10-year Reunion // Charleston, SC
Charleston has a funny place in my heart. It's a curious blend of romantic, hipster, rustic charm with a dash of very conservative, Southern thinking.
Michia (the boyfriend) and I visited in April 2017 to attend his 10-year high school reunion and to visit his mom, who lives in Mt. Pleasant, just outside of the city. No trip to Charleston is complete without a trip to each of several beaches, namely Isle of Palms and Folly Beach, and we spent about a day at each of these, first with Michia's family, then with his college friends. But before that, we spent our first sunset romping around Sullivan's Island with Nelson, the family dog, who loved every second of it.
In stark contrast to the concrete jungles that compose most other skylines, downtown Charleston is comprised of short, quaint buildings — all made to be shorter than the tallest church steeple. The roads are made of cobblestone, and horse-drawn carriages take tourists down the streets in constant rotation. The romance of it all was too much to resist, and my boyfriend took me on one of these rides.
There are about 5-10 companies that service these tours, and they are all situated around the downtown square, selling tickets from the backs of carriages (such good marketing!).
They all cost roughly the same (from what I could tell), but more research can be done here.
On the tour, we learned about Charleston's history, Colonial style. The city's architecture is phenomenal, built in styles from many different eras, and the historicity of the city is palpable.
Even the old city jail's architecture was beautiful.
All this, set against the sound of hoofbeats, interrupted only by jokes and pauses for the horses to pee. All the tour guides carry "ball-and-flag urine markers" to note the soiled spots for street cleaners who come around later. The things I've never thought about.
Most of Charleston's tourist attractions are fairly concentrated in the downtown area, so we decided to go for a 2.5 mile stroll to see it all. We started at the Charleston City Market, where people go for sweetgrass baskets, flowers, and various other weaves.
Shops of Charleston-branded garments, silver jewelry, local paintings, leather wallets, and everything in between line the walls, with people filling in the gaps. Callie's Hot Little Biscuit (see my Charleston food post), can also be found in the indoor section of this market. If you're ever in Charleston, this shop (and its ham and cheese biscuit) is absolutely not to be missed. Those biscuits are some of the best things I have ever eaten.
From there, we made our way past the post office to Waterfront Park, where we watched someone drop a giant chunk of shaved ice, staining the wooden planks a bright, cherry red. Just beyond that was a romantic boardwalk, where one can look out at the Arthur Ravenal Bridge, which connects Charleston with Mt. Pleasant, the neighboring city where Michia's mom lives.
You can also see the famous Pineapple. I have no idea why it's famous, but everyone in Charleston says you have to see the Pineapple.
Just beyond the pineapple is beautiful Rainbow Row. Colorful, romantic, and incredibly unique, I felt so lucky to explore it with my love.
Our stroll took us to the end of the waterfront up to Kings Street, where we shopped for a bit and ate some amazing chicken.
The bars in the Upper Kings Street area are also "the place to be" in the evenings; many a bride and her entourage make quite the seen, drinking and even crying their bachelorette parties away.
Over the course of the day, I became increasingly aware of how few Asians there were. I saw maybe four others, all day, and I remembered a tourist video of Charleston Michia and I had watched: in it, every person was white, with the exception of one African American male who was a service worker. I'd heard stories of separatism being so severe, but had never really seen it until this trip. Race issues have been on my (and the nation's) mind recently, and they certainly add a layer of complexity to the history of Charleston.
Complexity well displayed in another Charleston attraction: plantations. Michia, his mom, and I visited the Magnolia Plantation the next day; a prime example of wealth and charm darkened by slavery and cynicism.
The plantation itself is beautiful, with grounds stretching over 464 acres of gardens, marshes, and river. It even has a petting zoo with deer, peacocks, falcons, and a vicious turkey: he kept running us down for food.
I also garnered a new appreciation for swamplands — something I wasn't sure I would ever have said.
They're uniquely beautiful, and are home to such amazing creatures, especially birds.
If you go on a boat tour through the plantation's swamps, you'll see even more.
The main reason for our visit, however, was to attend Michia's high school reunion, which took place at an old classmate's (Josh's) rustic and homely bar, Wine & Company. Josh is incredibly knowledgeable about wines, and a splendid host. Even Yelp sings his praises.
As I met his friends and high school classmates, I was surprised by how different their experiences and priorities were from my own. In San Francisco, people catch up by trading their latest stories of international travel and cryptocurrency investments; in Charleston, people focused more on families and their local loves, and their lives reflect this: of the thirty or so who came, Michia and I were the only ones who weren't married; many even had kids. In these moments of interaction, I was confronted with my substantially different upbringing and incredible privilege. I felt anew my gratitude for being able to and to enjoying traveling and seeing the world.
Our last stop of the trip was Angel oak, a giant oak tree that can be seen on all sorts of Charleston memorabilia. It's ancient, and a little out of the way, but an often-frequented tourist attraction.
This trip gave me a new understanding and deeper appreciation for Michia. Although he considers himself a New Yorker at heart, Charleston was where he grew up — where he was taught and shaped into the man he is today.
I got to see his old home(s), where he pointed out houses of people of his past. I got to see his college, where he showed me his CS classrooms and dorm. I got to see his college house, where his neighbors complained because his house was always too loud.
And we ate the food of his childhood. We ate at Waffle House (something I had never heard of), where we got "his usual" chocolate pancakes, and hashbrowns, smothered, covered, and chunked, as he told stories of his teenage years. We ate a chicken sandwich from Zaxby's (another I had never heard of) where he frequented often in college. We searched all over town for boiled peanuts, which he would eat at the Charleston RiverDogs' games. It was a trip where I, someone lucky enough to be in Michia's present and future, got to taste and relive with him just a little bit of his past. And I will forever be grateful.