Songs of the South - Savannah-style

There was no end to Savannah's entertainment possibilities: clubs, theatres, special performances, . . .you name it, we had a full menu from which to choose. So many choices and so little time.  Add to that, the musicians entertaining in many restaurants and cocktail lounges . . . some so good that they brought us back for second helpings.

Such was the case with Downie Mosley. 


Downie Mosely 
 Jackie Smith  photo 2010 

 Mr. Mosley plays piano in Planters Tavern in the basement of The Olde Pink House Restaurant (23 Abercorn St., 912-232-4286) on Reynolds Square. We'd stopped in for an after-dinner drink, having dined Sunday evening in one of the more formal (and very popular, it seemed) upstairs rooms.

Actually, we'd gone to the restaurant in hopes of hearing a singer that Joel's Kirkland barber had raved about, Ms. Cidra Sams. Keith had heard her a few months ago. But Ms Sams was off that night; lucky for us, Mr. Mosley wasn't.

(I am using the courtesy titles in this post that we found were the norm in this city. You always refer to folks by their title and surname - I was 'Mrs. Smith', well, at least when they didn't call me  'darlin' . . .which happened quite often.)

With the tarvern's dark, low-slung ceiling -- the wood floor-board beams of the main floor-- and the taper candles used to illuminate the printed menus I wouldn't have been surprised to see ale being served in tankards. After all we were in a home built by a wealthy planter back in 1773 on land granted by the crown of England.  Back then it was the Habersham House and this bar had been the kitchen, we were told.

But back to Mr. Mosley, who sits at the piano near one of the two enormous fireplaces that anchor each end of the room. He was such a performer and played with such enthusiasm, that he captured the attention of diners and drinkers alike.  His wasn't cocktail lounge background music; he was center stage. And it wasn't the electronically-enhanced set medley of songs, nor did he use sheet music.  You requested a song and he played it.

Downie Mosley and Cidra Sams
Jackie Smith photo 2010

By the time he'd given us a sampling of songs written by Savannah's famous son, Johnny Mercer, we knew we would return the next night - right about the time that Mr. Mosley started playing. (And that night we got to meet Ms. Sams as well!)

(Hint:  Do click the Johnny Mercer link, it will give you a sample of  his music, thanks to a great YouTube posting.) 

Photos on this post are taken by me and you'll need my permission to reuse them.

A Novel Experience: Savannah's "Taxi Writer"

Even the briefest of encounters can produce the richest of travel memories.  Such was the case with a short taxi ride Sunday morning when we moved from the Savannah conference hotel to a small historic hotel tucked away at the corner of Reynolds Square.



Savannah's Taxi Writer - Robert T.S. Mickles, Sr.

When Joel asked our driver if he' watched any football the day before, he replied, "No, I am a writer. I am not into sports."  He then handed me his card which said he was:  Robert T. S. Mickles, Sr., Essence Magazine's best selling author of "Blood Kin, A Savannah Story, Part 1" and "Isaiah's Tear's, Part 2".
In response to all my questions  that his card had prompted, he offered me a large scrapbook (from the front passenger seat). It was filled with newspaper clippings about him, his books, clipped best-seller lists on which his books have appeared and photos of him with notable people. 

"May I take your photo?" I asked, as I exited the cab, adding, "You are famous!"  He laughed as he paused for the photo above, and said, "No, ma'am, I am not famous. Around here I am known as the Taxi Writer."

I bought his book at Savannah's E. Shaver fine books a few hours after our chance encounter.  The two store clerks offered stories about this author that painted a picture of a kind and generous man. The author's bio on the back of the book says he is the great-grandson of former slaves on one side of his family and Portuguese slave traders on the other. 

"The world needs to hear what we have to say.  We need to tell our stories." is the way he ends the prologue.  I suspect the book will be great if it is anything at all like the author.

[Note:  You can buy his books from Amazon and from the bookstore above.]

Do Not Feed the Alligators!

