Our tour began a Biltmore House. I thought that it would be awe-inspiring ...
but all it inspired was a great disgust for the economic traditions and stratification's in our culture.
While the house is absolutely amazing and architecturally-impressive, I felt guilty when Chico bought us a pair of admission tickets to tour the estate and winery. If the money had gone to the city of Asheville, I would have felt better about it. But we simply further lined the pockets of the Vanderbilts and supported the hegemony in the exact fashion that they expect. We "ooh" and "aw" over their expansive and ridiculous amounts of wealth, while the rest of the world struggles to find steady income and sure financial-footing. I mean, come on! 42 indoor bathrooms and a pool when most American houses had NO indoor plumbing? Isn't that a bit excessive? Yes, I understand that the Vanderbilts put this money into "trust" for charitable organizations, but I would rather someone else be controlling those funds. Because, as we all know, the wealthy never take advantage of the less-privileged. On a side note, the winery was pretty kick ass. But, if you buy their wine at good ole HT rather than on the estate, you will save about $10-$15. Just a heads up.
From America's Largest Home, we headed to the home of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil and the seat of Southern Hospitality. Upon arriving in Savannah, I immediately fell in love. Not with the beautiful Spanish moss hanging from the old trees or the amazing brick Federal-style homes in the historic district or even the sweet little squares littered about the easily navigable city. I fell in love with The Traveller. I find it absolutely wonderful that you can eat or drink in a bar, and, if you don't have time to finish your drink, you can take it with you in a plastic cup. Two things: Why is this so new to me and when can I move there? It was amazing. When we were leaving the hotel at 9:30, Chico made us a little Traveller for the road. There is nothing like a Screwdriver to start the day off right. Of course, we also drank in bars and restaurants, but we always had our back-up supply if necessary. It was so refreshing to stroll through the city, admiring the artistry and architecture while sipping on the Traveller. It could quite possibly be Paradise.
While in Savannah, we visited Mercer house (murder spot for MGGE) and St. Bonaventure Cemetery. This was pretty great. I got some amazing pics that I plan to print and frame. (Look forward to seeing that in a living room near you!). However, the experience also left me a bit angry. At one point, this statue was in the Bonaventure Cemetery:
On a happier note, I have decided that men look dead sexy in kilts. Especially tall, Scottish men who work in Scottish bars. I think it would greatly improve my quality of life if all hot men owned and frequently wore kilts. It makes the entire drinking-in-a-pub experience far more authentic and enjoyable. Yeah for kilts!
After bidding farewell to my new favorite city, the boy and I headed north to Charleston. As we were driving up the highway through acres and acres of swamp land, we came across a road sign that read "SMOKE." That's it. Nothing more. As Chico and I looked at each other rather perplexed, another sign of the same variety appeared. Since my Southernese needs a bit of work, would anyone care to enlighten me on the meaning of these two signs. Are they commanding that I smoke? Are they reporting the presence of smoke that is nowhere to be found? Answers anyone?
After eating our weight in seafood, the boy and I headed home. But not before stopping at the Asheboro zoo. I absolutely fell in love with the Polar Bear and took some rather pornographic shots of the baboons. Maybe if you are lucky, I'll share!
Now I am home in the 'boro, trying to return to a normal life.
Normal is far less cooler than vacation.
That's all I have to say about that.