Δημοσίευσε: 25.06.2018
11.06.-15.06.2018 To answer the question from the previous post: No, we didn't make it from Foley in Alabama to Jacksonville, Florida on Monday. The way was simply too far and we left too late. When we stopped in Tallahassee for a short food break after 4 hours of driving, we realized that it was already shortly after 6 pm. It would take another 2 hours to Jacksonville....and that with tropical temperatures that had already exhausted us in the previous hours. So, once again, we spontaneously booked a hotel nearby. It was still too hot for camping and sleeping in the car, and our experiences of the last few weeks had shown us that classic RV parks, like the ones we had known until Manitou Springs and which are primarily intended for travelers, did not exist here in the South. RV parks here were more like hostels for the lower class and not intended for tourists. This was also the case in Wichita Falls, where we were lucky that there was still a spot available and there was also a tourist orientation to be seen. Before we went to New Orleans and spent the night in Alexandria the night before, we tried to find a place in an RV park outside the city. Without success. This campground didn't have an office where we could have checked in and was inhabited by rednecks. Not suitable for the average Central European.
Be that as it may: We spent the night in Tallahassee in a hotel and started the next morning refreshed and this time early in the morning towards Jacksonville. Continuing through Florida towards the Atlantic coast, we saw many curious things. Every few kilometers there were tire carcasses on the side of the road that apparently are not removed here. In addition, there were run-over turtles, crocodiles, or even armadillos, who knew there were armadillos in Florida, please raise your hand. The Americans are not so concerned with traffic safety, so it happens that the suitcase is strapped TO the trunk instead of being placed in the trunk, probably already occupied (with what, I leave that to your imagination)...or three trucks have a little race distributed over three lanes. Because in the land of unlimited possibilities, trucks are allowed to drive around 120 km/h, no problem, absolutely safe.
In Jacksonville itself, we didn't stop. Our destination was Savannah in Georgia. Savannah is characterized by many buildings from the founding period. But our first stop was not the city center, but an old plantation (Wormsloe Historic Site) southeast of the city. We drove along a long road, towering over it were huge old oaks. That's exactly how we imagined it. We parked Jim Bob and walked along the various paths of the area. The area itself was taken over by a British newcomer in 1736 and later used as an American outpost against the British/Spanish/other invaders. The area is in the hands of flora and fauna. Everywhere in the many trees and bushes there were insects, birds, and crabs. Unfortunately, only the foundation walls of the actual main house were left. A mud house doesn't last forever. After we had returned to the car along the dried-out parts of the nearby water, it started to rain. We continued our journey to the hotel we had chosen for that night. It was pouring rain. Within a few seconds, we were soaked to the bone. After a short break in the hotel room, we got some refreshments at the nearby convenience store.
The next morning started with sunshine again. We decided to explore the city a bit before continuing north. We walked through Forsyth Park, whose paths, like the plantation paths the day before, were overgrown with trees (maybe oaks, I don't know). Then we went to the old waterfront promenade on the Savannah River. There were many old houses here, some of which were only accessible by narrow bridges. In addition, from the current street level to the old promenade, you could only get there through steep stairs or cobblestone ramps, which were incredibly slippery with flip-flops on your feet. Down by the river, we spotted an old paddle steamer that offered tours. But since the departure time was not until noon (we were there around 10 am) and we had other plans, we went back to Jim Bob. Bella had found a cemetery just outside the city on the internet, which was supposed to impress with special gravestones, statues, and mausoleums. When we arrived there, we realized that you could also drive through the cemetery in a typical American way. We hadn't done that before, so off we went. We quickly realized that this decision was not as lazy as initially thought, because the cemetery was huge. And the sun was already beating down. The promised statues and mausoleums did exist and, despite their sometimes old age, still looked very good.
After this little exploration tour, we hit the road again. Heading north. Heading towards the final destination. But before the last three stops Washington D.C., New York City, and Montreal (all city stays) awaited us, we decided to enjoy the ocean one last time. We quickly found the suitable place for that: Myrtle Beach in South Carolina. For accommodation, we had chosen one of those nasty big concrete buildings that are characterized by party music and many package tourists. But the room was affordable, although not particularly clean or modernly furnished, but it offered a balcony with a sea view. And to make it even better, we were accommodated in an annex building, which reduced the volume of the party music to an almost imperceptible level due to the distance to the main building. We quickly brought our stuff to the room and headed to the beach. Finally, swimming again. The beach was just as sandy as the beaches on the Gulf, although we missed the squeaking of the Gulf sand a bit. Of course, the water didn't have the bathtub temperature like at Orange Beach, but it was bearable. And after a few moments, it wasn't so cold anymore. The advantage here was that the waves were much higher. So we were both able to glide over the water on our non-existent bodyboards...Fat helps with that. After spending the afternoon on the beach and in the water, we shook off the sand and went in search of a nice restaurant that mainly offered seafood. Searched. Found. So off we went with the bus along the main street, where 95% of the hotels and thus 95% of all tourists congregate. Of course, the typical American tourist drives all distances by car, so it was very congested along the main street. We were just as fast as all the fat and lazy people in their cars. When we arrived at the desired restaurant, we found that we were not the only ones who wanted to eat there. Which also means: at least half an hour of waiting for a table. Took too long for us because we were hungry. Swimming like a whale makes you hungry, after all. Off to the next restaurant, which was right next door. Same problem. Same answer from us: No, thanks. My loving companion's mood was sinking. Bella was hungry and getting increasingly hangry, which she had also told one of the waitresses. By accident, of course. Nevertheless, or precisely because of that, it was funny. We decided to walk a few streets away from the beach and found a nice restaurant there that offered the seafood we wanted. We enjoyed our meal and returned to our hotel, where we ended the evening with a round of Yahtzee on our balcony. The next morning started with a visit to a typical American diner with pancakes and bacon. Then we packed our things and loaded everything into our pick-up truck. But instead of continuing driving, we decided to spend the morning a little longer at the beach. For the last time on our trip, we wanted to feel the sand between our toes and the water on our faces. Again, the waves were ideal for bodysurfing. Even better than the day before. That's how we had imagined our vacation on the Gulf. But as we all know, that didn't happen. After we had exhausted ourselves and our pants were full of sand, we got into Jim Bob and continued our journey. Heading north. Washington D.C., or more precisely McLean, was waiting for us. But we didn't make it there from Myrtle Beach (it's a 7-hour drive). We spent the night in Rocky Mount, North Carolina. Just before the border to Virginia. We were getting closer to our destination....