Yes, it's true. Hubby, our two wacky children and I took a tour in the Holy City of the South. It's truly a beautiful, awesome place. Dave wants to move there--on one of the mansions on the Battery. Unfortunately, our income will not allow this. We stayed three days and three nights.
After five hours in a cramped Mazda, we checked into a Quality Inn. Of course, our room was next to a group of teens who made it their lives' mission to annoy the snot out of me.
On Monday, we visited the LaFrance Fire Truck museum and walked the Battery. Wesley's overriding concern was picking up the perfect shale souvenir. Regan was excited to spit into the water. We ate a terrific Italian restuarant called Bocci's.
On Tuesday, after a acid reflux causing breakfast at the hotel, we took a horse-drawn carriage tour. Regan loved the horse, Timmy and totally ignored everything but the horse's rear end. It was off to Folly Beach for an afternoon of sand and sunburning. I managed to put sunblock on everyone but me. My back was the color of Roma tomato. The Folly Beach fishing pier was next. Wesley earned the name "Fish Guts" as he slide his hand onto the pier's nastier souvenirs. That night, we gorged ourselves at Sticky Fingers BBQ. FYI, Wesley's hands were disinfected and washed several times.
The teens/college guys next to us at the hotel threw a party that lasted into the wee hours of the morning. I only fell asleep while someone was having sex or during the burping contest.
Wednesday dawned hot and muggy. Of course, it was the first one spent totally outside. We traveled across the Ravanel Bridge, aka the Funky Bridge as Regan renamed it, to Mount Pleasant to visit Patriot's Point, home of the USS Yorktown, Clagamore, Ingham and Laffey. We also visited the Medal of Honor museum. I am in awe at the bravery of our military.
I highly recommend the North Towne Grill in North Charleston for dining. We ate there Wednesday night. Greek food is so overlooked. If someone told me to sing in public for the spanakopita and Greek potatoes from the NT Grill, I'd be up there warbling and writhing like a bad Madonna imitation.
On Thursday, we boarded a ferry for a tour of Charleston Harbor which was very relaxing. Regan only spit overboard twice.
During the drive back, I had to slip my bra off while on the road. The sunburn on my back made sitting back impossible. Fortunately, I was wearing a tank top which made bra unfastening easy. I told Dave to stop for a bathroom break but not at a truck stop considering my braless and tank top state. Dave spied a Wendy's from the interstate and to his endless and cruel amusement, it was a Wendy's attached to a truck stop. I got out to pee and buy drinks. I immediately broke into a sweat from the heat. Slipped into the truck stop part, because that, of course, was were the toilets and apple juice were, I peed and made made my way to the sink to wash my hands. The air conditioner was working overtime and the bathroom was incredibly chilly. Luckily, I glanced at myself in the mirror and..... What happens to boobs when they get cold? Yep, you guessed--I had a pair of headlights on my chest.
Hunching over like an eighty year old women in a lime green tank, I stood in line with Buck of JD Hunt trucking staring at me.
I am now happily at home, wearing a bra and copious amounts of aloe on my back. Thank you, Sue Woo, for all the recommendations!
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