“They grow up so fast. And also in strange, wheely directions.” – Old Sean
Back Stateside
And so, with much oddity, I am returned.
In 2021, I had planned a trip to Central and South America to teach myself Spanish through immersion. The expected trip would take up a whopping six months of my life, spanning a half dozen countries and pet projects.
But time is better at sprinting than I ever was. Instead, I ended up spending over nine months in the south. From Costa Rica to Belize to Ecuador to Peru to Brazil to Guatamala, I explored countries deeply with many odd-jobs interspaced between.
But finally I returned to Texas, in the United States, where I haven’t traveled a whit for two months. I landed in Austin, where my friend Ari met me to attend a spiritual healing festival on the outskirts of a rented farm. My next few nights were spent watching stage performances, huddling against a surprising Texas cold, playing drums near bonfires, chatting idly with the masses and poking my head into tiny healing ceremonies.
It was a strange transition, from Guatamala to this. It was a an odd shift from Latin America culture to counter-culture America. After this, Ari and I road-tripped back to Dallas with one another. As in previous eras, Sage allowed me to rent the small, cozy room upstairs.
It’s the closest I ever feel to home in the meandering lifestyle.
I Suppose This is America
Dallas was pleasant enough, but unremarkable from an adventure standpoint. I buried myself halfheartedly in online work and played with various cats. I called local friends daily and joined them on tiny outings. We walked past lakes, through reeds and sampled nearby restaurants. It was a quaint time to be alive in America, though rocketing gas prices gave everyone mild pauses.
I spent a bit of time meditating while doing a dishwashing job, eating up my podcast list which has grown beyond a casual pruning. By the end of my time in Dallas, I felt poised, like a hound ready to sprint.
And sprint I did. I wasn’t leaving the United States quite yet, but I bundled myself onto a flight to visit the East Coast.
I landed in Raleigh, North Carolina where I caught up with my aunt, uncle and cousins. There was a COVID case floating around the house, so I ended up wandering to another residence for sleep. I wasn’t there long, however.
The Ento Project
To the south, in Savannah, Georgia, my younger brother was graduating and participating in SCAD’s final film projects. His film, a creature creative storytelling piece called Ento rattled me to my core and back. It was a phenomenal piece of creative work, with cute creatures, great lighting and a compelling designs.
I hadn’t arrived in Savannah for simple celebrations alone, however. I was primarily poised to help my brother move to his new home in Atlanta, Georgia. But that trip was somewhat stratified, as my brother often had to wander off, saying final goodbyes to departing friends.
Exploring Savannah
In the interim, I got to know Savannah more intimately. I’ve been to Savannah, Georgia several times throughout my life, and it’s a worthy place to visit. The coast is a series of marshy beaches with water birds flitting around. The streets have a slightly French feel with balconies on colonial-styled houses. But most impressive of all are the trees, especially the oaks. They arc with neat curves widening ever-outward. The branches are absolutely caked with Spanish moss, tumbling off limbs like spiky curtains.
I started my walks around with my younger sister in the downtown area to sample Leopold’s Ice Cream. The ice cream parlor has a cult following so long that the line regularily trails out the door. The small venue is right next to the old film theater SCAD uses, making it a fantastic local icon.
Further down the street was the Totally Awesome Bar which was an awkwardly dark spiral staircase into retro-culture. Skeletons lounged under purposefully cluttered staircases and a back nook had 90’s memorabilia like Pokémon Cards and Nintendo games. A poor stand-up comedian was on stage tossing out risky jokes in the background, failing to get laughs from his audience.
On another jaunt, I followed my sister and aunt woke up before dawn could properly spear our eyes. We drove through the eastern marshlands to Tybee Beach, which is the peak outdoor location of Savannah. The beach itself is gorgeous, with fine sands, low dunes and a penchant for tide pools. Minnows wiggle on their sides, flashing silver when they skim through overly shallow waters, one eye panickily watching the sky. Best of all are the cargo ships. Savannah is a major shipping port and massive, multicolored vessels chug inland with Lego-like shipping containers packed tight on deck. When the ships turn down the obscured waterways, they look like hulking amphibious beasts grinding onto land.
We finished our morning at Tybee by visiting the mildly famous Tybee Island Light Station, a narrow, picturesque tower which dominates the surrounding island landscape. We passed back through town right as lunch was dawning and rain began hammering down. We ended up eating at a delightful little shop called Café M, which makes incredible French sandwiches. There’s a fair amount of wait time, but it’s an easy price to pay when watching a torrential downpour out of a double-pane, tree-shaded window.
