Last summer we vacationed in Savannah, Georgia with our Houstonian friends, Juliet and Mark. Every six months we get together in a new locale; this time it was Savannah. Southern Living magazine had run an article replete with photos, of Savannah, which sold me on the idea of converging in Savannah. Juliet, a long-time, intrepid Girl Scout Leader, had her heart set on two things: Visiting the founder of the Girl Scouts’ Juliette Gordon Low home, and dining at Paula Deene’s The Lady & Sons. My wishes included taking in the Savannah College of Art and Design [SCAD], the squares, architecture, Mercer-Williams House, and Bonaventure Cemetery, immortalized in John Berendt’s book Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. But mostly, I wanted to soak up the richness of the language variety of Savannah. Through my years of living in Houston and my travels in the South, I fell in love with the people and the wealth of linguistic variety and principles of Southern Hospitality.
Savannah answered our desires in spades. We hopped on an Old Town Trolley Tour to get the lay of Savannah’s Historic District. We toured historic homes, a number of which were restored by the late Jim Williams [read the aforementioned book to learn how vital he was in the restoration of historic homes in Savannah]. We stayed at the Avia Hotel in the Historic District. We dined at fabulous locales like The Olde Pink House [Low Country], Circa 1875 [French], and at The Lady & Sons [heavy on the fried chicken] on Mother’s Day. Goose Feathers served up breakfast with tantalizing quiches and more Low Country cooking [no complaints on my end].
After meandering in those irresistible squares with their gnarled trees dripping Spanish moss, we wandered over to The Paris Market. We shopped at the Savannah Bee Company Honey House [honey, honey in everything, even the soap], Nourish [all natural body products], and art shops [teeming with art by talented SCAD graduates]. After lingering over scoops of ice cream at Leopold’s Ice Cream [rose petal and lavender were our favorites], we took a horse drawn carriage ride at night. Our driver peppered the tour with anecdotes, both racy and humorous. Savannah does have a most colorful past [read Berendt’s book]. Hunger pangs struck again. That night we washed down mussels and pasta entrees with wine at Garibaldi’s Café. The mirrored walls reminded me of Le Grand Vefour in Paris where we also relished steamed mussels. Garibaldi’s fresh Italian fare was tasty, to say the least, and even reminded us of a Venetian palazzo.
All too soon our voyage ended. We will return one day, Savannah, for you captured our hearts, mon amour.
Ciao for now.