Day Five, Off the Island, the Ghosts of Savannah

As we ate, my sweet tea disappeared.  J.J.'s glass kept getting lipstick prints on it even though she wasn't wearing lipstick. Then the window reflection made it look like there was a 6 ft tall gorgeous drag queen standing behind me laughing and undoing her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders.

All of these things had logical explanations, but we decided it was more fun to think we were dining with the ghosts of Savannah and the ghosts are gloriously fabulous. Good company, all around!



We headed out to walk around town and visited the Telfair Museum, the Mercer House,  and a couple of shops. Mercer House was a tour of no photographs allowed, but the guide was seriously channelling a younger Morgan Freeman, and if you closed your eyes, you would seriously think you were there with a wily Jim Williams and Mr. Freeman. I am not one to talk about specific ghosts and haunting, but I swear Jim was there in the purple room grinning at the whole ordeal. Jen said maybe I was picking up on her mental assessment of how the museum artifacts are being displayed and cared for, which is not up to standards (cabinet holding books, was bowing from the weight of the books among many things).

Jen drove us to Tybee Island for a tromp on the beach. The fog settled in fast. It was suddenly cold!

It was surreal to walk in the fog with the tide rushing in on a near empty, possibly radioactive beach.

So then we headed to find a hotel, sadly, nothing was available. We were left to walk the streets of Savannah when the good and evil may waltz and play together. It was fun! We even found the exact make and model of my first car. A 1953 Chevy, automatic transmission, 4 door, black and chrome.

And of course crossed paths with a ghost tour.

Then exhausted we headed back to the car, no hotel rooms nearer the airport either. We parked in the car and talked until about 3 am, then ate breakfast at the Waffle House.

Oh, did I mention airport? To be continued......