Maybe the best town in USA?
11.05.2010 - 12.05.2010 88 °F
Room 617, Avia Hotel, Savannah, Georgia. 6.17om, Thursday 1/5/10
But before we cover Savannah, I have to go right back to the flight from Heathrow. The story in pictures:-
By the way, it took AA half the time that Iberia took to board a small airbus to board this 777:-
Loads of room and excellent seats which can convert into a bed and do lots more besides. In fact there is a 10 minute long video to watch to learn about the seats and other devices. We preferred the seats and the layout to BA's. Meanwhile, Bob waits for his glass of champagne:-
How far?! This was not the route.
Menu for our main meal:-
The starter: the Apple soy-marinated beef, despite suffering from intense pretentiousness, was absolutely delish.
Bob said his "Maple Dijon Chicken" was very nice.
John's Beef Filet was one of the best steaks he's ever had. How's that for airline food?
Our hotel at DFW airport. A haven of large beds!
Our little jet for Savannah:-
Dallas from the air. Now you can spot JR. See him?
Nice individual leather seats and a half-empty plane makes for a pleasant 2 hour flight with FREE beverages (one class, no over-stated food on this flight):-
Savannah airport. Can you believe this is an airport?
Our super, new car. A GMC Acadia. Great! A big American car. None of your Japanese rubbish:-
Camp or what? Our room at the Avia Hotel, right in the Historic District of Savannah
Savannah is drop-dead gorgeous. More about it tomorrow. By the way, if we come home dripping with Spanish Moss, just remember it's not parasitic and neither is it moss:-
Bill Bryson wrote in his side-splitting book (I've been reading the theatre critics in the Evening Standard), "The Lost Continent:-
I headed east for Savannah, down Interstate 16. It was a 173-mile drive of unspeakable tedium across the red-clay plain of Georgia. It took me five hot and unrewarding hours to reach Savannah. While you, lucky reader, have only to flit your eyes to the next paragraph.
I stood agog in Lafayette Square in Savannah, amid brick paths, trickling fountains and dark trees hung with Spanish moss. Before me rose up a cathedral of exquisite linen-fresh whiteness with twin Gothic spires, and around it stood 200-year-old houses of weathered brick, with hurricane shutters that were still clearly used. I did not know that such perfection existed in America. There are twenty such squares in Savannah, cool and quiet beneath a canopy of trees, and long straight side-streets equally dark and serene. It is only when you stumble out of this urban rain forest, out into the open streets of the modern city, exposed to the glare of the boiling sun, that you realise just how sweltering the South can be.
Right, time for dinner.