This week started off rather rough. On Sunday we discovered an electrical gremlin that was preventing proper operation of the jacks and generator. We didn't have time to chase it down because we had an appointment to get an oil and transmission fluid change for Loretta on Monday morning and a lot of ground to cover first. As it turned out this basic service required some hard-to-find parts which caused a 3-day delay on our way to the pre-paid campsite in Savannah. Lance may tell that story of woe in gory detail later, for now let me just tell you that it involved a lot of cursing, an unwelcome hotel bill, boarding the cats in a facility across town, and some small amount of tears of frustration.
By Wednesday we were back on track and settled in to Fort McAllister as originally planned, just South and East of Savannah, and trying to make the most of our shortened time window without generator, slides or jacks.
First on the agenda: a redirect from the frustration of the preceding days - starting off with a tasting tour of downtown old Savannah. We met our tour guide downtown at 22 Square. What followed was 6 food tastings and a more solid understanding of the history of the city. From here on out we will do foodie tours first thing when we arrive to a city, as there were many tastes we wanted to follow up on and not enough time left to explore them all.
|Shawna at 22 Square, first stop on the foodie tour|
|Foodie tour group on the move|
Here's a fun fact we learned about Savannah that day: The people here will tell you right up front that if it can't be explained by Science, the obvious answer is Ghosts; there is no third answer. The city was originally settled to stop the Spanish from colonizing it on their way North from Florida. The Revolutionary War General they settled with this task hated the weather and often said so, on two separate occasions he was reported to complain in particular about the moss hanging on everything. He died from heat stroke in his garden and his body is buried under a garden square in the middle of the city. It is still the only place around where the moss doesn't grow on the trees and there is no known scientific reason for it. So... ghost. Obviously.
|Our tour took us right past Paula Deen's place|
A local chef's grandmother refers to the Civil War as The War of Northern Aggression. Further confirmation of what we all know to be true already; the victors tell the tales and write the history books their own way.
Fort McAllister is the site of several important Civil War battles. Ultimately Sherman took the fort in 1864 but it wasn't an easy win.
|The waterway at the fort, once the site of iron-clad battleships at war, so peaceful today.|
|Cannons are now silent at Fort McAllister|
|Under this mound they heated cannon balls to try to set fire to incoming warships|
On Friday, with calmer spirits and a clear head, Lance laid out some tools and a flashlight, crawled under the bus, chased down and conquered the electrical gremlins (there turned out to be two of them). With a fully functioning home everything looks a little brighter.
So, since this is my tale, the part I'll focus on is is Lance shimmying under the bus, saving us thousands of dollars in repair and hotel bills, and emerging victorious with greasy elbows, sand all over his back, and a grin from ear to ear.
Without a doubt there is no substitute for a handy man!