Savannah, Georgia is a very interesting experience. There are thousands of towns along the east coast that have buildings almost as old as this great country - but in Savannah, there is something different about Savannah. When you walk down the main streets, finding memorials to war and statues of great heroes of the past you cannot help but feel like it was only yesterday they were erected. Though people are not dressed in costume they all play a part in the reenactment; as though nothing has changed for the past two hundred years and no one has any intention of changing. Yes, restaurants, stores and people go in and out of the town but the feel stays the same, the smell is two hundred years old. The great bowing trees that make a cover the sidewalks and houses, are dripping with Spanish Moss in a way it seems to keep the atmosphere steadily moving on the same as it has always been. The houses on the main street all have little plaques that read their years, some dating back to the 1700's, reminding you of just how old the city really is and how alive it still is today. Throughout Savannah there are little parks that make a sort of a break in the middle of the houses, a little resting stop for walkers. It is here that most of the memorials and statues are placed and is here where the tourists with their whit tennis shoes and visors congregate to get every little piece of info. Not wanting to be caught with the tourists I shoved my hands in my pockets as I continued on past the third park and down the fourth street on the left, just as the concierge told me. Every time I blinked I kept my eyes closed for a split second longer so that I could imagine a bit of what it would have been like, you can still hear the horses hooves and people chattering...the smell I imagined would be similar back then though now it has a bit of industrial flavor that is not all unwelcome but just enough change to ground your thoughts. The river was in sight when the street broke the line of houses and I paused a bit every time just to let the image sink in. My hair sticking to my face, I pressed on to the little cafe, smiling every so often at anyone who would look at me, smelling every single shop and restaurant that I passed, wanting to walk in and try every single one of them.
The cafe was a small thing on the corner, a little bakery that had been there forever. I ordered some sandwiches and chatted a bit with the kid behind the counter before starting to head back through old town Savannah to the hotel and to my family; this was the first vacation I have been on since school started and they couldn't have picked a better place. Before I turned back towards the third park I couldn't help after being visually taunted a bit to turn down one of the roads that led to the river. Though it wasn't too much of a rebellious decision it gave me some sort of high exploring for myself a bit. I don't know if it was the sky getting darker or what but I noticed that the houses didn't get much lighter as I continued to walk. It wasn't far but it felt like I had entered into another territory, not unhappy but I think it just felt older. I got to the end of the street and slowly climbed down some perilous stairs that had been there obviously since the city began. With the help of the railing I finished scaling the stairs on the ancient wall and avoided the gaping holes in the cobblestones as I shuffled myself to the big chain fence that separated the river parking from the street. With no surprise the biggest thing that caught my eye was a big globe that was cut in half as you looked out towards the river. I swung both legs over and walked up to it, stepping between it carefully like it was going to clamp down on me like a clam. There were names written of men that had served in World War II, men that gave their lives for our country in the war that split the world in half. It was quite an experience for me. My brother is now in the Navy and I knew that someday he might have his name written on a plaque somewhere commemorating his life. I stayed there for a while, letting the thoughts of all that have walked through this open tunnel hug me while I let a tear cool my cheek. I left a thought and a prayer as I walked out the other side. It was right then that I noticed a group of about six wanderers sitting on and around a bench, playing their various instruments. Some were young and some were a bit older but they were all signing together and making music. The street lights had been on for a while but just at this moment they were starting to show their presence as the sun began to sink towards the horizon. I could hear laughter from the river boat just a little ways up and music blaring in a yellow feel, but it didn't drown out the wanderers. I am more used to sea air now than river but to me this smell felt like home, the muddy texture and wet breeze took me back a little as I watched the smoke stacks push out their black clouds. I realized I liked being on this side of the river, I looked out and didn't mind staying put right where I was instead of trying to reach the other place I could see. The river people singing me into history and cobblestones beneath my feet brought me to a place I knew was timeless - This is why I travel.
Experiencing life through travel is one of the most intriguing thing about life. I know that God wanted me to travel because there is not place that feels more like home than when I am able to experience a culture to its fullest. I am taking a class called "Travel Writing" that pushes me to experience travel and to write about it so here I am, for some of you it has been years, writing again in this blog. I have been learning from the reading so much about style and experience. Two people can experience a place and their experiences may be similar but their writings are going to be vastly different. Some people write in narrative - which is my favored method of writing - and some like to write down the facts and all the little things they learned about the place. I read about a man's trip to Cuba with his wife and it was breathtaking how he described life, how he narrated his trip. I have the travel bug so when people narrate things I am able to experience what they experienced even through their eyes. Imagination is the most freeing thing that we have as humans because no matter what people do to us they cannot take away our thoughts, they can control them to a certain extent but we always have the ability to imagine things. So thus starts this travel blog, "Today Is the Day" is my experiential gift to you :)
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