I head south from South of the Border and the world starts to become sane again. Well, I’m in South Carolina, so “marginally more sane”. As I head further south, I pass possibly the best billboard I’ve seen, though since I was driving I don’t have a picture of it. I forget the store it was advertising, I think it was a mechanics, but the billboard read:
[Someone Mechanics]
“I trust ‘em!” – Actual Customer.
“Actual Customer”. I love it. It’s either adorably unself-aware or just mad.
I continue to south of the border of South of the Border and arrive in Savannah, Georgia.
It’s a very pretty city, filled with tree-lined roads and tree-lined parks and tree-lined trees.
As well as being lovely places, many of the parks serve as memorials to one person or another, such as Tomochichi, who negotiated with English settlers to ensure that early Georgia thrived.
Also having a park focused on him is John Wesley, the founder of Methodism. Methodism is one of the stricter branches of Christianity in regards to alcohol, with the modern church using grape juice instead of wine during Holy Communion. John Wesley’s influence on Savannah explains why it also doubles up as a place of total bacchanalia.
Slushies, now with more grain alcohol.
Savannah is one of the few areas of the country with no open container prohibitions, meaning that you can wander about the streets drinking with pride instead of surreptitiously swigging from paper bags. Whether or not this contributes to the urge to take your pet parrot out for a walk is debatable:
It does, however, contribute to the fact that the majority of this post is pictures of things with little commentary. My experience of this place has been sight-seeing orientated and more getting a flavour for the local culture.
Culture.
breakingboyd 