Journalist By Nature: Savannah Spring Sprint

The beeping alarm jarred me awake mid-sleep cycle. Groaning to my feet I sleepily repeated my morning routine and stumbled out the door at half past dark to meet awaiting neighbors for a ride to the airport. With traffic almost non-existent we half expected the airport to be likewise. The traffic jam at the departure curb was the first clue that we had entered the world of mass travel heading east. Lines, lines, lines. There was no escaping them. At the security check point no uniformed TSA personnel made eye contact. Just paper and luggage checks. Here's a different take on security.

A rosy sunrise provided a lovely backdrop for the snowcapped mountains in the Cascade Range. Seven hours and two planes later we arrived on the east coast where it was warm, dry and still some daylight left. Our hostess daughter had arranged everything for our comfort and satisfaction as we wiled away the evening and awaited the early morning start south. A Virginia sunset closed the first day of our spring sprint.

A bright, sunny morning greeted us as we grappled with the three hour time difference, but with yesterday's early rising, today's was pretty similar if you didn't look at a clock. Trees in this mid-east coast area were just beginning to leaf out. There were few flowering shrubs, such as azaleas, but bulbs were making a brave show. The typical brick and white-columned houses and apartments stand shoulder to shoulder here, tiny yards sporting various plant selections, on-street parking clogging the streets.

Heading south, the land is extremely flat and actually below sea level in many places. This makes for interesting drainage issues when the rain storms blow through and flood the streets. Galoshes are a must have survival fashion item. Double lanes of cement ribbon lay over the flat terrain and through the forests of pine and southern deciduous trees. There is little variation in height or direction of I-95, the main interstate highway. Cruise control is handy on this trip! The lanes heading north are teeming with trucks hauling all manner of goods from the ports of Savannah and Charleston, two of the largest shipping ports on the east coast. Trailer-like cement block and brick houses along with an occasional old farmhouse sporadically line the highway, stationed near the streaming traffic so that the backyards remain large and private. White-framed windows are the simple adornment of these homes, the poverty apparent in the condition of the structures.

An unremarkable eight hour drive brought us to the tourist sector of Savannah, Georgia. All those tourist brochure pictures were suddenly three dimensional as we made our way to The Olde Pink House restaurant for our first southern dinner. Entering this historic house was a bit like stepping back in time, all the way to Thomas Jefferson's era. He was best friends with the owner, James Habersham, and even designed a dumb waiter for the house as well as the wine vault in the basement. Southern hospitality, charm and drawl met us at the door and enveloped us as we made out way up a curving staircase to the master bedroom, now a dining area. The rich aubergine walls, family portraits, wall sconces and original wood plank floors drew my thoughts to the lifestyle of early southern settlers. The large number of slaves in this area made a luxurious life possible for the wealthy when there was no indoor plumbing or electricity and all food was made from scratch and laundry done by hand.

We ventured into southern cuisine by starting with their famous sweet biscuits and sweet iced tea. An entree of sweet potato ravioli, topped with pecan cream sauce and oyster mushrooms in a balsamic reduction sauce opened my eyes to new cooking directions. Shrimp and cheesy grits, fried green tomatoes, and quail on bacon-garlic mashed potatoes added to the dining excellence. You can't eat it all in one meal so we saved ourselves for another day to sample more dishes.

Driving through old town Savannah we discovered the many park-like squares that were designed to be centered in neighborhoods. These green spaces, as they would be called today, were for community gatherings, laundry days, playgrounds and farmers' markets. Today they are stately blocks with statues of heros and plaques proclaiming battles, significant happenings and historical events. The South, as we were beginning to realize, is steeped in its history, lives in it and keeps it alive.

Closing out the day, we found RC colas and Moon Pies awaiting us in our motel room. These are apparently traditional southern treats. In the event that you aren't familiar with the cookie, it is a sandwich of graham cracker circles with a marshmallow filling surrounded by a chocolate coating. Other flavors are available. We felt we had been sweetened enough for one day so left them for another guest to enjoy. Tomorrow we'll explore historic Savannah. G'night y'all!