| Charleston on my mind (Pt 1) |
From Cedar Island, NC, we headed south towards Charleston on route 17. We spent a rainy night in Myrtle Beach, where we caught up with two other travelers at a New York style pizza parlor. They insisted that we visit the Rooftop Bar once we arrived at our destination, to get a good view of the city. They loved Dan's Aussie accent. This is something we encountered everywhere we went: "You're Australian, aren't you?" Dan was tickled and it added to his enjoyment of his holiday.
The next day, we had hoped to take in Brookgreen Gardens and Huntington Beach, but the weather was still rainy and miserable. Oh well - that just gave us an extra day in Charleston, instead. Twist my arm!
We arrived in Charleston to book a room and had time left over to do a short tour of the city to get our bearings, and then have dinner. Our first stop was the Charleston Museum.
The museum is well worth a visit if you ever go to Charleston. A walk through it is a walk through time. Visitors learn about the early history of the settlement, early commerce (rice, of all things), plantation life and slavery, the American Civil War ... right up to modern day hurricanes. We spent three hours there, and even that felt a little rushed.
After a late lunch in a charming café where we had tuna sandwiches and clam chowder, we headed into the historic district and walked around to get our bearings. We strolled through Waterfront Park, where Dan spied the USS Yorktown on the other side of the river. Sailboats idly floated by ... it was idyllic.
Horse and carriage tour operators were everywhere, and we made plans to use one, ourselves in the coming days. In the evening, we had a wonderful seafood dinner (by now, becoming something of a theme in the Carolinas) - Southern style, which meant shrimp and cheese grits, and steamed mixed shellfish, then relaxed with cocktails in the company of other off-season travellers.
If you don't have kids, I highly recommend travelling off-season. The rates are cheaper and the pace is more relaxed. Dan and I made plans over dinner for the next two days of our stay. As it turned out, two days was just not enough...
Labels: Charleston, the South, travel |
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| Carolina in the morning |
Dan and I headed across the George Washington Bridge and down I-95 (me, with white knuckles), past the industry of Baltimore and the congestion of Washington, DC (don't ever stop for a pee break during this stretch. There's no easy on and off the highway here,) and around Richmond, until we eventually crossed over the North Carolina border. The contrast was like night and day - from heavy traffic and aggressive drivers, to wide open highways sparsely populated with cars. I was home!
We stopped for dinner at Emporia at the Carolina Barbecue, where Dan experienced pulled pork and other Carolina delicacies for the first time: corn sticks, fried chicken, cherry cobbler, lima beans, macaroni and cheese, black eyed peas ... He loved it so much, he had to speak to the owner, which made her proud. I'm guessing few people take the time to thank a restaurant owner for such an enjoyable feast. And feast, we did! I'd been looking forward to Carolina barbecue ever since we landed in Tucson, so I was quite happy that we stopped.
We spent the night in Tarboro, and early the next morning, found ourselves in the Outer Banks, at Kitty Hawk. Dan wanted to see the Wright Brothers Memorial and to learn about the first flight. We checked out the museum exhibits and Dan wanted to know why there weren't any Australians on the Wall of Fame. I had to point out to him that it was an American exhibit, but I was sure that flight enthusiasts had heard of Sir Charles Kingsford Smith, pioneer of trans-Pacific flight.
After our visit to see the Wright Brothers Memorial, we headed down the Outer Banks, past the Cape Hatteras lighthouse and caught the Hatteras Ferry to Ocracoke Island. We were going to continue our trip back to the mainland via the Ocracoke Ferry - but alas, it was not to be. You have to have a reservation for the Ocracoke Ferry, and they were booked out. What to do but spend the night on the island in a hotel and eat sea food?
We spent the night watching Dirty Jobs and Ghost Lab on the Discovery Channel with the sound of the water lulling us into pure bliss. The weather turned the next day, but it just added to the experience of being on the water - grey skies, grey sea. It was difficult to say where one ended and one began ...
Click on photos to enlarge:
Labels: Ocracoke, Outer Banks, travel |
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| Saguaro National Forest |
Saguaro cacti are apparently native only to southern Arizona, so Dan and I went off with family to Saguaro National Forest. It was a forest like I've never seen - a veritable desert garden.
