Tag Archives: vacation

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Beautiful Beaufort.

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The Angus drawn carriage tour of Beaufort continued…

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Past Spanish moss and charming antebellum homes.

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You might recognize this tree if you’re a movie buff.

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It’s the live oak Robert Duvall sat under during The Great Santini. They filmed it in Beaufort as the author Pat Conroy is a native son.

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Beautiful homes, beautiful gardens…

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And some of the most amazing Angel Oaks I’ve ever seen.

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The Angel is the variety of live oak that droops it’s branches to the ground….

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And in Beaufort?

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The town is so enamored of their spreading glory it’s illegal to cut one down or even trim.

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Thank you Beaufort.

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I wholeheartedly agree.

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Our guided tour was a little over an hour of immersive history and I loved every cold, wrapped in a blanket, minute of it.

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There’s a strict building code near The Point that says new construction must blend with the old. I’m not sure lime green was a popular Civil War era color, but they’re charming all the same.

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I wish we’d had time to explore this museum.

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But when we disembarked the carriage a certain someone had to strike up a conversation with the guide.

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Hint- it wasn’t me.

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Though I did enjoy a little quality time with Angus.

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He was a wonderful chauffeur.

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And deserved his treat.

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Beaufort… the old fashioned way.

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As we headed down the road for our tour of Beaufort ( say it with me now… Byoo-fert. Byoo as in beautiful, fert as in fertile. Byoo-fert. ) SC, the husband wanted a second breakfast and chose this quaint little place in Port Royal.

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Cozy, and small …

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The Old Schoolhouse didn’t take themselves too seriously.

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I’m not a big breakfast person, but since it looked like this might be lunch as well, I looked forward to some true southern biscuits and gravy. Finding that dish in Maine is a rare occurrence so I was fully prepared to splurge.

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To say I was disappointed with this (yellow… WTH?) measly batch of gravy with very little sausage (not to mention flavor) is an understatement. I was in the south…

Y’all are supposed to do this right!

Unsatisfying breakfast/lunch over, we made it to Beaufort. (Did you say Byoo-fert in your head? Good. Let’s continue. )

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Where we had tickets for a horse drawn carriage tour around the city. That white horse was in training…

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So we had Angus.

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My husband rolled his eyes when I said I wanted to do this, but after a few minutes into the historic tour? He was hooked.

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Our tour centered on The Point. The old section of Beaufort filled with beautiful Civil War era homes.

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And some quirky art.

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At the beginning of the war the savvy residents of Beaufort took part in what is now known as the Great Skedaddle.

In the panic of The Great Skedaddle of 1861—the hasty escape of white residents from Beaufort, South Carolina, six months after the start of the Civil War—anything that could not be buried or carried was abandoned. Enslaved people were left behind along with all the wealth accumulated from nearby cotton plantations: expensive furniture, horses, and clothing. When the Union Army arrived, there was only one white man left in town and he was dead drunk, or so the legend goes.

As history would have it, what drove white Beaufortonians from their homes was ultimately what saved the town they left behind. Unlike burned and battle-scarred Charleston, 50 miles to the north, the Union Army claimed Beaufort without a fight. Setting up operations in the town’s stately mansions rescued them from destruction. To this day, Beaufort has more surviving antebellum architecture than almost anywhere else in the South.

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It’s a lovely area, literally lost in time and lovingly preserved.

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That stone out front? A step for women to board carriages without displaying their ankles. Only shameless hussies flashed those.

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This wall is called pigeon hole brick and is completely original.

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The grand old homes…

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The live oaks, the moss…

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The clomp of Angus’s hooves.

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It was like being transported back 160 years.

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News you can’t use.

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And if you can use it?

I’d rather not know…

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I heartily disagree with this statement.

Someone has to drive after cocktail hour and it’s not going to be me.

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Take that Jello!

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I think the answer to this question is directly related to how much weed you’ve smoked yourself.

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Because Covid wasn’t annoying enough, let’s reawaken some Cretaceous plague. What could go wrong?

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Scotland has 790 islands.

I think this is a no brainer.

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I’m not a Swiftie, but come on people.

Chill.

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You can’t blame the guy. If anything is going to make me nauseated these days, it’s politics.

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Botany Bay birds… and yes, a few trees.

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Living in Maine, we see our share of shorebirds. But one we don’t have up here in the north is the pelican.

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I don’t know why they fascinate us, but they do.

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So bear with me while I share our pelican watching at Botany Bay.