Sign at Marriott Riverfront,    Photo,(c) Jackie Smith

Hey y'all, thought I was kiddin' in the last post, didn't you? 
Well it's no joke. 
They don't want you feeding the alligators. (Just for the record, we haven't seen any alligators) and we've spent a good deal of time looking at the river or crossing it.  This sign, by the way, is posted at our Marriott Riverfront Hotel.  I've been shuttling across the river each day to the Savannah Convention Center (the Westin, adjacent to the Center, is in the photo below).

The Savannah River traffic from our room. Photo (C) Jackie Smith

 What we have seen is a  passing parade of freighters from around the world - we've lost count of the countries they represent but within a few minutes yesterday we had a Greek ship leave and an Italian one arrive.  Depending on who we've talked to, this is either the 3rd, 4th or 10th largest port in the United States. Whatever it's size, these mammoth sea creatures gliding by prompts squeals from kids and send adults sccurrying for cameras.

Tomorrow we give up this view for a taste of history; we are moving to the Planters Inn, on Reynolds Square in the heart of this charming city. We will be across the street from The Olde Pink House, restaurant and tavern, where many swear the ghosts roam freely. Will let y'all know if any make their way to the hotel. . .

Hey, Y'all - from Savannah

Okay so first I'll do some name droppin': 
--Paula Deen (she's the cook y'all see on the Food Network who cooks with a pound a butter and a lot a Southern influence).  Her restaurant The Lady and Sons is so dad gum popular in these parts among the tourists that even with reservations, there's a line outside the door.  They call her the 'First Lady of Southern Cooking' here. (But we've found even more local restaurants than hers without the fanfare which I'll tell you about later).

And then we have Johnny Mercer, the lyricist, who wrote such pieces as Moon River and Skylark and many others -- he's a hometown boy as well.

Other notables include Clarence Thomas the U.S Supreme Court Justice and then there is Juliet Gordon Low, (bet you don't know that name) but she's the founder of the Girl Scouts of America and since she spent most of her life here there are two historic places dedicated to her:  her birthplace and the Girl Scouts First Headquarters.

And then. . .there is Uga VII. . .and this guy is one of the most famous and loved residents:  He's the bulldog who is the University of Georgia's cherished mascot (there are stuffed versions of him for sale around here complete with red sweaters. 

Beyond the famous folks, there's the history (more on that later) and the beautiful squares and the southern hospitality (have you ever gone to a national conference and seen posters on the doors of businesses saying "Welcome" to your group? It is happening here.) 

Y'all (you do talk this way after about 20 minutes here) may not be able to understand this, but there is somethin' special about this place; we are talkin' down home Americana. I am ready to move here, but if that doesn't pan out, I've at least got a few days after the conference  and there's the ghost tour in a hearse, or the Historic Homes Tour or the Civil War tour. . .so y'all check back later there's a lot more a comin' from these parts.  And don't let me forget to tell y'all about not feedin' the alligators. . .

We went Walkin' about Midnight in . . .Savannah

/We went walkin' about midnight yesterday in Savannah. . .not through the Garden of Good and Evil but down the main drag to the Marriott Riverside conference hotel. Despite my tweets and other teasers about John Berent's book, this walk was because we arrived about then --several hours after we were scheduled to arrive -- and were looking for a place to buy a glass of wine. (Every place was closed by the way - no wine).

Let me make it clear:  after missing Alaska's flight 261 a few years ago by only three days (the flight that ended up in the Pacific Ocean killing all on board) I don't take flying lightly. It is not for the faint of heart. I consider  flying  the means to an end, as was the case yesterday:  we were flying to get to Savannah -  which we did, although somewhat later than we had planned.

 Not long after I wrote from 35,000 feet above the United States, our plane slowed (at least it didn't circle for an hour as others had) on our approach to Atlanta.  The flight attendants said to expect 'severe weather" in Atlanta, the city where we could connect to our 39-minute flight to Savannah.  Later, on the ground, we learned they'd been under a 'tornado watch'. And so we joined thousands of others in Atlanta who waited for the weather system to pass and the congestion it had caused to ease. 

