Chaaaleston

Y’all, I have been the laziest today. After Hope and Allie left at lunchtime, I collapsed into full-on spring-break-at-the-grandparents mode. (aka watching tv and reading, that is all. Although we did ride bikes and walk on the beach and spy a gator earlier today, so I really did already do stuff, I promise.) Because of this, my brain is not cooperating with me, but I promised to tell you about Charleston so I am going to try and do just that.

Here’s the thing about Charleston: it is old Southern charm and hospitality through and through. It’s not just one postcard-perfect street that gives way to a typical grimy downtown, nor just a modern town masquerading as antebellum. No, it is street after palmetto-lined street of genteel two-story, balconied Charleston houses and wrought iron and ivy. It’s parks and porch swings on the waterfront, and spires and cemeteries lining King Street. It’s shopping on King Street and sweet grass baskets for sale at the market. And really, it’s enough to just be there, soaking it in, meandering through the grid of streets and pointing out which houses we wished were ours.

We drove just over two hours to get there (and may or may not have made a last minute U-turn midway to stop at this place:

                                                                               ...I mean, wouldn’t you?)

And here’s what we did once we were there:

- Wandered through the old market, trying to resist buying pashminas

- Had fancy sandwiches at a place called Caviar & Bananas, right next to C of C (which, by the way, would probably be the school I would transfer to if I was ever going to transfer. Just because then I could live here.) Anyway, my sandwich was barbecue duck (seriously), cheddar cheese, jalepeños, roasted shallots, some sort of sauce, and all sorts of goodness:

- Shopped on King Street (they just put in a Forever 21, we had to go. And Allie got these nifty zebra shoes.) and revived with some Starbs

- Explored the St. Philips graveyard. It’s split into two parts on either side of the street – only people born in Charleston were allowed to be buried on the side the church is on. There’s a legend of one man being exhumed from his grave and moved across the street because he wasn’t born in Charleston. (PJ told us this story at dinner the night before.)

- Walked to the waterfront, almost got blown away by the wind out on the pier, spied Fort Sumter across the water

- Searched out Rainbow Row. (...but I already showed you that.) One of the houses was for sale, though, just saying.

- Stopped by the Citadel on our way out of the city (Hope’s dad went there so we had to get a token picture for him, of course.)

…And that’s all. We weren’t even there for as long as we had planned (we even made it back to Hilton Head for MK’s dinner. Yesss.) but it was charming and perfect nonetheless.

Oh Charleston. I love you because you are genuine and beautiful. If you were a person, I would probably want to be you. Or at least have a crush on you.


[All photo cred - or at least camera cred - goes to Allie MacDonald. For real, I feel so spoiled to have all these beautiful pictures now to share with y'all. I think I'm just going to have to get her to follow me around and document my life on a regular basis...]