I had no idea that saguaro can be well over 100 years old. Some were as tall as a three storey building. Birds dig holes in them and nest in them. But most of all - they represent the Old West to me: a sign of untamed land and the promise of adventure.
We arrived at dusk and were on the lookout for coyotes and rattlesnakes, but the only wildlife we ran across were birds and small snakes who had come out at night to warm themselves on the asphalt of the road that runs through the park. As we walked through the park, not only did we find saguaro cacti, there were cacti of many different varieties: water barrel, prickly pear, and teddy bear, to name just a few.
So, as the sun spilled its golden light over the prickly desert landscape, I couldn't help but think - "I hope no one ever falls over on these trails!"
Click on photos to enlarge:
Labels: Arizona, saguaro, travel |
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| Road trip! |
 Dan and I just returned from visiting family in the good ol' USA, and this year, we decided to be a little crazy and rent a car and drive from Arizona, to Connecticut, to South Carolina, and then back again. In between, we saw the Grand Canyon, Sedona, Tombstone, Long Island Sound, the Outer Banks, Charleston, Asheville, and Graceland. We racked up over 6,000 miles of highway driving and saw bits of disappearing America. Thank goodness for cars that average 30 miles to the gallon or more!
 In the Outer Banks of North Carolina, we rode the Ocracoke ferry and saw shoreline that hadn't changed in hundreds of years. In Charleston, where descendants of West African slaves still make sweet grass baskets like their great-great-great-great aunts did, development is destroying the sweet grass. I guess future generations could find other materials from which to make the baskets, but it's sad to think that one day this could be a lost art. I purchased a basket from a young male basket-weaver, which is a pretty rare sight. Basket weaving is traditionally a woman's art.
In Asheville, we once again stepped back in time to get to the top of Mt. Mitchell, the highest peak east of the Mississippi, in the thickest fog I can recall. I remarked to Dan that I wished I could capture the smell of balsam and Douglas fir trees with my camera. I've never been able to find an essential oil or incense that truly captures this fruity-piney smell. I look forward to Christmases with my house filled with the odor of fir tree, so I'm determined to find that elusive fragrance.
In Memphis, we visited Graceland and its surrounding exhibits. I was never a huge Elvis Presley fan growing up. By the time I was a teenager, Elvis was performing in Vegas and seemed to own the domain of middle aged women. I was more into David Bowie. Now that I'm a middle-aged woman, myself, I find myself fascinated with the world of Mr Presley - where he came from, what his values were ... and I confess that one of my guilty pleasures is to sit and watch Elvis movies. Visiting Graceland was one of the highlights of our trip.
Back in Tucson, I introduced Dan to the world of Halloween at Old Tucson. There, the old film studios are transformed into a world of zombies with haunted houses and live performances. Dan and I never laughed so much or had such a great time being "spooked."
To say that it was difficult to come back, knowing that work awaits us both tomorrow, is an understatement. I may live in Australia, but my heart is in my homeland and I can't wait to go back again. Sadly, road trips are a disappearing event in many people's lives now - with the price of fuel, concern over the environmental impact of long trips, and few people being able to take sufficient time off to "see the USA in your Chevrolet." I'm glad we did this as we may never get the chance again.
Over the next few weeks, I'll be writing about my impressions of things we did on our journey around the United States. I hope you'll come back to read about it and see the photos.Labels: Halloween, tourism, travel |
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| Travelling - now.... and then |
I remember, when I was growing up, I desperately wanted to be a flight attendant. The first time on a plane, I was ten years old and on the way to New York City with my sister and my grandmother. We dressed up in our Sunday dresses and white gloves. We flew Mohawk Airlines and held for three hours over Kennedy airport, waiting for our turn to land. The plane was hot and stuffy, but I had a window seat, so I didn't care. I stared down on Manhattan and was mesmerised. I knew I wanted to fly again and again.
The next time I flew, it was with my mother and sister and we were on our way to Hawaii. I was so excited! It was a long flight in comparison to that little hop from Syracuse to New York City. This time, it was completely across the country and half way out into the Pacific! I think we flew Pan Am. It's kind of sad to look back and realize that neither Pan Am nor Mohawk Airlines airlines exists any more.
