford & Sons, whose new album we’ve been trying to find for a couple of weeks. That didn't mean I couldn't find some stuff there I was interested in, but most of what they had was rap & RnB... even their James Brown section was under-represented!!
Then off to pick up Nick & meet Flynn, his undersize Labrador & hear stories of what went on in town last night after we left. Apparently there had been a shooting incident at one of the street events which meant that even more police had arrived. No word on injuries or arrests & I doubt it would make the evening news in whatever town we wind up in tonight. Anyway, time for brunch. We headed to another part of town, past the Augusta golf course, where the PGA Masters Tournament is played, to an unassuming shack called Rhinehart’s, for a couple of pounds of Alaskan crab legs, some chowder & jambalaya. This was possibly the best lunch we’ve had in the USA... the legs were fantastic & the butter dipping sauce made them even better. Unlike our past experiences with crab, these were easy to break apart & get to the meat & their size meant you got a decent amount of meat too. The chowder & jambalaya were pretty good, but were eclipsed through no fault of their own by those legs! On any other day, or at least a day without crabs, they’d be a highlight... Unfortunately, the place had sold out of the book written by one of the owners called ‘Fish Gutting for Newlyweds’, a tongue-firmly-in-cheek ‘advice’ book for surviving marriage in a culture obsessed with killing creatures from the rivers & seas. The little I read of the sample copy was laugh-aloud funny & convinced me to find it on Amazon.com when we get back home. A great time, great lunch & a great place...
Not feeling quite full yet, we headed back to the main part of town to another unassuming storefront that concealed a great little dessert & cake café. As we headed for our table, we saw huge slabs of cake being delivered to a table of four kids & their parents. I thought there was no way they’d get through those things, but five minutes later when we looked around, the plates had nothing but a few crumbs on them & the kids were off & running... & yelling... fortunately on their way out. I ordered a slice of cinnamon cheesecake, Nick had a peanut butter pie slice & Julia wanted a piece of red velvet cake. Well, Nick’s slice & mine were your average size slice, but Julia’s was one of those huge ones we’d seen. As I write this, there’s still some left over in the room refrigerator here in Charleston. Terrible coffee though. To be fair, when asked if the place did good coffee, Nick had said “Well... They do coffee” & left it at that, so it was our own fault. Thank god we’d both had a Nespresso that morning
A farewell to Nick outside the place where we’d met him yesterday – nice guy, we’ll stay in touch - & it was off over the river & into South Carolina, home State of Ben Folds, though we’re yet to see a statue, park or boulevarde in his honour. Jeeves Navman took us along some smaller roads & byways that let us get photos of cotton fields & a derelict farmhouse & barn, which we spotted when it looked like the machinery was waving to us from the side of the road...
Howdy Neighbour!!
Me & my wife can pick abale piece of cotton...
I brought a piece of cotton picked right from the plant back to the car for Julia & we were both amazed to feel how soft it was. She’d never seen cotton growing before &, to be fair, neither had I, though I’d known what it looked like, so recognised the fields when we saw them
Into Charleston at our usual time of sunset & checked in at our second Comfort Suites Motel, which we’d booked this morning before leaving the first one. The desk clerk looked at my NSW Driver’s License & said I looked like a celebrity... I said the photo looked more like a celebrity mug-shot & she laughed, so I never found out which celebrity she was thinking of... Maybe it’s best I don’t know...
Off to dinner at Hank’s, the first seafood restaurant Google recommended we try, down near the waterfront next to a parking station, so at least there was no problem putting Steve M close by. Half a dozen Oysters Casino – kind of a cross between Kilpatrick & Mornay, but the best parts of both, then I had Seafood A la Wando – various fish pieces, prawns & scallops in a creamy sauce, with mushrooms that I donated to Julia’s meal of Shrimp & Grits, which was also in a tasty sauce. A nice shiraz-grenache of unknown origin to go with it, then for a post-prandial walk, we headed down to the waterfront to officially complete our coast-to-coast crossing. Trying to find a public access point amongst the commercial wharves, we found Fort Sumter, the place where the first shots of the Civil War were fired, by the Union forces, blowing the place to smithereens. Then they re-built it, occupied it & the Confederates took their turn at blowing it up as well. What’s left is now a National Monument we’ll need to come back & see in daylight. We also failed to take decent photos of the nearby bridge that looked like a giant version of the Anzac Bridge in Sydney – the light wasn’t particularly favourable, so we gave up, went back to the motel & went to bed
Charleston Harbour at night...
