Here’s me at the base of the smokestack in the railway museum. This is located at the same spot the tour bus parks, so I got in a half-day before it got too wet. It took an hour to find somebody with the right app to find a mailbox in this town (so I could mail my postcards). Other than things like that, it is one of the most beautiful cities I’ve ever seen. It survived the Civil War because Sherman needed an intact port for his supplies.I partially take back my statement that the port is not bustling. The containerized systems make it seem laid back, but it is the second busiest waterfront in the country. The rest of the city has enough history for half of Florida. Many of the houses are famous and the parks I described are every two blocks, not four. They were built as stock pens, but things could hardly have been planned better for creating unique open spaces.
Lately, a force greater than Sherman nearly flattened the city: Capitalism. But a group of ladies miffed at the demolition of a fruit market formed a restoration society just in time. Other than gaudy government buildings, most of the downtown is historical, creating an industry called “cultural tourism”. They’ve certainly proven that large-scale rejuvenation is viable. Houses that would have been torn down anywhere else now sell for “seven figures”.
There are also many replanted live oaks in most parks. It still mystifies me how they build big ships out of such crooked trees. So you’ll know, they are called “live” oaks because they are evergreens. As such they never flower. I asked the tour guide why they looked so clean, he said they try to keep away the Spanish moss. While the trees are great, the moss attracts an insect called (I think) a red chigger, which is a very unpleasant creature.
The stockyards, now parks, each have a tale or patron. One has a fountain that was mail-ordered from a New York catalog. Who recalls my blog on the Sears houses? Those kits that arrived by train and included paint and nails? Turns out Savannah is prime hunting grounds for these buildings, but the restoration has been so complete that they are a rare find.
Then came the rain. I ducked into the railroad museum to find it a little more realistic than it has to be. First, the burger was $10 and the guided tours are once a day. The staff does not mention if you miss the early shows, the admission price is still another $10. It helped get out of the rain and I now know a lot about boxcar construction. The yard is being restored and has a working roundhouse for both cars and engines. Things are a little spread out for kids and it is a workyard so keep an eye on safety.I missed the tour of what everyone wants to see, the luxury passenger cars and the car revamped for the railroad executives. My ticket is good for three days, so maybe. These railroads were nothing but glorified sweat shops. But they paid what looks like three times the national average. It was like a bank, with a few high paid executives and everybody else was a monkey. Mind you, my guess is around 10% of the jobs were clean indoor positions, like ticket and telegraph clerks. But the repair sheds resembled an iron foundry with that great work atmosphere.
A theater called “Lucas” got me interested until I got the wild goose chase trying to find out the ticket prices. Not a good plan, Lucas. These days all tourism is price-driven. I could have waited for the box office to open in an hour but the rain got steady and I’m home with the coffee. Since I know the guys want to hear about women, I’ll say again, there weren’t any. There never are. The type of women we all like to meet don’t travel to meet guys. They don’t need to. So no, nothing there today.
I changed my early plan to take the boat ride after enough people told me it was not worth it. Other than the waterfront shops, about a mile of bars and summer clothes, they say there is nothing else. I was going to get indoors to the theater. But I was home and dry before I found their prices were a reasonable $25 to $49. Lucas, if your price had been visible from the street, I’d be there tonight.
ADDENDUM
Unbeknownst to me till now, this is the first big week of tourist season in Savannah. I awoke to a cool morning as I have not in years. That crisp frosty air we don’t get in south Florida. I walked around the motel courtyard remembering the late fall on the prairies, where the frost stayed a little longer after each sunrise until it never left. Then came a mini-blizzard and it was winter. Some folks like that, I’m told.
It turns out my first-day motorcycle tour hit most of the high spots. Maybe I’ve developed a sixth sense of travel, but I seem to have naturally stopped at the fancy places and skipped the dives. You know, it is more exciting to take the motorcycle for runs into the surrounding areas and across bridges. The view from bridge-top is fantastic because there are no hills in the deep south. With the motorcycle, you can stop anywhere you please, but be cautioned that long-distance travel of this sort is not for everybody.
