April 12, 2008

Let me sum up this three-day trip thusly: Civil War history, good meal, historical buildings, window shopping, Civil War history, good meal, carriage ride, good meal. By design, this trip to Charleston focused around historical sites, wandering by sometimes-quirky shops, and seeking positive culinary experiences. Which, one sees in retrospect, was ideal for a tourist area with not much else to offer.

Following an uneventful Civil War walking tour (“This is where the building USED to be”) and our first bite of fried green tomatoes, we strolled around the shops, looking for evidence of a vibrant community. Now, I have been a Charleston aficionado-from-afar for quite some time. In my mind (backed by almost no research), the word Charleston was code for a walking-scale community filled with creative types and a jumble of interesting stores. Disappointingly, the interesting stores part is really the only accessible area of historic Charleston – 80% antiques stores ($400 pillow, anyone?) and few homes. I had the feeling that the multi-millionaires who could afford homes in this historic district would rather not rub shoulders with starving artists and lowly civil servants.

Dinner was an enjoyably slow-paced feast of lowcountry goodness at a microbrewery. The wall of doors opened, a gentle breeze and electric-blue night air soothed us into food comas.

The next day, appropriately enough, was the anniversary of the start of the Civil War, so naturally we headed out to Fort Sumter, the site of the first attack by Confederates. Costumed interpreters loaded their guns and posed for pictures amid the ruins, which boast not much beside cannons and pictures of what used to be. We did see dolphins cavorting in the bay, though!

Time to eat again! Hurry, hurry, hurry over to the Hominy Grill (“Grits are good for you”) to get our names on the list. Uber-popular with a long wait outside, Hominy Grill was a glimpse into our potential lives as Charlestonites. Some girls biked over, dropped their bikes against the fence, and snacked on juicy fruit while waiting. One scruffy guy, obviously with his bandmates, saw a friend and talked up last night’s multi-keg party. (Who has keg parties?) A young woman in a sundress bounced a baby on her knee while strangers sat down next to her and started to chat. Finally snagging a table, we ordered fabulous modern takes on down-home brunch. The whitewashed tin ceiling tiles and beaded board completed the cottage-y feel. THIS, Charleston, is what you need to offer all over the place.

Next up was a carriage ride (stinky!) to look at some big, old houses. Hooray! Then on to the original Charles Towne site, the colony that despite swampiness and pumas went on to greatness. This was no Jamestown (a lone recreated building attempted to represent the time period), with the historical information somewhat lacking.

Our last day, we had just enough time to cram in two very different plantation sites. The first, Drayton Hall, stands alone amid the former fields with nary a stick of furniture on-site. The distinguished guide was our only entrée to the former glory of this house. The second, Middleton Place, was a tourist family’s dream. You could spend all day here, taking carriage rides around the entire marshy property and going on walks such as the African American Focus Tour, Nature Walk and Garden Overview Tour. As it was, we toured the tiny remaining building, the original side house to a grander central home that was burned to the ground by Yankees. Two famous Middletons lived there – Henry, President of the First Continental Congress, and Arthur, a signer of the Declaration of Independence. The highlight here was a circle of stableyard shops demonstrating period industry, like pottery, candle-making, and coopering. Many educational pictures later, we were finally on our way back to the airport.

I can’t say our long-awaited Charleston trip was negative, only slightly disappointing. With so much of our country’s history and charm being replaced by subdivisions and shopping malls, I had hoped Charleston would stand tall and proud as a true urban/historical community. It seems that somewhere along the way in that city’s long history, that ideal was replaced. I hope it is renewed.