Feast
At another point in the evening, the few members of my family in Savannah all joined together for a seafood farewell and congratulations dinner. The ShellHouse Seafood Restaurant, located somewhat outside of the city proved to have enormous portions. The back deck overlooking a fountain creates a never-ending rainbow during sunsets. We had my brother don his cap and gown for a somewhat reluctant photo-shoot.
Afterwards, my sister, aunt and uncle drove back north and I was left alone to help my brother pack up for his final week in University. However, I had long hours to myself, and quickly became accustomed to wandering the city like a impeccably-dressed vagrant.
First, I visited the holistic café Superbloom. Decorated with almost Wiccan knick-knacks, the shop has many unique mushroom-and-vegetable-based health drinks. I opted for a bright blue concoction called a Blue Butterfly, which dyed my tongue and made my day.
Strange Parks
A long walk later, I had wandered to Forsyth Park. The enormous greenspace is pleasant for it’s white fountains, strange obelisks and a special garden for blind people, known as the Fragrant Garden. The sensory garden was closed, but I was able to smell floral wafts when I pressed close to the iron bars of the small, enclosed space. I continued to walk around, but so many graduates from SCAD were doing photoshoots, I decided to move on to avoid photobombs. I grabbed a quick coffee and vegan burrito at The Sentient Bean, and wandered further south.
I continued to hike around the downtown area. Whenever I passed a random art gallery or antique shop, I popped in to browse. This crippled my walking distance, since I spend most of the day window-shopping.
When I was outside, I made sure to visit the various parks of Savannah. The Forest Gump Bench, where Tom Hanks forever redefined the nature of a box of chocolates, sits in one of these parks. Other parks have famous historical figures, great heaps of tended plants, a fair number of homeless people and surprisingly nice benches. Off at an angle exists the rather impressive and ornate Cathedral Basilica of St. John the Baptist.
Haunted Plots
My favorite place to visit (specifically at twilight) was the Colonial Park Cemetary. Savannah is a famously haunted town. Hearses often give ghost tours of the city, citing Native American ceremonies, early settler deaths, hotel hangings and the like. However, General Sherman absolutely ravaged the Southern Confederates during the Civil War, infamously desecrating the Colonial Park Cemetary. His efforts supposed riled up vengeful spirits still haunting the modern era.
The following morning, I wandered even further abroad, eager to visit the famous Wormsloe Historic Site. Aside from being a unique patch of history, Wormsloe is a famously beautiful area. The old anti-piracy and Native-American bunkers were built by early settlers to ward off attacks and dominate the Savannah rivers. These bunkers were primarily constructed out of shells, taken from huge shell middens (which are enormous piles of discarded shells, often created when generations of locals consume shellfish). Wormsloe also has various cabin and smithy recreations tucked through the trails. But best of all, Wormsloe is located down an enormous, straight road of broad oaks. The oaks, as with the rest of Savannah, are coated in Spanish Moss. The entire effect creates a ten-minute drivable tunnel of darkened foliage large enough for two cars to drive through in opposite directions.
A Study In Owning Things
Once I had finished my minor explorations of Savannah and promptly finished packing up all of my brother’s college goods, we began snoozing in preparation for a road trip the following day. Our plan (which failed) was to rent a moving truck and drive to Atlanta in the wee hours of the morning. I would drive the large truck, since I had experience with large vehicles from my time working as a Hub Driver in Autozone. My brother would follow behind with his girlfriend in his car.
Unfortunately, the Uhaul Rental Location had a crashed computer system, and we were forced to hunt around Savannah until lunchtime for a proper vehicle. Then, we jigsawed various boxes, furniture and electronics together in the back of the moving van. We were devoid of binding rope to lock many fragile objects in place, so I was forced to get creative with packing tape to make ghetto, sticky ropes.
But finally, we were on the road. It turned out to be a long slog to Atlanta, passing through a brutal storm. When we drew close to the city and filled up the vehicle, we groaned at the incoming gas prices. Three-quarters of a tank required a whopping $125 dollars.
But soon the van was unpacked, the car was safely parked, we had enjoyed a near-midnight meal at IHOP and my duty was done. I flopped onto an unmade mattress in the still-boxed-up new apartment, waiting for four AM to roll around for a bus to Raleigh.
So ends another leg of my journey. Time for another jaunt.
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written June 6th 2022
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Ten years ago, I abandoned my military surplus store backpack for a Farpoint 40 Osprey Travel Pack. I’ve never replaced my bag since. Two years ago, I bought two more Osprey Backpacks for my younger siblings on their first tour outside the country. I have nothing but praise for Osprey Products.
