We set off from Milledgeville about 10.20 and let the satnav direct us (or Mr Hagleshaw – whom it continues to believe us to be) to Charleston. It seemed to want to take us by the interstate highways, which is not the shortest way but is probably the quickest. We rolled along perfectly happily listening to 106.3 again and then, when we lost that, picking up something that had “Oldies” in its title. Whether it was a station for oldies or that it played oldies wasn’t entirely clear but either way it seemed to work for us.
As usual there were lots of trees to look at and more churches than one might have thought strictly necessary, while the houses ranged from grand mansion-style places to little shacks by the side of the road. We also passed by some curious place names such as “Somewhere” and “Rattlesnake Crossing”. Rattlesnakes are indigenous to parts of North Carolina so perhaps that’s where they cross the road. We also spotted the deceased armadillo-of-the-day about 80 miles out from Milledgeville around where we crossed the Savannah River into North Carolina. We stopped to refuel the car and ourselves at a distinctly unfriendly gas station and Subway just past Augusta.
As we approached Charleston on the freeway the traffic started to get heavy and it got steadily worse the closer we got to our destination. However we were managed to find the hotel without too much trouble and checked in at about 3.45. There’s a lot of construction work going on in the area and it’s very noisy, to the extent that the hotel is offering complimentary earplugs! Our window on the 7th floor looks directly out onto the site but just beyond that we can see the river and a yacht basin on the waterfront. The photo on the left below was taken with a telephoto lens pointed just to the right of the right-hand crane in the second picture and is no doubt the one that the hotel would prefer to use in its publicity brochure.
At the hotel we paused to unpack, recharge electronic devices and connect to the wifi. Possibly because we are up on the 7th floor the connection is a bit iffy and the only network available at one point was listed as “Schnibbe’s iphone” (I’m assuming Schnibbe may be an associate of Hagelshaw). We then wandered down and asked the hotel to get us a taxi into downtown Charleston. The taxi arrived promptly, driven by what appeared to be the lost member of ZZ Top. He turned out to be a really interesting and informative character who gave us a running commentary as we drove in. He actually recommended a British pub where they reputedly serve the best fish and chips outside the UK. He also pointed out an intersection called the Four Corners of Justice (or Law) which has a church, the City Hall, the County Courthouse and the Post Office and Federal Courthouse on each corner. The saying goes that at least one of them will get you eventually!
We got dropped on Queen Street near the sea front, where there are plenty of bars and restaurants. We opted to start at a place called Lagunitas that has its own brewery as a visible presence on the premises. We drank a very agreeable couple of (American) pints of the local brews before (surprisingly) moving on to an oyster house. I had two pilsners while Mark’s second pint, which was served in what appeared to be a jam jar, apparently had the pleasantly grapefruity afternotes of an IPA.
For the meal I started with a raw oyster shooter (a shot glass containing an oyster, a measure of vodka, some Tabasco sauce and some mysterious green liquid) followed by southern fried oysters and then a couple of shrimp tacos. Mark went for a dozen raw oysters followed by the oyster platter (the more observant of you may have noticed a theme developing there). Mark also ordered a side of quinoa that he didn’t really want, just to check how it was pronounced over here. This was all very delicious apart from the oyster platter which consisted of some battered oysters, some garnish, some crisps, and some undefined spherical objects that had been dusted with icing sugar. Apparently Mark thought the oysters were OK but his sugared balls didn’t really hit the spot.
After that we walked the short distance back to Lagunitas and got another beer while I called the taxi guy to pick us up. He arrived dead on time again and got us back to the hotel, again giving us a commentary on local history as he went. As he dropped us off he told us that his family had been French Huegenots who had fled to England to escape persecution and had been resettled in the Carolinas, so he felt a sense of gratitude to the English Crown although his ancestors had been quite happy to kick the Brits out when we’d overstayed our welcome!
Tomorrow we’re not driving anywhere and we’re planning to have a gentle stroll round Charleston and see the sights.
Over the Hill and Far Away.......... 
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