Heading north means the vacation is ending. Each gas station we stop at proves that as we open the car door and realize that sandals are no longer proper attire.
Quick recap. We went to "Southern Nights" which is like a southern version of Glee. We were the youngest people there by at least 40 years. All of the other attendees arrived by tour buses and were led by group leaders carrying flags on tall poles. I was incredulous at first but actually loved it. Show choir is a secret love of mine.
We spent our last day in Savannah (Thursday) by walking around taking pictures of the houses to prove we had been there. Mom did overhear a conversation that the hostel may be closing. Anyone out there interested in buying it and hiring some Coopers to help run it and renovate it?
Today as we were leaving the hostel Anne-Marie and I were chatting about how it would be nice to get a picture of "Brian" to add to this blog. I was in the middle of suggesting that we might secretly get a paparazzi style picture of him when we heard "hello ladies!" There was Brian looking down at us from the top of the front steps. Creepy. He has a very eerie knack of always being around and showing up out of thin air. We hope he didn't hear what we were saying, but we DID happen to catch him in the background of one of our pictures which I will upload later.
I will be back in Des Moines on Sunday, so unless something unbelievable happens, I won't be writing any more travel blog. Upcoming entries will be back to my crafting. :)
Showing posts with label Savanah Georgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Savanah Georgia. Show all posts
Friday, March 26, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Of peach paint
In an effort to feel what the weather is most often like in Savannah, I took a run. I now feel like I am in a cloud of humidity and 110 degree weather. This is only my second attempt at running since November. Whenver I am on vacation with my family we must go out running. For the majority of my family members this is an enjoyable experience. For me, it is a reminder that my appearance of athleticism is only that, appearance.
Yesterday has provided me with a bakers dozen of possible stories to tell. Currently I am without my co-conspirators to narrow down the choices.
We finally managed to do a truly relaxing thing on our vacation; go to the beach. When I conjure up visions of vacation in my mind, they often involve a lot of reading and sitting in one place. I am what some people think of as a lazy traveler. To me what is most appealing is to enjoy absorbing my surroundings. I am fine going overseas for a week and staying in the same city. There is nothing more stressful than rushing about from place to place gather glimpses that won't sink in my memory. My memory is similar to a cup of tea, it needs to be steeped slowly in its surroundings.
Tybee Island is similar to all vacation beaches I have ever visited; dirty, dingy and drab. However (if anyone from Savannah is reading this post, hold on a moment), once you arrive at the ocean its unbelievably beautiful. I love the vast expanse of blue, the soft sand, breeze and sun glazing your skin (in my case searing it). I think it is the concept of limited choices of things to do on the beach is great! It makes me feel less guilty for spending the day reading. The only bit of dirt that marred the landscape was the disgusting 30 year old men who decided to set up shop right beside us and spend their time swearing loudly and bragging about throwing people through glass tables. In silent protest we moved our chairs down the beach.
Well, I am limited on time currently. So I will have to tell you about "Southern Nights" at the historic Savannah theater another time. I'm sure that all of you (1-2 people who may happen to read this) are disappointed. But more to come!
Yesterday has provided me with a bakers dozen of possible stories to tell. Currently I am without my co-conspirators to narrow down the choices.
We finally managed to do a truly relaxing thing on our vacation; go to the beach. When I conjure up visions of vacation in my mind, they often involve a lot of reading and sitting in one place. I am what some people think of as a lazy traveler. To me what is most appealing is to enjoy absorbing my surroundings. I am fine going overseas for a week and staying in the same city. There is nothing more stressful than rushing about from place to place gather glimpses that won't sink in my memory. My memory is similar to a cup of tea, it needs to be steeped slowly in its surroundings.
Tybee Island is similar to all vacation beaches I have ever visited; dirty, dingy and drab. However (if anyone from Savannah is reading this post, hold on a moment), once you arrive at the ocean its unbelievably beautiful. I love the vast expanse of blue, the soft sand, breeze and sun glazing your skin (in my case searing it). I think it is the concept of limited choices of things to do on the beach is great! It makes me feel less guilty for spending the day reading. The only bit of dirt that marred the landscape was the disgusting 30 year old men who decided to set up shop right beside us and spend their time swearing loudly and bragging about throwing people through glass tables. In silent protest we moved our chairs down the beach.
Well, I am limited on time currently. So I will have to tell you about "Southern Nights" at the historic Savannah theater another time. I'm sure that all of you (1-2 people who may happen to read this) are disappointed. But more to come!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Nancy (Deborah) Drew and the Case of the Missing Key
One of her more notorious traits is her penchant for losing keys. She goes through this routine at least 5 times a day. (Interjection, mom would like to note that she does not actually lose her keys, so that I should phrase it that she is "good at thinking she has lost her keys"). Tonight for example we had all piled out of the car to visit our cousin Anna. Mom had been driving. We came back to the car and found all of the car doors locked. Mom went quickly into fight or flight mode (this also happens when her cell phone rings). What this involves is 1) eyes dart open wildly 2) her body stiffens 3) hands shoot out and then she franticly pats all of her pockets and rehearses all of the places she might have used or had her keys in the past 24 hours. At this point Anne-Marie and myself once again admonish a potential set location that her keys should always be stored. We look forward to this happening again tomorrow.
