And just like that, a whirlwind month in Charleston has come and gone. Well, Sylphide was there for a month anyway. I spent one of those weeks in Nowhere, Ontario for the annual company meetings, and I stopped back in Hometown, NY to visit and take care of some appointments.
When I returned to Charleston and Sylphide, Mom and Stepdad Marc came for a visit. They stayed aboard for about a week, and what a magnificent week it was. We squeezed in as much touristy goodness as we could. We took a bus tour of town, ate delicious food at a variety of places and went to the City Market, where all of my souvenirs were edible and of questionable nutritional value. We took the ferry to Fort Sumter, toured USS Yorktown and USS Laffey at Patriots Point, ate some more, took obligatory selfies in front of the Pineapple Fountain, helped stand an impossibly drunk and vehemently drooling man back up after he fell over in the street, saw rainbow row, and had a generally excellent time.
One of the few nights we stayed in for dinner, we decided on a recipe for pork tacos that I’d been wanting to try. I found the recipe in a cook book that everyone in my family has and loves, so we were all looking forward to it. Well, after lovingly crafting these beautiful things, we sat down to eat, and our faces promptly melted off. Remember what happened to that guy in the Indiana Jones movie, when he opened up the Ark? That. That’s what happened to us. Like hot cheese off an unsupported floppy slice of New York pizza.
Turns out, we were only supposed to add a tablespoon of the ‘Chipotles in Adobo Sauce.’ We added the entire seven ounce can.
At least now I feel brave. I crushed two of the nuclear bastards. I got a merit badge and everything. I’ll be trying that one again for sure.
My aunt Jill also joined us for the last few days that Mom and Marc were aboard. The rain came down in sheets from the time her plane landed until they were all twenty miles into their drive home, and despite the fact that Sylphide was now decidedly at full capacity, we had a marvelous time. We ate some more delicious food, toured a couple of Charleston’s famous houses, drank more beers, and managed to have only one close call with a bar fight. It’s not my fault, I promise.
I met up with an old friend, and got to meet his 438587248.56 children.
I went to my first ever political rally. I saw Mayor Pete on primary day, just before he threw in the towel.
I tried, and failed, to find Bill Murray.
I narrowly avoided a power pedestal fire when 50-30 adapter the marina loaned me tried to melt itself.
Despite this near miss, I liked Charleston Harbor Marina. I came to think of C dock as my neighborhood. It was fairly quiet for most of the time I was there, but it was starting to get busy just before I left. Everyone I met there, locals and transients alike, were all pleasant and friendly, and very good neighbors. I’m glad I decided to stay there, and have every intention of going back.
I think the only thing I’ll do differently next time is that I won’t pay the extra 300 bucks per month for the resort amenities fee. It seemed like a great idea at the time, but I only took advantage of it once. With only a couple of days left before departing, I made it a point to jump in the pool. It was refreshing, but as three hundred dollar experiences go, I’ve had better.
All in all, I couldn’t be happier with my stay in Charleston. I enjoyed it immensely. It’s a beautiful city, brimming with character and personality, and so many opportunities. There was never any shortage of things to do, places to go, stuff to see. The people love their city, and it shows. In my experience, it’s rare when a place lives up to my expectations, but this is one of those places.
I departed Charleston in convoy with some new friends, but I’ll save that for the next one. This one is too long already. Thanks for readin’ y’all.
Now go wash your hands.