Road Trip: The Low Country

After three days in the camper with some kind of food poisoning, DH and I finally emerged yesterday, ready to enjoy the time we have left in the low country. We're staying in Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina, just over the bridge from Charleston.

NOTE:  If you've ever watched "Naked and Afraid" on the Discovery Channel (a very strange show BTW), we could have starred in our own episode entitled, "Naked and Afraid in a Tiny Camper". But, we're better now and have been trying to make up for lost time.

Yesterday afternoon we visited Oakland Plantation here in Mt. Pleasant, SC. The land that our canpground sits on was once part of the plantation and, although the plantation is not open to the public, the owners do allow a tour guide from the campground to take campers through the plantation on a wagon.

Our wagon driver/tour guide was quite a character; at each wagon stop he'd tell a joke. He did not have a Southern accent either.  His was the Yorkshire accent of Northern England. DH and I spent time in Yorkshire in 2017 and that, along with the fact that my grandmother had the very same accent, made it easily recognizable. Our driver has lived in SC for 40 years after spending his youth in the UK. 

As we drove, he told the story of the enslaved young man who planted these trees; look how beautiful they are now!

The Oakland house, dating from 1750, is the oldest house in Mt Pleasant. Although it's smaller than many plantation houses, it is unique in that it is one of the few plantation houses that survived the civil war. Most were burned. Six slave families were living in this house toward the end of the war and, for that reason, the building was spared.

We passed the slave graveyard on the way out. Only a few of the graves have stone markers. Our guide noted that the rest were marked with either a shell or, more commonly, a cup, bowl, or plate that the deceased enslaved person used at his or her last meal. This practice can be traced back to Africa, where a wide variety of items used by the dead individual were placed on a grave. The area is now fenced off out of respect for the people interred there.

After our carriage ride, we finally made it to Red's Ice House, our favorite annual stop for shrimp, Margaritas, dolphin watching (and people watching!), and sunsets.

Red's is in the part of Mt. Pleasant known as Shem Creek, where a large fleet of shrimp boats are moored. We love to eat outside on the deck where you can see the creek and enjoy the dolphins and the sunset.


Dogs are allowed and the locals bring them to the bar with them. The dogs sit there patiently, in an odd variety of dogginess, as their masters share stories about them over a cold one.

We always order the "Killer Shrimp" - very spicy! They're served with french bread for dipping. This time we tried crab cakes as well; they were delicious. And of, course, Margaritas!

Today is our last day here in Mt. Pleasant. The weather continues to be perfect, sunny and in the low 70's. We decided to take an afternoon ride to Georgetown, SC, which is north of here, about halfway between Charleston and Myrtle Beach. It's the third oldest city in South Carolina. In her recent autobiography, Michelle Obama traced her roots to Jim Robinson, an enslaved man from Georgetown plantation; he was her great-great grandfather.

We stopped for lunch at the Big Fish (Big Tuna). 

We ate here a few years ago and really enjoyed the seafood . . . 

 and laid back low-country atmosphere.

Right inside the door, they have a parrot.

And he talks!

Because my sister insists that DH looks like Jimmy Buffet, I had to take a picture of him with the parrot. She's always kidding him that he aka Jimmy needs one, so, Joanne, this one's for you!

I ordered the She Crab Soup. It's a local Charleston favorite - hot, creamy, and delicious! The soup is named for the She-Crab, or female crab, as the orange crab roe is an ingredient in traditional she-crab soup. In case you'd like to try it, here's a local  recipe for She Crab Soup.

Tomorrow morning we're heading for Tennessee. We'll miss South Carolina with its live oaks, 

Palmettos, gorgeous islands and beaches, sunsets and seafood. 

Hopefully we'll be back next year!

Road Trip: Shenandoah Valley, VA

After two days of driving, we decided to stop in Virginia's Shenandoah Valley for a few days. That's part of the fun of carrying our "house" (aka the Casita) with us on road trips. Within a mile of I-81 we were in the country and passing remnants of a world that looked as if time had somehow forgotten it.

I have a thing for abandoned buildings. I like to imagine what life was like for the people who lived and worked in them.

So, within a few minutes of exiting the highway, I was screaming to DH, "Pull Over! Pull Over!  I need to take a picture!" 

After a few stops to take pictures, we did eventually arrive at our campground . . . 

Unhook the Casita . . . 

And stare in amazement at the signs of Spring we are seeing here: Crocus in bloom , fields just turning green , baby lambs and calves with their mothers, and temperatures in the high 60's to low 70's.

After we got settled, we decided to go for a ride to explore the area's back roads.

As usual, I almost got shot!

It goes like this: 

Me: "Pull over! Pull Over!"

DH: "This land is posted; it says 'No Trespassing.'"

Me:  "Pull Over, anyway. I'm just going to take ONE little picture. We're in the middle of nowhere, Who will know? Anyway, I'm not Hunting or Poaching!"

