When you plan a southern sojourn, you have much to do. You have to cancel the mail and the paper. Make sure any bill that might be due is paid. Check in with the police and your next door neighbors so your house is secure. Turn down the heat. Have the car serviced. When it’s finally time to leave, you’re almost too tired to get in the car.
Then you’re on the road, dealing with rain and fog and trucks and a nervous dog, who spends two days in the car breathing as if a thunderstorm is about to strike. You take what Google Maps lists as a shortcut around Roanoke and it ends up being a longcut on a winding road over a good-sized mountain that makes the trip at least a half hour longer. And you spend a night in a dog friendly Ramada inn, where the housekeeping staff forgot to completely clean the toilet.
But then you motor into Beaufort, South Carolina, and you make your way to the little house in the Town of Port Royal. Then it’s all worth it. Fog and panting are forgotten, because the view from your deck of the Beaufort River is wonderful. Live oaks hung with Spanish moss shade the deck, and there’s a marina next door with a bar and restaurant. The sun’s out and the temperature is close to 70. And we’re on southern time.
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