Oct. 4 Thursday – Nashville to Atlanta
A slightly late start to the day, as the last few days caught up with us. Breakfast was conveniently located next door to the motel... Waffle House, where we had... well the obvious. After that, things got a little more difficult. It was not a good day in Nashville for finding things we wanted to see. The Gibson Bluegrass Exhibit doesn’t seem to exist anymore – certainly not in the location it was meant to be & nobody answered at the phone numbers we tried. The Opry was tacked onto a shopping mall & proved to be difficult to access during the day, which in turn put us off another trip downtown to the Strip just to look at the Ryman Auditorium, which only houses the Opry from November to January anyway. The replica Parthenon in Centennial Park was a bit of a letdown. A bit too clean-looking... give it a thousand years or so for it to look a little better & photogenic...
Then a drive to Katy K’s Ranch Dressing, a clothing shop run by an ex-costumier to New York Drag Queens & latterly to Country Royalty... Photos of both sides of her clientele were autographed on the shop walls. The front door was guarded by a franxious cat who couldn’t decide whether to be friendly or skittish, so was both... typical cat then, really. We were there to look for wedding outfits for next month (that close already?!), but only found a nice frock-coat for me. It’s a start... (2021 update: Unfortunately Katy's closed up shop in 2015...)
In the less salubrious end of town, we found Prince’s Chicken Shop, recommended by the USA Guide to Lonely Planets as being worth a visit. Well, as a cultural clash experience it was... interesting. The staff & clientele were all African American & while I have no problem walking into these kinds of places, the people in this place seemed to make it known they have a problem with me. It took quite a while for Julia’s simple order to be ready, so we sat on a couple of chairs & tried to be unobtrusive, while also being unimpressed at how people who’d ordered after us were served before us. If that wasn’t a sign it was time to move on, the petrol station up the road from there definitely was. Like the one we’d found in Las Vegas, we had to pay inside the store before filling up & the attendant seemed reluctant to leave his bulletproof enclosure. At least there were no slot machines in there this time
So, onto the freeway & off to Chattanooga, the Lookout Mountain, Ruby Falls & Rock City for another American Gods-inspired adventure, after House On The Rock turned out to be such a wonderful find. Three hours or so later, we crossed another time zone, making it four hours later. We arrived at Ruby Falls just before 5pm, to find that the only way to see this waterfall in a cave was to take an hour-long tour after paying thirty dollars. We weren’t interested in their replica ghost town, or their café, or gift shop – we just wanted to see the waterfall... dammit! We decided against the tour & headed up the hill to Rock City, where from Lookout Point you can see seven States, apparently. Upon arriving, we discovered that the only way to get to the Lookout was to pay twenty dollars, which also gave us access to the Fairy Village, the Gift shop &... you get the idea. We weren’t interested in fairies or gifts - we just wanted to see the view... dammit!! We decided against this too & headed back down the mountain & out of Tennessee towards Atlanta, Georgia
Arriving in Atlanta, as usual, as the sun set, we first went to Fat Matt’s Rib Shack, another recommendation from the USA Guide to Lonely Planets as being good food & good music. The pulled pork sandwiches we had weren’t bad, certainly, though we were a bit surprised by the packet of potato crisps on the plate when the menu had said ‘served with fries’ - something seemed to have been lost in the Georgian translation... Not long afterwards, the band started up – two old African-Americans on piano & guitar, a younger AA on bass & token white guy on drums The piano player couldn’t half play that thing... by which I mean he could only play half that thing... he was a bit hit & mostly-miss. Despite, or maybe because of that, the music lurched along in a kind of down-homey way, which was kind of fun, really...
