Day 13 – Charleston again

We were under no time pressure for a change this morning so we had a leisurely morning and caught up with some laundry before taking the taxi into town. It was the same driver so we got another fascinating historical commentary as we travelled. This was really useful as he pointed out to us the various places that were worth a visit.

It was a baking hot day again and after walking down to the waterfront we were badly in need of refreshment so we repaired to the Lagunitas bar again. As we walked along, people watching, Mark repeated his long-held belief that shorts should only be provided to men over 50 on prescription. I have to say that we saw many examples to support that hypothesis. Once we got to Lagunitas,  one pint inevitably led to another, and another, and then we then staggered off to have a wander through the old streets and visit the museum. 

There was a real sense of history in the old part of town which we have rarely encountered in other towns, apart from Boston. There are lots of fascinating old buildings from back when South Carolina was the most prosperous British colony in North America. There appeared however to be some reticence to acknowledge the fact that much of that prosperity seems to have been based on slavery. It was shocking to realise that public slave auctions were held here as comparatively recently as the 1850s. 

The museum that we visited is housed in what is called the Provost House as it was the headquarters of the British military Provost Marshall during the War of Independence. It was originally the Exchange Building, where goods were traded and stored, and once hosted a visit by George Washington amongst others. We were taken round by guides dressed in period costume and visited the cellars where the British had kept their prisoners during the war. I also managed to get a rare picture  of Mark writing to the folks back home.

One building had a plaque on it commemorating a visit by Gerald Ford in the 1970s and it was striking, in the light of recent events, to remember that there was a time when people had thought that he had seemed like an unwise choice for President!

We noticed a few tours passing by on horse drawn wagons. We had to admire the courage of the people sitting up there in this sort of heat with a horse farting continuously in their faces.

Our favourite taxi driver picked us up again in town and took us back to the hotel. After I called him he promised to be with us in 6-8 minutes and for the first time was a little late (maybe 5 minutes or so). To our surprise, when we got back to the hotel he initially refused to take payment on account of him having been late. It was quite a struggle to get him to accept our money. On the way back, after some hair-raising stories about idiots on the freeway he confessed to owning a motorcycle. We didn’t bother to ask what sort as it was all too obvious. He said he mainly used it for riding round the town and we shamefacedly realised that he is exactly the sort of person we have made rude remarks about on more occasions than we choose to remember. 

After a short break to shower and change and generally recover at the hotel, we settle off downtown again. Our taxi driver hadn’t had any other calls so had been sitting in the hotel lobby since he’d dropped us off. We went back into the same area of town and ate yet more seafood. The only notable features were that I had grits (which is a sort of porridge) with my prawns and Mark’s balls weren’t coated in sugar this time. After that we stopped off at Lagunitas for a last drink and listened to the live music that they had on.

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Then it was back in the same taxi for the trip to the hotel. It was quite sad to say goodbye to the driver (who’s also called Mark – or maybe Marc) and have him look me in the eye and say with apparent sincerity, “You come back and see us again”. In truth Charleston is one of the nicest places we have stayed at on our American travels and would certainly be worth a return visit some time.