We've decided to add "nervous" to the list of adjectives describing our current land lord.
Mom set on a pot of water for an evening cup of tea and left it unattended for about 30seconds to run to the bathroom. Instantly there was a rap on the door. "Brian" warned us that the fire department had visited the establishment in the past for such offenses. Apologies were exchanged.
What we were most curious about was what he was doing in our building which is unattached from the main house where he lives. An eerie feeling of "Big Brother" keeps us on our toes now. Mom has noted that "lurking" should be added to the list of adjectives.
I sign off until tomorrow's noteworthy occurrences.
On the Road again: Southern Sunshine
I am sitting in one of the parlors of the "Savannah Pensione" after an afternoon of purusing shops and cobblestoned streets. Its spring break season so there are a lot college students around the city for the annual ultimate frisbee tournaments. That is what brought me to Georgia for the first time several years ago. This year our location was chosen by driving distance. Anything under twenty hours is feasible in the Cooper family. Just pop in a book on tape (this year it is "Johnny Tremain") and let the hum of the highway miles lull you to sleep on your shift off from being the driver.
Now I must interject some news on the weather, as is customary in all travel entries. It is sunny here but cool and crisp overall. Spring is just nudging the winter out of its way. There is a cool breeze that lifts your skirt, which leggings keep from being a disasterous occurence. The sun squares along would be enough to keep me in this city. They peek through the tree branches dripping with moss.
Today we visited the Savannah College of Art and Design, where our cousin Anna works. I have a nerdy love of college campuses so was eager to see the layout of the art school. But there is no true campus. Instead a series of buildings scattered througout the city. The buidlings are all individually lovely, but I still love having acres of building surrounding private green lawns and squares. The "shopSCAD" was inspiring. Apparently students and alumni from the school create works to sell at this little shop. It's not high-brow art, but instead hand crafted works like fabric picture frames, purses, shirts, and all kinds of ingenious small pieces. I was encouraged to find that some of the things I make (and have shown on my blog) would fit in well there.
I must say more about the hostel we are staying at. As I have started to travel more, I have discovered that the "staying" in as important as traveling." Now in other countries, hostels are a cheaper option. In the states they are often individually cheaper but if you're with a group are as expensive. You do get access to a kitchen though.
The Savannah Pensione is the only hostel in Savannah. It's a beautiful old house built in 1884. You can see the picture I included. We are staying in the carriage house in the back. All the floors are wood and there are massive windows everyone where with staircases and porches. It doesn't take much to imagine southern belles in massive dresses waltzing about. The building is in an overall state of disrepair. It has lent us to much imagining about how we would transform the building. Oh how I would love to get an old house to fix up!
The owner of the house is a mysterious man. My sister and I have decided that we would use the words demure, reticent and listless to describe him. However these words seems a bit overboard when you find his name is simply Brian. Unless it is Walther Brian Kensington III. We each made up stories about why he seems so sad. My story involved him being the lower middle child of a family of 10, forced to withdraw into himself by a verbally abusive stressed out mother. Anne-Marie's story invovled the disappointing end of a high profile career that left him in a CIA witness protection program. Either way it is quite adventurous.
Well, enough writing for now. Tonight we dine. Tomorrow we go to the beach. Sometime this week we put the cherry on the top by visiting local thrifting establishments. It shall be grand!
More to come...
Now I must interject some news on the weather, as is customary in all travel entries. It is sunny here but cool and crisp overall. Spring is just nudging the winter out of its way. There is a cool breeze that lifts your skirt, which leggings keep from being a disasterous occurence. The sun squares along would be enough to keep me in this city. They peek through the tree branches dripping with moss.
Today we visited the Savannah College of Art and Design, where our cousin Anna works. I have a nerdy love of college campuses so was eager to see the layout of the art school. But there is no true campus. Instead a series of buildings scattered througout the city. The buidlings are all individually lovely, but I still love having acres of building surrounding private green lawns and squares. The "shopSCAD" was inspiring. Apparently students and alumni from the school create works to sell at this little shop. It's not high-brow art, but instead hand crafted works like fabric picture frames, purses, shirts, and all kinds of ingenious small pieces. I was encouraged to find that some of the things I make (and have shown on my blog) would fit in well there.
The Savannah Pensione is the only hostel in Savannah. It's a beautiful old house built in 1884. You can see the picture I included. We are staying in the carriage house in the back. All the floors are wood and there are massive windows everyone where with staircases and porches. It doesn't take much to imagine southern belles in massive dresses waltzing about. The building is in an overall state of disrepair. It has lent us to much imagining about how we would transform the building. Oh how I would love to get an old house to fix up!
The owner of the house is a mysterious man. My sister and I have decided that we would use the words demure, reticent and listless to describe him. However these words seems a bit overboard when you find his name is simply Brian. Unless it is Walther Brian Kensington III. We each made up stories about why he seems so sad. My story involved him being the lower middle child of a family of 10, forced to withdraw into himself by a verbally abusive stressed out mother. Anne-Marie's story invovled the disappointing end of a high profile career that left him in a CIA witness protection program. Either way it is quite adventurous.
Well, enough writing for now. Tonight we dine. Tomorrow we go to the beach. Sometime this week we put the cherry on the top by visiting local thrifting establishments. It shall be grand!
More to come...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)