We left towards the end of the first set & went in search of accommodation. Our first choice was the closest Super 8, but after driving in increasingly fractious circles for twenty-five minutes without finding it, the decision was made to not throw Jeeves the Navman out the window & drive over him repeatedly, but instead to find another motel. This was also a Super 8, but on another side of town & by the time we got there, I was running on... not much at all really, so when the desk clerk began giving us the runaround in broken English about room availability, he was lucky he didn’t replace Jeeves Navman in the above-described scenario. Finally into the room we booked, some luggage re-organising & now to bed
Oct. 5 Friday – Atlanta to Augusta
Not too unhappy about leaving this Super 8... & its toilet that was barely attached to the bathroom floor, making night-time ablutions just that little bit more thrilling... Only a short drive today, Augusta is about two hours away from Atlanta & we’re in the same State two days in a row. But just as in Tennessee when we stayed in Memphis & Nashville, Atlanta & Augusta are two quite different places. Breakfast at another Waffle House, where I had a chicken breast with eggs & Julia had a B&E sandwich. Both were delicious, actually... Maybe we’re acclimatising... but not completely - I still spell words like that with an ‘s’ instead of a ’z’
According to Julia’s old friend Nick, who lives in Augusta, Waffle House doesn’t really qualify as fast food, which made us feel a bit better about it. We’re still amazed though, at the things Americans put high-fructose corn syrup into – ketchup, biscuits, lemonade... (Why America, why??!!). However, we’re learning to avoid it & do without some things ‘til we get back to Australia, where we at least use sugar cane. Before Augusta though, we took a detour through Athens – where both the B52s & REM hail from. A small, quite picturesque college town, but there were no signs of Kate Pierson or Michael Stipe, even outside what Google said was Peter Buck’s house (or did Google say ‘used to be’?)... so we continued on, wondering what the American obsession with Ancient Greek towns is all about - Memphis, Athens... numerous Alexandrias, Argos, Arcadia, there's a Delphi in Indiana & a Sparta in Tennessee too. Then again, we have the town of Texas, in south-east Queensland back home, so who are we to judge...?
Arriving in Augusta (now it's Roman names!?!?) about 3pm, we broke with the Super 8 tradition & checked into a ‘Comfort Inn’. A little more expensive, but at least the toilet is firmly attached to the floor, unlike last night’s place & there was no broken English, or bulletproof glass to contend with while checking in. Another rarity for me, I fell asleep on the comfortable bed for about half an hour before we went to meet up with Nick, whom Julia had last physically spoken to on Sept. 11, 2001, though they’ve kept up electronic correspondence over the years... Certainly enough for them to recognise each other at the café/bar we found him in. Augusta is another Georgian college town & has a pretty relaxed attitude to a lot of things, including smoking indoors – you can do so after 3 or 4pm in bars & restaurants. Quite unusual, as this certainly doesn’t happen in Australia & indeed, we haven’t seen it anywhere else in our time over here
The next few hours were a bit of a pub crawl up Augusta’s main street, dodging the Zombie parade walkers & pretending to be scared when they pressed themselves up against the windows. All in good fun & some of the costumes were impressive... Others seemed to be walking along with the undead just because it was a parade – no costume, no “Brains”, just trucker caps & t-shirts. But I love Augusta because I had my first Guinness in the USA that came from a real tap. Then a second in another bar. Nick had to go to work at yet another bar, so we tagged along with him to an underground (literally) place, where the staff were friendly, the acoustic guitarist was good & the talk turned to politics (Nick is studying political science, so no sides were declared or taken, just analysed), until we pleaded fatigue & made our way through the quite busy streets back to where we’d left Steve McQueen. Apparently, we’d arrived on a day when about four different events were going on in town & the place is usually not as busy. There was certainly a strong police presence on the streets, so even the wannabe-gangstas & their pit-bull terriers were on best behaviour as they swaggered down the sidewalks
Arrangements are in place to have crab legs & cakes with Nick tomorrow for lunch, then maybe, we’ll make it to Charleston in South Carolina by evening...
Oct. 6 Saturday – Augusta to Charleston
A largely free morning, so after a ‘Continental’ breakfast at the Comfort Inn, we mooched around the place for a while before heading back downtown to meet up with Nick for lunch. Arriving a bit early, we wandered the main street & down to the Savannah River, which forms part of the border with South Carolina
Almost symmetrical... just a fraction too late on the button!!
Other than frolicking squirrels though, there wasn’t a great deal to see - the river was rolling along dependably but not spectacularly & the banks were... functional, mercifully, but not much more than that, so we headed back to Steve M via a small market set up near James Brown Park, on James Brown Boulevarde. Did I mention Augusta was James Brown’s hometown? Could you guess?? We checked out the local record store & they didn’t seem to have anything ever recorded by a white person... & most certainly not by the English folk band Mumford & Sons, whose new album we’ve been trying to find for a couple of weeks. That didn't mean I couldn't find some stuff there I was interested in, but most of what they had was rap & RnB... even their James Brown section was under-represented!!