DH pulls over. I get out and completely disobey the sign, walking all around the abandoned property with my camera and (as I realized too late) wearing my you-can't-miss-me blaze orange sweatshirt, when I hear the sound of a very large, very old, very in-need-of-a-tune-up pick-up truck.  I freeze behind the abandoned house. No more loud muffler sounds; the truck has stopped. I'm Dead!

I can't hide! I can only rely on D.H., who is very good with people, to save me. I come around the far side of the abandoned property to see a huge, rusty gray pick-up truck pulled up next to our SUV.  And a big guy in a t-shirt with a Confederate flag on the pocket, leaning into the driver's side.

"Oh, S**t, DH is toast", I think.

But, DH plays the "tourists from Maine" card and we're saved, at least this time!  I jump into the car with my camera and we take off. Big truck guy only follows for a mile or two.

DH and I are both fascinated by the Civil War. We passed many battlefield markers along the roadside and were saddened by the numbers of men who were lost in innocent-looking cornfields along the quiet country roads we traveled. 

At the end of Day #1, we came upon "Dan's Steak House" on a steep hill in the middle of a mountain pass. On a whim, which is how we always seem to discover great places when we travel, we made a U-turn.  And enjoyed the best dinner we've had in a long time, everything homemade, with a mountain view to die for, and all for $20.00 each. Sometimes, you just have to take a chance!

On Monday, our 2nd day in the Valley, we decided to get off the beaten path and take old Rt. 42 south from Harrisonburg. What a beautiful ride! In many places, we were reminded of the English countryside as we drove along narrow curvy roads high above the valley.  In most areas, the little roads followed rushing streams with fat black cows grazing in almost every field. 

And then we came to the village of  Stokesville. All that was left of this once-thriving village was the abandoned railroad station . . . 

And a narrow train bridge that now carries a little road over the nearby stream.

A random "Which way? Left or right?" decision in the middle of nowhere led us to Virginia's Natural Chimneys.

"The Shenandoah Valley was once the floor of a great inland sea. Centuries ago, as that sea receded, the forces of nature carefully etched out an awe-inspiring formation of solid rock. The seven Natural Chimneys tower as much as 120 feet above the pastoral terrain of the Valley." 
~from Natural Chimneys Park website.

We got so "into" our surroundings that, when we decided to head back, we realized that we were almost 70 miles away from our campground.

Today, we're headed to Charlottesville to tour Thomas Jefferson's home at Monticello. We also have tickets for the Sally Hemings Tour, which focuses on the life of Jefferson's slaves.

 Looking forward to another interesting day in Virginia,

Call the Midwife

Have you ever watched a TV show that was so good you cried when it was over?

That's what happens to DH and I as each season of Call the Midwife comes to an end.

We sit on either end of the couch, in the dark, afraid to look at each other because we know we will see a few embarrassing tears.

We just finished watching Season 7 of Call the Midwife and can't wait for Season 8 in early 2019.

Call the Midwife, based on the memoirs of the late Jennifer Worth, tells the often heart-wrenching, often funny, stories of midwifery in London’s East End  in the 1950's and early 60's. The drama follows the nurses, midwives and nuns from Nonnatus House, who travel by bicycle to provide maternity care to some of the city's poorest mothers.

The series is produced by BBC1 and PBS.  Newly qualified midwife Jenny (Vanessa Redgrave) and the  eccentric, lovable community of nuns at Nonnatus House can all be found on Netflix, which is airing all 7 Seasons.

This is the perfect series to binge watch as the fall days grow shorter. I promise that it will make you laugh, cry, and maybe even want to dance.

That's because the episodes of Call the Midwife are accompanied by exactly the perfect music for the times. The soundtrack includes so many favorites from the 50's and early 60's:  Diana, Lollipop, My Special Angel, Here Comes Summer . . . 

Little Darlin', Come Softly to Me, Stranger In Paradise, Dedicated to the One I Love. If you're a Boomer like me, you can fill in the rest of the list (and probably remember all the words too!).

As the Series begins, Jenny is surprised to find herself at a convent -- she thought she was being sent to a small private hospital -- and is initially daunted by her surroundings, most notably the formidable Sister Evangelina and the unconventional Sister Monica Joan. 

But Jenny gradually begins to find her way and develops incredible friendships among the nurses, as they are drawn into the lives and homes of the women and families they treat.

I like that the producers of Call the Midwife are not afraid to address the medical and social issues of the time, including polio . . .

Thalidomide babies . . .

Down Syndrome . . .

and womens' issues like poverty, domestic violence, and the lack of birth control among women who can't afford even one more baby.

Thankfully, truth is mixed with a big dose of British humor that often makes you laugh out loud

As the nuns interact with the families of their East End neighborhood of  Poplar.

Jenny's voice lives on in Vanessa Redgrave’s crackly narration, as an elderly Jenny, who reminds us at the end of each episode . . . 

that love is often the only answer. 

   By then, I'm usually reaching for the tissues and repeating to DH, "This is just so well done". 

I say it every time. 

This post is linked to:

Share Your Cup #310 at Mrs. Olson blog
Sundays at Home #13 at The Little Farmstead
Amaze Me Monday #285 at Dwellings