I really had no expectations of Savannah; having absolutely no inkling of what the city was like.  After spending several days in Charleston, I suppose it was natural to think Savannah would be quite similar to Charleston, but nope, that’s not the case at all.

It was described to us as being hauntingly beautiful. And, a must see destination as we traveled south from Charleston to Savannah.  The Old Sheldon Church.  As it turned out, I cannot think of two more appropriate words to use other than hauntingly beautiful.

Do you ever think about what you would have chosen as a field of study if you had a “do-over?” If I had it to do over again, I’m pretty sure I would have been a history major. I love walking in the path of those who came before us. It is my absolute favorite aspect of travel – and life in general.

Here’s the thing about the deep south, and cities such as Charleston, Beaufort and Savannah, it’s kinda like no other place you’ll ever visit in the US.  But then again the same can probably be said about the Pacific Northwest or the Southwest or the Midwest Bible Belt.  But then again… the history of the south is, well, like no other.

As I write this post we are in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.  Myrtle Beach, not Asheville, North Carolina which is where we’re supposed to be, where it’s about 36 degrees and where the rain has been falling in torrential buckets for the better part of the day.  We spent over two hours this morning in a nearby coffee house nursing cups of hot steamy goodness while watching the downpour.  Now back in our hotel room, we are basically here in Myrtle Beach to wait out the storm.

I can’t be 60-years-old.  I simply cannot be 60.  Six-oh-no!  When did it happen?  How the hell did it happen?  I remember my mother at 60.  Sixty was my mother, not me.  Sixty sounds so old. But, the day has arrived. No matter how I fought it. It arrived. Today.  My birthday.  Can I just skip this day?

On Being Thankful

I’m thankful.  At a time when the world at large seems to be caught up in a manic spin cycle, I’m taking a moment to remember the good in the world; goodness we’ve been gifted with in our lives. I think it’s something we all tend to forget to do, I know I’m guilty of it.  Especially, in the past few weeks with the fueling of ignorance spreading like wildfire by presidential hopefuls and the mass media.  Why not lead the news with acts of good and kindness such as the little boy who wants to personally thank all of the NYPD?

I had you at the word, chocolate, right?

I caught the gist of the phrase based on what I was hearing on the news, but I have to admit I still went to everyone’s back-up source and Googled the term.

We walked away from Estella on the morning of day seven, after spending a 2nd night in an attempt to allow our bodies to get used to the idea of walking… walking… walking.  It was the first of only two times we would spend a second night in one place while walking the Camino de Santiago.