The Archive

Doing the Charleston

Day four (?) and I am awoken by a phone call.

‘tis Pellet.

“Are you coming or not? We’re in reception”

Oh, right. Two hours of sleep, more than enough for any chap I’d say.

Still, Wig had much the same, so I wasn’t alone at least.

So a quick shower and off we went into the Savannah sunshine for a spot of lunch (ie scanning a menu wondering what exactly might stay down for longer than three minutes).

Now you remember how we searched high and low for a bar that wasn’t playing live music in New York right? Well guess what? We’d arrived in Savannah in the middle of a bloody music festival.

So once again we were regaled by a banjo-strumming yokel as we attempted to force down another 60,000 calorie meal and a couple of beers (to take the edge off, you know).

Once we had eaten and caught up with one another’s adventures of the previous evening, we saddled up and hit the road.

Fortunately for us, the thing about driving in America is that it is not really like driving at all. You simply get on to the interstate, point the car at your destination and sit there for the next 2 – 7 hours. With no need to steer AND cruise control, it’s hardly surprising you hear stories of little old ladies going into the back of their RVs to make a cup of tea.

In fact, I’m pretty sure Patrick copped a couple of hours sleep on the drive to Charleston.

Still, the journey remained uneventful, with me resting (recovering) in the back seat which, surrounded by the rear speakers as it was came to be known as ‘The Cage of Sound’ (giving it the additional comfort of making the occupant totally unable to hear anything the others were saying).

Soundtrack Note: To experience the joys of this journey, please listen to Roots Manuva ‘Witness da Fitness’ (the Gruffalo Cometh) and anything by The Go Team (sounds like 3 radios being played at once, but is strangely brilliant).

Finally, we arrived at the big round hotel just outside Charleston, South Carolina, where Beardog deployed his advanced negotiation skills and procured us rooms.

As we unpacked, the city obliged us with natural entertainment in the form of a massive downpour, blowing gales and fantastically forked lightning, which we enjoyed whilst sitting at the bar at the top of the hotel (hurrah, altitiude), before considering where to go for a Saturday night in Charleston.

posted by Peter The Great @ 9:45 AM