Tag Archives: SC

And Charleston said, let there be a rainbow.

.

You can’t visit Charleston without strolling the French Quarter’s Rainbow Row.

.

.

Rainbow Row represents the longest cluster of intact Georgian row houses in the United States. The earliest structures on this portion of East Bay Street, between Tradd and Elliott Street, were built by-1680. The buildings were constructed on lots 7 to 10 of the Grand Modell, a city plan developed between 1670-1680.
Over the years, the buildings served as the shops and residences of notable merchants and planters, and fronted a cluster of wharves on the Cooper River waterfront. The buildings also fronted a segment of the eastern boundary of the fortification wall constructed circa 1704 to surround the city.
Some of the houses were damaged or destroyed by fire, and the present structures date from circa 1720 to circa 1790. The homes suffered slight damage by Union artillery bombardment during the War between the States. After the war and decades of neglect, the buildings deteriorated into slums. Susan Pringle Frost, founder of the Society for the Preservation of Old Dwellings, now the Preservation Society of Charleston, began her important preservation and rehabilitation efforts by purchasing some of these properties in the 1920s in order to prevent their demolition. The name Rainbow Row was coined after the pastel colors they were painted as they were restored in the 1930s and 1940s. The rear facades and gardens of 93-101 East Bay were also used as a model for the original 1935 stage setting of George Gershwin and DuBose Heyward’s opera, Porgy and Bess.
.

.

In a word? Fabulous.

.

.

The colors, the wrought iron, the charm…

.

.

It’s selfie heaven even if your arms are too short to capture much background.

.

.

Space is at a premium but all the homeowners take pride of place.

.

.

History?

It’s got that too.

.

.

It’s hard to imagine this lovely neighborhood ever being a slum.

.

.

Peek through the iron gates when you’re there.

.

.

Take your time.

.

.

And enjoy.

.

.

We did.

.

Where we go to Hunting Island but don’t hunt.

.

We’d heard quite a few locals mention Hunting Island lighthouse (which is the only lighthouse in South Carolina open to the public) and since we were in the area, we decided to check it out.

.

.

Paying the unexpected entry fee at the gate, we drove down the twisting, turning road.

.

.

It felt a bit like the forest primeval with dense vegetation and palms lining both sides.

.

.

At the end there was a parking lot and our first glimpse of the lighthouse.

.

.

The views of the Sea Islands were supposed to be great from the top and I was anxious to climb.

.

.

We approached…

.

.

Entered the gated area….

.

.

Took the required wind blown selfie…

.

.

And after climbing the entry steps to the door… read the sign saying it was closed.

Of course it was.

Thank you Mr. Gatekeeper for taking our money but not sharing that fact. Grr. 😡

Was it worth the $20? Sure.

.

.

See there? That used to be the light keeper’s house.

.

.

And my husband found a fascinating rail contraption used to move the lamp oil.

Totally worth it.

.

.

🥴

.

If you’ve never been gobsmacked when you walked into a restaurant, then you’ve never been to Johnson Creek Tavern.

.

After our horse drawn carriage tour of Beaufort…(did you say Byoo-fert like I taught you?)

.

.

We strolled along the harbor for a spell.

.

.

Then headed over the bridge to explore the Sea Islands.

.

.

Since the husband was hungry we stopped for a late lunch. Not much was open this time of year but we found a spot on the marsh called Johnson Creek Tavern.

.

.

It was an unassuming little place, and while I don’t know exactly what I was expecting…

.

.

It definitely wasn’t this.

.

.

Every square inch of the place was covered in money.

.

.

Yes, as in real U.S. currency. Ones, fives and tens. Most had names or funny sayings written on the face.

.

.

One bad margarita….

.

.

Some run of the mill hushpuppies with, oh the horror, margarine …

.

.

And a terrible bowl of gumbo later, we decided we wouldn’t be eating lunch here… but we did marvel at the decor and inquire about its origins.

.

.

It started at the bar decades ago as these things do. The first dollar spent, a big tip, a foreign bill brought back from faraway lands. But then it grew…

.

.

And grew and grew.

.

.

Now… they harvest the bounty every so often and donate it all to charity. Last year a veterans group was the happy recipient of over $11,000.

.

.

And that’s money well spent.

.

.

The flamingo agrees.

.