To date, most of my trips down south have been on the grittier side of travel. There have been hikes in the Smokies and rural Virginia, as well as trips to Memphis and Clarksdale for delta blues, bbq, and what always feels like something slow and of the soil. This past week I took a slightly different trip to the deep south. I met up with Stacy and visited the genteel city of Savannah. Neither of us had been there before and it seemed like an easy enough getaway for an extended weekend – a walkable city with cafe charm, historic homes, and a good restaurant scene.
Unfortunately, I am neither a travel writer nor a travel photographer. I couldn’t do the city justice in either of those realms. Some things that stood out were the number of parks in the city (see the Oglethorpe Plan; also where Forrest Gump eats his chocolates), the beauty of the old homes in the historic district, the proximity to the beach (30 minute drive), the amount commerce that flows through the city (3rd busiest port in the country), and the number of little cafes (we tried one or two different cafes every day and still didn’t get to all of them). What also stood out was that for all of it’s beauty, Savannah is littered with references and monuments to the confederacy. In the middle of their largest park is a Civil War Monument (once called the Confederate Monument). This is in stark contrast to the small plots and broken tombstones of the Slaves Burials in the segregated cemetery.
We walked around a lot. Bay Street along the river, where a lot of restaurants and shops are, was about a 15 minute walk from our airbnb. The section of Bull St. south of the main park (another restaurant filled strip) was also a 10 – 15 minute walk. Our longest walk – to Laurel Grove South Cemetery (a segregated cemetery where slaves were buried) was just under 2 miles – though in the Georgia sun and humidity, in July, a 30-minute walk can feel a lot longer than that.
Tybee Island 
Laurel Grove South 
Gingerbread House 
Taco Bell 
Massive Container Ship 
Laurel Grove South 
Henny Penny Cafe
We had a Jeep for our first few days… we took a beach day on Friday and visited Tybee Island. It looked like a lot of shore towns – beach, ocean, shore shops. The water was warm and we had a good lunch with frozen drinks at a place called Fannies on the Beach. The following day we visited a nature preserve and Bonaventure Cemetery (Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil). The cemetery was impressive for its size, its Live Oaks with Spanish Moss, and the ornate headstones and statues.
I’m not sure what it is about being somewhere else, but the coffee tastes better (so does the beer), and the annoyances of daily life feel more like curious studies in how other people live. I thoroughly enjoyed Savannah (though I would have liked more live music). It seems like a great (though expensive) place to live. The food is good, the tree-lined parks are quietly majestic, and every breeze in the summer heat is a small godsend. And every night, as we made our way back to the airbnb, we passed through a small park where everything was aglow.
I consider myself to be a decent traveler. I like to plan enough to keep things interesting, I love to walk around and explore, and I like to have some down time to be present and take things in. I’m decent at navigating my way around and picking places/hotels that serve as a good base of operations. If I have one hang up, one anxiety, it’s the logistics of travel. I need to be early to places like airports and car rentals. I need to map out the geography and time for things like parking and getting gas before returning the car and getting x in so I still have time for y. The trip home tested all of that anxiety…
We got to the airport in plenty of time. It’s a small airport, everything is easy to find. We sat at a bar and had a drink. That’s when I got the notice about my flight being delayed. I was connecting through Philly and my one hour connection window shrunk to about seven minutes. Even if the gates were right next to each other, it would be tight. I went to the gate and spoke to an attendant who said the plane was there and she thought we’d be able to leave before the posted delayed time. We didn’t. The best I could hope for was an equally long delay for my second flight. I spent the next two hours trying to read, but mostly mentally preparing to run through the airport. When we landed I checked the flight status and my other plane was delayed enough that I might make it. Then we sat on the tarmac waiting for our gate to open. Ten minutes passed, then another ten. Each time I checked, both planes, the one I was on and the one I was hoping to catch, added to their respective delays. Then we got word that we couldn’t get to our scheduled gate and would be pulling up to a different one. My initial gate was 31 and the departing gate was 34…. now it was 6 and 34. There were about 9 of us trying to make various connections. We were allowed to exit first. I grabbed my bag at the end of the runway. As soon as I got in to the terminal they announced final call for my flight. I half-ran (a sort-of speedy power-walk). I arrived at my gate out of breath only to stand there looking at a closed door and eventually watching as the jet bridge pulled away from the plane. I’m guessing I missed it by about two or three minutes.
Under normal circumstances – this would be frustrating and inconvenient, but manageable. Unfortunately, prior to leaving Savannah, I had texted my dog sitter to see if she could check on my dog in the morning. She couldn’t. He’d have to wait until at least noon until I could get there. I tried to rent a car – all sold out. Hotels were mostly booked and charging premium rates (one was charging $500 for the night). There were no taxis, and Uber and Lyft were hard to find and cost twice what they normally would – there were a lot of people stranded in Philly. I spent the next hour fighting with a shitty cell signal as I tried to achieve one small victory – I didn’t care what it was: a car, a hotel room, a new flight for the next day. I even looked up what it would cost to uber the 3 hours back to State College (over $1k). Despite having touched down at around 9pm, I didn’t get to my less-than-pleasant and over-priced hotel until a little after midnight (I should have walked – it was only about a mile or two away). I then spent the next hour and a half on hold with customer service trying to re-book my flight. Prior to my original flight leaving without me, the app had the option to re-book. Once the flight left, that option disappeared. Frustrated and tired, I hung up on the muzak and booked it myself.
I went to bed around 1:30. The mattress felt lopsided and the sheets seemed clammy. It lived up to exactly what you’d expect from an airport hotel. I woke up a little before 6:00 and decided to check out and spend the morning at the airport where I could eat, send some emails canceling my day, and see about getting a flight refund. Naturally… because I booked the flight myself (I was worried I wouldn’t get a seat and impatient with the muzak), I would only get a credit for the flight I missed, not the flight I had to re-book.
I spent the better part of last night staring at a blank screen not sure what I wanted to say about this experience. I didn’t want to write about missed connections and the infuriating aspects of travel, but the crappy ending was front of mind (drama and conflict always draws more of our attention and energy than calm and pleasantness does). I was tempted to write about the complexities of so much old money being built on the backs of slaves. Sitting there with the dog by my side I was also recognizing that an unanticipated consequence of moving (twice) is the loss of any sort of local support network. This minor fiasco coming home highlighted the need for me (and Kimbrough) to befriend a neighbor who could check in on him in a pinch. In the end, I didn’t write anything and went to bed. Aside from this brief travelogue, I’m still processing the trip, the sights, the sounds – and thinking I wouldn’t mind getting back to Savannah – but maybe on a different airline.