We were among the lucky ones and we reached Savannah at about 11 p.m. instead of the earlier expected 8 p.m.  Others in our conference delegation had flights cancelled and didn't arrive until the early morning hours today.  Was it worth the trouble of getting here?  You betcha!  More on that tomorrow. . .

35,000 feet somewhere over mid-America

I will be diverted for a few days from my Greek, Black Sea and yet to be discussed, Amsterdam as we are hurtling across the United States on Alaska Air heading to Savannah, Georgia. . .that's the land of Paula Dean and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil . . .and of course, Riverwalks, Historic Districts and much more.

A conference there prompts this trip so explorations will be squeezed in among learning new things - but Joel will be researching while I sit in sessions and then we will hit that southern deck runnin'.  To come along with us, check the blog periodically as I will be posting.

I find technology fascinating, like where do my tweets go, and who are the readers of this blog and how do we do all this without wires and cords connecting us to something?  But here I am 35,000 feet, flying faster than I would care to think of  and with a computer connected to nothing solid but when I push the button the post will appear, the subscribers will receive emails and others will find it as the most recent post. 

If any of you have recommendations for places to go, see, do and eat in Savannah, please send them or make a suggestion in the comments below. 

Greek Island Hopping: A Pansion Paradise

So many choices and not enough time to try them all.

That was the only dilemma we had in traveling in Greece without making advance reservations in October. As we got to the end of the month we did find a few places closing for winter, but still we had no difficulty in finding inexpensive -- and always, charming -- accommodations while traveling without set destination or itinerary.

The only place we booked in advance was the Hotel Manessi on this island of Poros because it was our first stop some 24 hours after leaving Seattle. Spontaneity has its place but not after a combo marathon plane, train, bus and ferry trip.  (The four nights we spent here at the end of the trip were booked when we walked up to their front desk.)

While we don't usually make reservations, we do our research by reading books, articles or the Internet (we enjoy the reviews on www.tripadvisor.com) or by simply talking to fellow travelers prior to arriving in a place. Even though we had an idea of what might be available. . .

Selection: A Matter of Serendipity:

Spetses: We'd planned to stay a night or two; we liked the website of a boutique hotel here.  As the ferry approached, we decided the waterfront hotels would be fine. After disembarkation Joel set out towards them, with me at my normal, ten paces behind him.

So I was the one, a man approached, offering a brochure saying, "If you are looking for a place, try mine - Villa Christina - it is only 500 meters up the road."  Although the waterfront hotels were fine, the brochure photos tempted and we set out to take a look at Villa Christina. It was so doggone charming (made more so by a courtyard filled with orange and lemon trees and brilliant bougainvillea blossoms) that we ended up staying there four nights at 35E, or about $50, per night. (We would never have found it on our own.)

Our Hydra hotel was a phone call away . This was our taxi across the channel.

Hydra - We had absolutely no plans to go there. Then we'd driven a narrow road through an olive grove late on a Sunday afternoon and ended up at a teeny dock where a small water taxi service operates between the Peloponnese and Hydra. The temptation was too great; we decided on the spot to go there so we certainly had no idea of where we would stay. This was spontaneous travel - even for us!  We asked the lady who'd sold us the taxi ticket for a recommendation. She made a quick call, (in the photo above) reporting that there was a nice place, no water view, available for 35E a night. 

When we asked how to find it, she replied, "He will meet you at the dock."  Sure enough, George, the manager, was at the dock to lead us to his Pension Erofili.  The rooms were spacious - we were tempted to stay longer but had a rental car to return so had to put this place on our 'return to' list!

We found our hotel in Aegina several blocks from the ferry dock

Aegina:  We again had a pension in mind when we arrived but scrapped that idea when  two local men explained that the place we were looking for was on the other side of the island, 45 minutes away by taxi.  So we walked the streets, bags in tow, until we passed a colorful building with the word "Hotel" on its front.  We spent two nights in this renovated neoclassical building built in the 1700's,  and now called  Aeginiti Koarchontiko.  Our rate here was 50E a night which included breakfast - fresh made cakes, cookies, pastries and a hot egg dish made by our hostess.