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The low country provides ideal habitat and fishing opportunities for these guys and they take full advantage of the bounty.

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Herons as well.

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Though they often show a flagrant disregard for the rules.

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I could honestly have stayed and watched them fish all day.

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But we had reservations for a tour in Beaufort and had to get back on the road.

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Not having nearly enough time to finish exploring, we vowed to return.

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And be careful of snakes.

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Saying goodbye to the glorious oaks…

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We made our way out.

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Down that marvelous canopied road.

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Botany Bay Plantation Heritage Preserve… are you ready for some trees?

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We woke up on day 3 of vacation with a lovely pink beach sunrise.

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I have to say it’s not a bad way to start the day.

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Our first adventure found us at Botany Bay Heritage Preserve. A 4,000 acre property, open everyday and free to the public. Originally two cotton and timber plantations, it’s now a haven for wildlife and a wonderful place to explore by car, on foot or horseback.

Upon entry, it’s all about the trees.

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A mile long dirt road of nothing but glorious live oaks dripping with Spanish moss.

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In spots they form a stunning canopy…

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And it feels like you’re stepping back in time.

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When I think of the south?

This is the image I see.

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They truly are magnificent things.

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Driving the loop trail through ruins and fields, we eventually found the water.

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Where oaks gave way to palms.

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And pelicans…

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The one where we run out of daylight because my husband won’t stop talking.

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Next to the cypress wetlands was the Port Royal museum. We love small local museums run by resident volunteers and always try to support them when we can.

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This local didn’t share any history with us, but he was all about a good neck scratch.

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Not St. Augustine, Florida.

Nope. That’s a common misconception. The Spanish actually settled Port Royal first, but it was abandoned a few years later due to lack of funds.

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This museum was tiny but filled with interesting things.

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Megalodon teeth… that you can apparently scavenge for on local beaches. Sign me up!

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15 million year old clam? That too.

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The docent had absolutely no idea what this was, but I’m there for it as well.

We’d had a busy day, and since I had one more waterfront walk on the schedule for the late afternoon I tried to hurry the husband along.

I think you can guess how that went.

Just when I almost had him out the door, the lovely lady who runs the museum suggested he might want to look at some military photo albums donated by a resident.

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Yes, they were interesting.

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Filled with heart warming pics…

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As well as the horrors of war.

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Most were taken during WWII and Korea. And while I appreciated her sharing them with us, I wasn’t as thrilled with the hour long conversation that followed.

Vacation time is limited!

Schedules must be kept.

As the sun was going down, I finally dragged him out of the building and we headed for the boardwalk.

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Tiptoeing through the seagulls we made our way forward.

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It’s a popular fishing spot next to the marshes and offers a long stretch of easy walking with a viewing tower.

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Of course it was getting dark and the wind had ratcheted up to a howl which made it less than comfortable.

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We only climbed to the first level of the three level tower…

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The higher you went… the stronger and colder the winds. One quick picture and I called it good.

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The sun was setting and we needed to get back on the road.

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As you can see, our giant rental beast dwarfed all the other vehicles in the parking area.

🥴

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Good bye Port Royal…. it was swell.

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The cypress wetlands.

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After that lovely meal we were ready to walk off some poundage and in the Port Royal area there’s nowhere better than the cypress wetlands.

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The entrance is literally right in the middle of town and the boardwalks put you right in the thick of it.

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I was excited to see a gator.

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And as we started our stroll, a local woman passed by assuring us wide eyed Yankees we would see some.

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Off we went through marsh and swamp and cypress… eyes peeled for alligators.

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Not quite.

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A third of the way through? A viewing platform.

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Which the husband took full advantage of, but left reptile bereft.

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Egrets and herons were abundant.

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Yeah, yeah… so you keep saying.

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As we hit the halfway mark the trees were draped with that lovely moss so evocative of the Deep South.

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I tried for a mossy selfie but my arms aren’t long enough to capture much background.

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There were some fabulously gnarly trees above and beside us …

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And at times it felt like the forest primeval.

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How cypress grows and roots in standing water always amazes me.

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There were signs everywhere saying “Don’t Touch The Trees!”

So of course…

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There’s my husband, touching a tree.

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On the home stretch, there was a boardwalk right through the wetlands.

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With a sign about alligators.

Which was actually spot on….

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Because we finally saw one lounging on the opposite bank with a bevy of turtle friends.

Score!

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As we were leaving I spotted an unusual stationary alligator.

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He was wire framed and filled with trash.

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An excellent visual on why you shouldn’t litter.

