This morning on our way into Charleston, we met Zan the taxi driver. He played basketball for George Williams (is that right? The old Concordia) from 1973-75. He drove a cab in New York for a while and lived for a time in England, where he says he put in to become a bobbie. He married a woman from there, referring a couple of times to “my wife who was out of England,” in a way that made me think she was just one in a long line of wives. He’s heading out to Vegas soon to drive a car there.
It took us three hours, but we bused out to Magnolia Plantation. First creature I saw there was a Canada goose, but I was so excited, I exclaimed: “Oh look! A Canada duck!” No one heard me but Melani, and she knows I’m dumb.
There’s so much more to say. We saw gators and egrets and eagles and turtles and the most beautiful swampland. We ate Gullah cuisine and shopped at Target, had a crazy bus driver and were grateful for the kindness of strangers.
We’re flying out tomorrow night, but there’s a big thunderstorm heading our way, so I have no idea how that’ll affect our flights. The thought of getting into a flying machine during a storm, as you can imagine, terrifies me. Ah well. One more margarita, a walk on the beach, and hopefully I’ll be able to sleep tonight.
This little heron was sweet enough to hang out while I took a few photos.
Life's a Trip 