Somehow, I have no photos of Savannah

My lack of photography in Savannah is one of my greatest disappointments of the whole trip. Because we LOVED Savannah. Except for the fact that it is downwind of a paper mill and the whole city does smell decidedly like sewage, it’s not, it’s just paper, but it doesn’t smell good. When I called home to tell my Dad we were in Savannah, he said only, “Cool! Which way is the wind blowing today?” Still, questionable aromas or not, Spanish moss, beautiful vegetation, fantastic townhouses, awesome stores, delicious food, I can’t say enough. We particularly enjoyed the Savannah Bee Company where we got to sample several different types of honey and other honey treats. And then Zach played in a huge fabric bee hive with some children while I did some honey related Christmas shopping for our parents. It was also in Savannah that Zach and I learned another difficult lesson: the absolutely essential effect eating regularly has on your ability to love your traveling companion. We did partake in local cuisine everywhere we went, Wendy’s and Bojangles trips aside, although we don’t have a Bojangles up north, so that can be forgiven, but for the most part we did our own cooking. Our grocery bills were stunningly small and we made delicious meals on our tiny camp stove. Some of our recipes are posted on my Examiner page. The Pear Pasta One Pot Wonder in particular is not to be missed. However, when you cook a delicious meal on a tiny camp stove in your vehicle, it is totally delicious, but then you have to stop driving, cook, and let the stove cool before you can safely pack up and drive some more. So, we often tended to forgo reasonable lunch times to get some more hours on the road into each day. And that meant that our blood sugars frequently dropped to the I’m-so-hungry-I-could-bite-your-head-off-and-then-eat-it level. And the best example of this was finding ourselves in Savannah at around 4pm, having eating only honey as a snack, starving, tired, and not being as loving to one another as we could have been. And when we noticed that we were grouchily staring one another down on the doorstep to the Lady and Sons, aka Paula Deen’s restaurant, we assumed it was a sign from God. It was a Sunday, so only the buffet was offered for about $16 per person, and since both Zach and myself ate about $60 worth of food, per person, we made out awesomely. I think I drank 3 sweet teas, ate 4 pieces of fried chicken (two legs, one wing, and a breast, yeah, that’s like a whole chicken, oh my) so much mac and cheese (which was surprisingly the only thing that wasn’t very good. Come on Paula, you love the butter, the mac and cheese is no place to skimp), collard greens with big, fatty chunks of ham hocks, fried okra, black eyed peas, and banana cream pie for dessert. Zach came in at a close second eating slightly less chicken, and passed up the okra for some pulled pork options. Thanks Paula!