Last week, I invited Sadie to do a guest post for us. She has written such a lovely piece that I might have to make this a regular weekly occurrence, since I can’t get over how much fun this feature is. It’s fun to spice things up and read the blog from a different perspective.
If you haven’t had the privilege of meeting Sadie yet, she’s one of my closest college friends and a proud gal from North Carolina. We were so happy to have her in town for the Bridge Run – I can’t wait to host her down here again. (All photos in the post following were taken by the sassy Southerner herself.) I used to be an avid reader of her own blog (which she sadly hasn’t updated since she last reported from Germany), so maybe after this post here we can rally to encourage the lady to return to the written word (in blog form, at least).
Two days and 5 hours ago, I was walking the streets of Charleston—a classically Southern town (for more reasons than one), and the perfect place to spend the weekend. Charleston is a great place to be for many reasons…most of them being food. Also included is the old stones lining the streets that seem to cry out in southern accents, “Hey Ya’ll, wanna hear a story?” I’ve toured through the town, gotten sauced on the pier, and jaunted over that big old bridge. In the past, Charleston has been a wonderful respite from the 4 lanes of traffic that I face every day. But it wasn’t until I had the chance to walk down a very specific set of stones on Queen Street and pass time with two friendly southerners that I really got a feel for the truly blissful nature of life in this Southern mecca.
Claire and Jamey’s abode, for all of you visitors who will be dropping by after this post, is settled back from a small, one way street. Nestled between buildings almost too old to count, and in front of graves too scary to try, this apartment was our home base for the adventures we packed into our weekend. Coming home from 6 miles (over water!) to this place was just what we needed. All afternoon, the dogwood tree by the front porch danced over their (locally) famous smoker, and the great big windows in front provided an entry for the smoky smells to entice us all afternoon.
We were hard pressed to leave this safe-haven, but the call of sweet tea vodka got us off our tuckusses. It was on to greener pastures (literally) as we drove through two (or more…I dozed a bit in the car) islands in the Charleston area. At the winery that doubled as a distillery, we helped ourselves to free wine, free dog-petting, and free views of the live oaks at the winery. Live Oaks are something magical that the Southern East Coast has been able to keep under wraps. These trees seem to constantly be reaching for more in life. They play host to many different other plants and animals that all seem to have the right idea: life under the protection of a Live Oak seems a lot like paradise to me.
As we drove farther from the world of tremendous trees and dizzying drinks, I realized how much I had learned about a city I considered one of my favorite destinations. I thought I knew Charleston well…I could find my way around and I could at least figure out where Kickin’ Chicken is. But it was then that I realized how much Claire and Jamey have introduced me to during my two visits with them. What makes somewhere a great place to visit is the people in the city. Having friends to take you over bridges and into new perspectives is what really matters about a city. I really do love Charleston, but the list of reasons why is going to need some rearranging after this trip.