RT 2016 day 6: Hilton Head SC to Savannah, GA

Chicken fried steak and grits from Page's Okra Grill

This morning we were rushing to get going.  It felt like I was getting ready for work. Thanks Jenn.  Jerk.   Anyway, we stopped for breakfast at Page's Okra Grill.  Jenn had some chicken fried steak that was about the size of a small dog.  It tasted very good...meanwhile I had eggs, bacon, and grits.  Grits are great.  If you smother them in other stuff.  They are bland otherwise.  Very bland.   Oh well, good news, I didn't eat too much (this time).

We stopped in Beaufort, SC and went to a fort, can't recall the name, probably something inventive like Beaufort Fort, and were attacked by mosquitoes from hell.  Seriously, it was like we were in a remake of Birds (for you young folks that's a scary movie where birds attack).  We didn't spend much time there since it was made abundantly clear that Jenn doesn't like mosquitoes...and she continued to moan and groan about it for HOURS.  In fact, it's hours later and she's still talking about the baseball size mosquito bite on her forehead.  I keep telling her it's hardly noticeable unless you look at her face.   And that's the truth.  Looks like someone slammed her head into a table top.   Very entertaining.  

Best hush puppies thus far:  Salty Dog.

Next stop, Hilton Head, SC.  Why? Because I didn't plan the trip.  It's $6 to get into the area.  WTF.  Greedy bastards.  We paid our cash and continued on to the Salty Dog, because it's famous.  And I wanted a t-shirt and food.  Gumbo and hush puppies.  Both were excellent.  Anyway, on the way there, the remains of Hurricane Matthew were obvious.  It was like we were driving through a logging operation in the hills of Oregon .  Trees on houses, cars, trees on the side of the road in huge piles (that's almost EXACTLY like a logging operation in Oregon!).  It was pretty fantastic to see what Mother Nature can do when she doesn't like our evil ways.  Or maybe it has to do more with low pressure over warm water and water vapor.   Whatever.  Pick the explanation you prefer.

Paid $6 bucks in Hilton Head to see what I can see on any Oregon backroad

Hurricane Matthew's destruction:  Basically on every side road in Hilton Head, SC

Once in Savannah we located our home base and were excited to see it was in the middle of the town...so no driving issues for us.  Jenn had scheduled a hearse tour so we stuck close to the area and ended up eating at a place called Cajun Café.  It's on the waterfront which was about a block from our haunted hotel, The Planters Inn.  The Planters Inn is supposed to be haunted...because it's old.  No great stories from the staff or other visitors.  They do have a wine and cheese happy hour type event at 5ish.  Jenn who keeps bitching, err, I mean complaining, that I'm spelling her name with two "N's (and I keep telling her I'm the writer, if you want it your way, write it) partook on both nights of the wine.  Loads of wine.  So basically she was tipsy before dinner.  What a lush.  Wait, is she reading this?  I mean, she drank one glass of wine then retired to her room.    NOT   (hehehe, she's reading this, I know, I kid!)

DB pushing sauce to customers.

Anyway, Jenn with two N's or one, was sitting at the Cajun Café when she befriended the very drunk bartender named Drunk Bartender, or DB for short.  DB convinced Jenn, who was already a bit snockered, to order a 'pickle back'.  Which I personally think is something the locals only serve to tourists but who knows.  It's a shot of Jameson with a pickle juice backer.  Sounds absolutely horrifying to me.  But Jenn drank it and DB also drank one...and they both proceeded to get even more intoxicated.   I mean, happier.  Jenn ordered alligator bites and I had this not so amazing pulled pork nachos.  Anyhoo, Jenn ended up getting DB's phone number so we could hang out with DB the next day.

Of note, DB is very proud of Cajun Cafe's home made sauce and made sure everyone tried it.  It was very entertaining watching DB interact with the customers...and it made me really want to quit my day job and become a bartender.  I mean, hell,  who doesn't want a job where you can talk all night and drink?  Ok, I admit, I'm a bit old for that.  Maybe. 

Eventually, our hearse ghost tour started and then ended.  I'd like to be able to tell you it was awesome but the 1985 used hearse needed some serious mechanical help.  One of the rear bearings was going out so it sounded like we were being followed by a team of horses.  Clank clank clank.  And the driver, John, though very nice, looked like a homeless dude who hadn't showered in months.  The cool factor is all in the fact that you are riding around in a hearse....that sounds like a horse drawn carriage. 

Hearse tour...bad photo?  Well it was a bad tour, I didn't think it deserved high props. 

Another successful day, if nothing else, because I was not at work.  As the days slip past, and work starts to beckon, I'm sure the idea of becoming a drunk bartender will sound much more appealing...