We've now spent four months of the last two years vagabonding through Greece, successfully using this 'go and find a place' system and will likely continue to do so until we are too old to haul bags around.   And this is what we do:

1.  Travel only in the low or shoulder seasons (early spring or late fall) -- we wouldn't try it in the middle of high season or at Easter or other holiday times when rooms are in demand (rates are also higher then). 
2.  Schedule our arrival for weekdays, as there is sometimes less availability on weekends.
3.  Ask to see a room or two (guidebooks recommend this as well) and if we aren't sure about a place we tell them we will give it some thought and may return. This isn't an attempt to get a lower price; sometimes we really don't know if we want Place A until we see Place B.
4. Pack lightly, using small carry-on-sized roller bags and smaller shoulder bags; this wouldn't work with lots of luggage.
5. Ask locals or other travelers to recommend places. We've had some of our best experiences following the advice of others.

Do you travel without reservations? Have you stumbled across a place that we should know about? Use the comment section and let us know.

Photos on this post are the property of Jackie Smith and can be used - only with prior permission.

The Bosphorus Strait - Fact and Fantasy

Our journey through the Bosphorus Strait from a practical standpoint took us to and from the Black Sea.  But it seemed as though this waterway was leading us on a magical journey into the land of myths and fables.

Rumeli Fortress in the morning mist

We'd left Istanbul in the middle of the night (by our standards) at 11 p.m. For that reason, I was alone on our balcony watching the lights of the Asian shore as the Westerdam, our 82,348-ton cruise ship, glided toward the Black Sea on a rather chilly night in early October. (Joel, a bit more sensible, opted to sight see on our early morning return trip.)

It took just a bit more than a half hour to traverse the 20-mile long Bosphorus, the waterway connecting the Sea of Marmara and the Black Sea. This narrow channel, the fabled waterway of Jason and the Argonauts, varies from a half mile to 1.5 miles in width, bisecting two continents, Europe and Asia. 

Leaving Istanbul's busy harbor, we began our journey by sailing under the Bosphorus Bridge; so grand a structure that it seems more an elaborate sculpture sweeping across the waterway than a major highway between the European and Asian sides of Istanbul.

At night it is as brightly lit as a theatre marquee.  Just as we passed under the bridge, a light show began above, magically, it seemed. The clear lights illuminating the cable spans chased back and forth, off-and-on like tumbling dominoes between the towering bridge pillars outlined in blue lights. (It probably happens every hour, but I'd like to believe it was done for our benefit - setting the scene for our magical, mythical journey.)

Allowing that myth and magic to guide my imagination, I envisioned the kings and queens and mythical beings who lived in the grand buildings lining the Asian shore; some of which were outlined with lights and others mere shadows against the dark sky. Tourist maps show that they were, in fact, -  hotels, the Beylerbeyi Palace, a school, a pavilion, and numerous unknown structures. Those buildings gave way to expanses of darkness,  then the few lights in a small fishing community and we were entering the Black Sea.

We need to return to towns along the Bosphorus

Our return trip was on a misty-almost-rainy early morning (before 7 a.m.) which again lent itself to a magical wrap that softened the views of villages and structures along the shore.  The ship's topmost deck was our viewing platform where, with a handful of fellow cruisers, we'd race from side to side so as not to miss anything along the way.

It was all too soon over and we were passing Istanbul's Blue Mosque and Topkapi Palace en route to Athens.  But this short stretch of waterway will draw us back one day. Next time, though, we'll use local ferries from Istanbul's harbor.  Guide books say ferries can take from 5.5 to 7 hours depending on the stops made along the way. . .now that will be a cruise!

Note: Photos in this post are the property of Jackie Smith, permission required prior to re-use.