Downtown Charleston

The day dawns - not foggy!  And a forecasted high of 78, and lower humidity.  So, shorts and a tank top, pack everything in my new camera gear knapsack that I need for the day, and hop in the hotel shuttle (that way I don't have to find parking, and it's free).  The shuttle drops the passengers at the Market, which looks very interesting. The market is open till 5, the horse-drawn carriage tours are only available till 4 and book up quickly, and the hotel shuttle runs till 9:30, so I decide to walk around a bit, then get a carriage ride, then walk some more, eat, drink and be merry blah blah blah.

Map in hand (yup, doing it the old-fashioned way) I make my way down Market St., and find the carriage company that had been recommended by the hotel.  Ride booked for 2:30, so I have a couple of hours to explore and have some lunch.  Walking down Meeting St., and I spot what looks to be a great place for lunch.

And I get a spot at the chef's table - perfect.  The menu looks fantastic and it takes me a while to decide on the blue crab salad plate, with a pear and ginger sangria (yes, it was even better than it sounds).  Starting with warm, real southern cornbread served with soft butter, it just kept getting better.  

After this, I wandered for about an hour through the French quarter, hoping that the guide on the carriage ride would explain some of what I was seeing.  When I got to the barn for the tour, I asked if I could be seated at the side or the front so that I could get lots of pictures.  (Single person advantage - almost always get the best seats because it's easy to fit in).  Yup, got a front seat at the end.  Perfect.  And I am now officially in love with Charleston.  Not just the historical and beautiful architecture, the southern charm, but the smells of southern spruce and whatever flower it is (magnolia?) that gently touches your senses and then disappears, leaving you wanting more.  The quiet streets, the gracious grandeur, the way complete strangers nod and say "har ya doin'?" when they pass you.  This is definitely a place I could become very accustomed to.  Charleston, I don't think I'm done with you yet.  

   

  

After the carriage ride, the market beckons.  According to the carriage driver, it used to be a slave's market - where the slaves would come and buy things, not where the slaves were sold.  Although almost everything in it can be found elsewhere, the sweet grass hand-woven baskets, from a West African tradition, are beautiful, and this is the only place you can get them.  After watching a couple of people making them, and seeing the craftsmanship, I pick one out, bargain with the vendor for almost half off, and tuck it away.  

Supper is beef chimichangas in a little Mexican restaurant that has mostly Mexicans as patrons, and it's quite good and not too filling.  But it's a little noisy, so off to a rooftop bar for a mint julep and to browse through the photos I've taken today - boy do I ever need a lot of practice! - and rest my somewhat tired feet.  Then it's back to the hotel to rest up.

Tomorrow the weather is supposed to get cooler, so I'm off to warmer climes.  It's supposed to be sunny and warm in Daytona Beach, hopefully I can get a decent room for not too much moolah.