April 27, 2012
For 91 Days, the southern jewel of Savannah, Georgia, was our winter home. From beautiful squares to historic houses, unforgettable restaurants and an eccentric cast of characters that could be (and actually is) straight out of a novel, we tried to capture everything that makes Savannah so special. Start reading from the beginning of our journey, or skip to the end. Visit the comprehensive index of everything we wrote about, or just check out a few posts, selected at random, below:
Updated 2016 Edition!! We’ve converted our three-month blog about Savannah into an exclusive e-book. For 91 Days in Savannah contains all of our articles and 195 of our best pictures, in full-color. With categorical and alphabetical indexes, locations, links to the original blog posts, and cross-references spread throughout, the e-book is a perfect companion for a trip to Savannah.
Laid out in 1733, Ellis Square has the distinction of being one of Oglethorpe’s original four squares, along with Johnson, Telfair and Wright. It also has the distinction of being the most singularly ugly of all Savannah’s squares.
While we were living in Spain, eating incredible, organic dishes fresh off the fields, the Paula Deen Phenomenon was sweeping America. And by the time we moved to Savannah, she had become a bona fide celebrity.
As 2011 rolled in, we had some things to celebrate… mainly, the fact that we still had another month in Savannah! We’d been having a great time, and were in no hurry to leave. Our New Year’s celebrations had been just like Savannah itself: weird, hilarious, a little disturbing, and unforgettable. And as we stumbled home after a wild party, the city showed us a new trick: a dense fog had settled in on the streets. Oh Savannah, stop being so gorgeous!
We took a trip to Beaufort, South Carolina, which is about an hour north of Savannah. This small coastal town makes an ideal excursion, but as I realized after receiving a number of puzzled looks, it’s pronounced “Beww-furt” and not “Bow-fort.”
I clearly remember the first time we entered Savannah, and turned onto 37th Street, where we would be living for three months. Huge oak trees canopied the street and random rays of sunlight squeezed past the Spanish moss, which hung apathetically off branches like the embodiment of sorrow. Years from now, when I shut my eyes and think “Savannah,” Spanish moss washed in sunlight will be what I see.
The Pirate’s House, on the northeastern corner of Savannah, is thought to be Georgia’s oldest building, and is certainly one of its most famous. Captain Flint, from Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island, is said to have died here after drinking too much rum.