Then off to pick up Nick & meet Flynn, his undersize Labrador & hear stories of what went on in town last night after we left. Apparently there had been a shooting incident at one of the street events which meant that even more police had arrived. No word on injuries or arrests & I doubt it would make the evening news in whatever town we wind up in tonight. Anyway, time for brunch. We headed to another part of town, past the Augusta golf course, where the PGA Masters Tournament is played, to an unassuming shack called Rhinehart’s, for a couple of pounds of Alaskan crab legs, some chowder & jambalaya. This was possibly the best lunch we’ve had in the USA... the legs were fantastic & the butter dipping sauce made them even better. Unlike our past experiences with crab, these were easy to break apart & get to the meat & their size meant you got a decent amount of meat too. The chowder & jambalaya were pretty good, but were eclipsed through no fault of their own by those legs! On any other day, or at least a day without crabs, they’d be a highlight... Unfortunately, the place had sold out of the book written by one of the owners called ‘Fish Gutting for Newlyweds’, a tongue-firmly-in-cheek ‘advice’ book for surviving marriage in a culture obsessed with killing creatures from the rivers & seas. The little I read of the sample copy was laugh-aloud funny & convinced me to find it on Amazon.com when we get back home. A great time, great lunch & a great place...
Not feeling quite full yet, we headed back to the main part of town to another unassuming storefront that concealed a great little dessert & cake café. As we headed for our table, we saw huge slabs of cake being delivered to a table of four kids & their parents. I thought there was no way they’d get through those things, but five minutes later when we looked around, the plates had nothing but a few crumbs on them & the kids were off & running... & yelling... fortunately on their way out. I ordered a slice of cinnamon cheesecake, Nick had a peanut butter pie slice & Julia wanted a piece of red velvet cake. Well, Nick’s slice & mine were your average size slice, but Julia’s was one of those huge ones we’d seen. As I write this, there’s still some left over in the room refrigerator here in Charleston. Terrible coffee though. To be fair, when asked if the place did good coffee, Nick had said “Well... They do coffee” & left it at that, so it was our own fault. Thank god we’d both had a Nespresso that morning
A farewell to Nick outside the place where we’d met him yesterday – nice guy, we’ll stay in touch - & it was off over the river & into South Carolina, home State of Ben Folds, though we’re yet to see a statue, park or boulevarde in his honour. Jeeves Navman took us along some smaller roads & byways that let us get photos of cotton fields & a derelict farmhouse & barn, which we spotted when it looked like the machinery was waving to us from the side of the road...
Howdy Neighbour!!
Me & my wife can pick a
I brought a piece of cotton picked right from the plant back to the car for Julia & we were both amazed to feel how soft it was. She’d never seen cotton growing before &, to be fair, neither had I, though I’d known what it looked like, so recognised the fields when we saw them
Into Charleston at our usual time of sunset & checked in at our second Comfort Suites Motel, which we’d booked this morning before leaving the first one. The desk clerk looked at my NSW Driver’s License & said I looked like a celebrity... I said the photo looked more like a celebrity mug-shot & she laughed, so I never found out which celebrity she was thinking of... Maybe it’s best I don’t know...
Off to dinner at Hank’s, the first seafood restaurant Google recommended we try, down near the waterfront next to a parking station, so at least there was no problem putting Steve M close by. Half a dozen Oysters Casino – kind of a cross between Kilpatrick & Mornay, but the best parts of both, then I had Seafood A la Wando – various fish pieces, prawns & scallops in a creamy sauce, with mushrooms that I donated to Julia’s meal of Shrimp & Grits, which was also in a tasty sauce. A nice shiraz-grenache of unknown origin to go with it, then for a post-prandial walk, we headed down to the waterfront to officially complete our coast-to-coast crossing. Trying to find a public access point amongst the commercial wharves, we found Fort Sumter, the place where the first shots of the Civil War were fired, by the Union forces, blowing the place to smithereens. Then they re-built it, occupied it & the Confederates took their turn at blowing it up as well. What’s left is now a National Monument we’ll need to come back & see in daylight. We also failed to take decent photos of the nearby bridge that looked like a giant version of the Anzac Bridge in Sydney – the light wasn’t particularly favourable, so we gave up, went back to the motel & went to bed
Charleston Harbour at night...
(no subject)
Date: 2021-10-07 01:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-10-07 10:13 pm (UTC)