Things have changed a lot since those days, however. Flight attendants' uniforms are less alluring and more corporate. I guess that had to happen eventually, once people moved on from seeing flight attendants as more than just glamor girls with badges. Flight attendants became responsible for flight safety and had to rule obnoxious passengers with an iron thumb. They have to help heft heavy baggage into the overhead compartments. They have to intercede in passenger disputes.
Things didn't used to be so complicated. I remember when I was a kid, flying was a privilege. Not everyone could afford to fly. For many people it was a once or twice in a lifetime thrill. I can still recall people dubbing their trips to Europe as a "once in a lifetime experience." Now I know people who fly to Europe several times a year.
When I was a kid, people knew how to behave politely on planes. Every once in a while, someone had too much to drink and got a bit loud, but the flight attendants kept that person occupied until the drunk either passed out or the plane landed. Most of the drunks were in first class, though. The rest of us managed with Pepsi or tomato juice. In my dreams of life as a grownup however, I imagined that as a flight attendant I could have first class meals and jet-set around the world and not have to worry about the passengers once the plane landed. I could see the world and get paid for it!
There used to be more leg room on flights, too. When did we all start getting squeezed in like sardines? You used to be able to put your seat back and sleep, without landing in the lap of the person behind you. I can't remember when all this started to change. And with less room to move, passengers became more cranky. We stopped wearing our nice clothes - who wants to come out of a cramped space with a wrinkled suit? We also became less friendly and less civil. We stopped tolerating people who took up more than a seat width.
When the passengers became more surly, so did the flight attendants. I recall one domestic US flight where the flight attendants all seemed angry - even though we had all just boarded the plane and there had been no incidents. It was probably because the flight had been delayed by several hours and it was now 2am. Everyone was cranky.
Now, flight attendants have to deal with cranky passengers, screaming children, and crazies trying to open the emergency exit in mid flight. And don't even get me started on "terrorists." The security screening in airports is over the top ridiculous. A million illegal aliens come into the USA every year, but grandma is having her boots checked before her flight in case she's smuggling gelignite.
We used to be able to fly into a friendly country and get a tourist visa on the spot. Now you have to apply online and declare your intentions before you leave, and even after that, you may not be let in.
Yes sir... flying has changed. I'm kind of glad I was too short to be eligible to be a flight attendant. Now, I'm just a passenger and I try to grin and bear it with everyone else, including the flight attendants.Labels: flying, travel |
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| Playing tourist |
 I love it when family or friends come to visit me from overseas. That's the time I get to roll back to my high school ambition, and play tour guide and museum docent.
When I was in middle and high school, I studied French and took a trip to France with some school mates. I fell in love with the country and didn't find anyone to be rude, as people will sometimes tell you after they get back from a trip to Paris. Mais non. I love just about everything French. I loved the trip so much, I decided that I wanted to attend school at the University of London and work overseas, sharing my wisdom with other students, as someone did with me.
Alas, it was not to be, as I couldn't figure out how to transfer my American high school credits to the university, and the entry process completely confounded me. With no high school guidance counsellor equipped to help me either, I saw my dreams sink into the mud. Everything else was a major disappointment, so I went to the cheapest school near to home that offered a tourism certificate.
As often happens, life choices can lead you far from your intended path. This doesn't mean that I've ever stopped loving to travel and sharing knowledge with others, especially if that knowledge includes cultural and historical information. This is why, when people come to visit me, I get excited. I get to play tour guide. Or rather, I get to play tourist.
Sure, I can draw up an itinerary and suggest places to stay - but the whole point in being a guide is so that you can play tourist, too. I get to share in wine tastings, go on excursions to the top of waterfalls, crawl through caves, and visit quaint historical villages, all the while, impressing my guests with my knowledge of local lore. Never mind their Birkenstocks and Bermuda shorts. We're here to have fun!
You know - even without the degree from the University of London, I feel as if I've still made it, and am doing what I've always wanted to do, (without the silly clothes.)
Now, if I could only convince more people to come out and visit.Labels: Australia, tourism, travel |
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Name: Melanie O.
Home: Durham, North Carolina, United States
About Me: Female, American health and beauty-conscious professional who has rekindled a childhood love of dolls.
See my profile...
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posted by Melanie O. at 