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Cypress wetlands, a great place to stroll.

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Hushpuppie-ing my way through the south.

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After our trip to Parris Island we were hungry and headed for a delightful little town called Port Royal.

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It’s quintessentially southern with brightly colored cottages…

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And marvelous moss draped live oaks.

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It also has a seriously good waterfront restaurant called Fishshack on 11th Street.

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The views were lovely…

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And though we had planned to eat inside,

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When we saw there was an outdoor bar we changed our minds.

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A freshly muddled pineapple mojito served in a pineapple shaped glass?

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Don’t mind if I do.

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Jalapeño hushpuppies? Yes please.

Husband opted for tomato basil bisque. At this point the live music started and damn it, they were playing my song.

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Since we were in the south…

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Chicken and waffles for the husband,

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And an absolutely scrumptious shrimp burger for moi.

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In Maine a shrimp burger is just fried shrimp on a roll, this was more like a crab cake and I swear I could eat one every day.

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Any place that allows cuties like this to join you for lunch is alright with me.

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After our meal we took a walk on the pier.

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Hoping our travels would bring us back this way for another nice meal.

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😊

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Back to boot camp… part two.

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The only place on Parris Island that really sparked my husband’s memory was the parade deck.

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It was a cold and windy day but he wanted to walk the entire thing.

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The fancy grandstand wasn’t there in his day.

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But he remembers being drilled and marched until he couldn’t see straight. D.I.’s screaming, recruits passing out from the heat, being overwhelmed and overtired, getting slapped when he said yes sir.

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He swore he’d forget his mother’s name before his drill instructor’s.

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The required selfie, wind blowing so hard I had hair in my mouth.

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I walked around the Iwo Jima Statue and left the husband alone with his memories.

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Those bricks he’s looking at are memorials. Engraved with the names of fallen Marines. A lot of the boys he went through boot camp with never came back from Vietnam. I think my husband sometimes wonders why he was the lucky one…

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A while later we finished our tour of the base.

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And decided to stop at the PX for a bite to eat.

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Naturally, the food court was closed. But I was cold and wanted to buy a sweatshirt so we shopped.

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The husband really wanted this funky bottle of vodka for the man cave bar.

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We even tried to find a small box and some bubble wrap to smuggle it in his suitcase on the flight home… but no luck. The saleswoman said we could order it online but in Maine it’s illegal to mail liquor.

Boo to that.

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Moving on, the husband checked out the price of Dress Blues.

And when we passed the challenge coins? I had to laugh.

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Two full rows of Trump still for sale, while Obama and Biden were almost sold out.

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It was a good morning.

My husband always wanted to go back and I’ve always wanted to see the place he talks about with such reverence.

❤️

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Location is everything. The resort…

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Our home base for the anniversary trip was a two bedroom condo at Wyndham Ocean Ridge on Edisto ( Ed-iss-toe) Beach. Mid way between Charleston and Hilton Head…

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It’s a quiet, laid back mostly residential beach community without all the tacky water parks and touristy crap cluttering most southern coasts. It’s the undiscovered country and that’s just how we like it.

When we arrived at the resort and checked in, we were given a unit on the golf course. We travel through our timeshare so sometimes it’s a crap shoot where we’re placed. But seeing that my husband has the gift of gab and makes friends easily, we were quickly reassigned to one of the deluxe units in the best area. (Me dropping the 40th wedding anniversary bomb may have had something to do with it as well. 😉 )

If it hadn’t been January, in the height of the off season this wouldn’t have happened. The Bay Point association is the primo spot of the entire resort and people book them two years in advance.

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The peninsula itself is Edisto Beach with private homes all around. The areas in green are the resort and it was a crazy set up. One second you’re on the resort, the next you’re on a private road. As you can see by my arrow we were right at the tip on the water.

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Our condo was in the middle on the top floor, which in reality is only the second but you have to climb 4 flights of stairs to get there.

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It was clean and spacious.

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With a decided seaside decor.

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It was newly remodeled with carpet that looked like waves.

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And had a pretty sweet view from the bed.

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And speaking of views…

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One look out the balcony and I was a happy camper.

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Off season with an entire beach to ourselves. It doesn’t get much better than that.

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Second bedroom. No, we don’t use it… but if you book a two bedroom unit you get two baths and that my friends is the key to a long and happy marriage.

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Master bath. This was mine in case you were wondering.

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We settled in and unpacked.

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Very pleased with our South Carolina home for the week.

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❤️

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