Seeing the beautiful sunshine and bright blue sky, I make the mistake of sticking my nose outside the door – it almost turns blue in the howling, freezing cold wind.
We were going out today for our last day in Charleston but once Mike realises how cold it is he flatly refuses to leave the boat and by early afternoon I can’t stand being cooped up inside anymore waiting for the wind to die down and I decide to get the shuttle bus into town to trundle around by myself.
Away from the marina it is much warmer and I strip off one of my three layers. I have a great time just strolling through the markets again. I stop to look time and time again at the sweetgrass baskets but even though I know how much work is involved in making them, I just don’t like them enough to contemplate spending that sort of money. I do chat to some of the ladies making them though. Odele is especially nice and lets me take her photo.
Photos: Odele and the sweetgrass baskets
Photo: Charleston is a town full of horse-drawn carriage tours
Photo: The market entrance
Horse-dawn carriage is the way to see Charleston apparently, although I still prefer to walk around by myself. There is the constant faint aroma of horse shit which I don’t mind at all, especially when there is no chance of stepping in it as all the horses have those little nappy bags hanging under their tails. Leaving the market, I go back down to the Waterfront Park and find the famous Pineapple Fountain. A sign in front of it warns that no one should paddle in the fountain if they have skin, ear, eye or respiratory infections, open lesions or wounds, or have diarrheal illness or nausea. Oh and you shouldn’t spit or blow your nose in it and should have a shower before getting in. Before getting in? After that list, I’d want a bloody good scrub and a course of antibiotics after getting out! I stand a good distance away from all the swirling germs and use the zoom on my camera!
Photo: The Pineapple Fountain
I decide to wander around the French Quarter again as I loved it so much. In some streets there are still the original cobblestones and although some of the lamps have electric bulbs in them these days, I am really thrilled to see that even more still use gas, the flames flickering away even in the daylight.
Photos: The beautiful French Quarter of Charleston
In East Bay Street is the longest cluster of intact Georgian row houses in the States, the earliest structures dating back to the 1680s. Once being shops and residences of notable merchants and planters, they fronted the wharfs on the Cooper River but fell into decay after years of neglect and war until the 1920s when some where bought by a woman who wanted to see them preserved and not demolished. The name ‘Rainbow Row’ was coined in the 1940s after the pastel colours they were painted and they remain today one of the most photographed and painted Charleston scenes.
Photos: Houses on Rainbow Row, East Bay Street
Retracing my steps I wander back down East Bay Street to a wonderful Gothic piece of architecture standing all alone with nothing else remotely gothic around it. It seems deserted. I hope not.
Photos: I just love Gothic!
Photo: Wet Willie’s – a pub, a party, an institution – apparently
My next stop is Harris Teeter, the supermarket. I don’t need much, just a bit of fresh, just a 10-minute walk from the other side of the market. Obediently (probably completely in my little world of Jean) stopped at the traffic lights because they tell me to even though no cars are coming, I am tapped on the shoulder by a young man grinning at me saying ‘I think it’s safe to cross now’. He chatters to me all the way to the supermarket. He has a friend, Denise, who now lives in England, he tells me. I am waiting for him to ask if I know her but thankfully he doesn’t and I am able to swallow the laugh that was threatening to break out. Sweet lad.
Sitting outside the supermarket waiting for the shuttle bus to pick me up. I have seen just a little bit of Charleston, probably the nicest and most expensive bit to be sure, but I just love it. I know there are other nice bits, people keep telling me about them, but if I were to live here it would have to be in that French Quarter, full of gas lights and palm trees. Love it, love it, love it.
Photo: View from my supermarket bench
When Sean picks me up, I am his only passenger and I get him to take me over towards the aquarium as I want to see the beautiful suspension bridge across the Cooper River. Such a sweetie, he does. I decide not to hold him up and run down to the river. Big mistake. I can’t remember how long it is since I last ran anywhere but I am definitely not used to it and my heart and lungs told me so in no uncertain terms. After about a hundred yards I am huffing and puffing – thank God there is no one around to see me. Noticing that there really is no one around, the deserted aquarium suddenly seems a bit spooky. I get to the river front, take in the view, take the photos and run back, walking the last bit in order to get my breath back and not show myself up as being such an old git in front of a 20-year old.
Photos: The Arthur Ravenel Junior Bridge, the third longest cable-stayed bridge in the Western Hemisphere
Back at the marina I find Mike doing battle with the birds, fog horn in hand and mouth. I am not sure who is winning tonight.
The wind is still whipping around and the boat during the evening is bloody cold. We go to bed early, togged up under our three blankets. I rarely wear anything in bed and here I am in t-shirt, trousers and socks, snuggling up to Mike who is in the same attire. I cannot believe that just a few days ago I was throwing the blankets off. Apparently this cold snap is set to stay for a few days yet.
Great.
Position: 32 deg 46 min N, 79 deg 57 min W
Distance so far: 3276 miles
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