« We're back | Main | Happy now? »

July 28, 2005

Vacation recap

So! The long-awaited vacation recap that I am sure you have all been madly refreshing my website in order to read!

Day 1. The rest of the family decided to drive down in one day, but because Keith had a few extra days off anyway, and because we didn't really want to drive 14 hours in one day with two small children in the car, we left two days before everyone else, on Friday. The idea was to camp the first night in West Virginia, camp the second night somewhere near Charlotte, NC, and then the third night we'd be at the vacation beach house with the rest of "the fam."

Part of this went off exactly as planned. We reached our campsite in Beckley, West Virginia well before nightfall, and pitched our tent with little difficulty. Unfortunately, the firewood situation was not as advertised (the AAA Campbook said "firewood available at site"); we asked where the firewood was located, and the guy in charge said we could either go buy some from a guy two miles down the road, or we could go in the woods and collect some deadfall. Some extremely wet, soggy deadfall. Keith valiantly gave it his best, but our fire that night never amounted to much. We made dinner over our propane stove instead.

After way too much time spent running around keeping the kids from diving into the sputtering fire, and also inflating our two air mattresses with the foot bellows, and also getting approximately 3,568 mosquito bites (3,562 of which were inflicted on me), we were ready for bed. We slept okay, except for when the jackass in the RV decided to blow his airhorn several times around 2 AM. It was really not the best campsite we've ever stopped at. Too crowded, crappy tent camping facilities (what kind of crap-ass campsite provides grill boxes for the RV campers but not the tent campers?), and way too many mosquitoes. But some amount of fun was had, and I think the kids really enjoyed themselves.

Day 2. The next morning we managed to get the tent and sleeping bags and air mattresses packed up, the car loaded, and everyone ready to go by 10 AM, which was some kind of minor miracle. Spent most of the morning driving through "Wild and Wonderful" West Virginia. West Virginia was actually less "Wild and Wonderful" than "Wet and Annoying," as we were delayed in stop-and-go traffic in the mountains for an hour or so due to a nasty car accident. Also it was pouring down rain. But Keith and I took turns alternately driving and reading a Terry Pratchett book to each other, and the kids mostly napped, so it was not really that bad.

Early in the afternoon we arrived in Charlotte, NC, our chosen stop for the evening. Originally we were going to camp, but after our less-than-stellar experience in Beckley, WV, I told Keith that I would kind of rather stay at a motel. He agreed wholeheartedly, and we found ourselves a Super 8 that had a pool. After checking in, we headed for downtown Charlotte and the "Discovery Place" museum.

Discovery Place is a lot like COSI (the Center of Science and Industry) here in Columbus, but of course they have different exhibits that the kids haven't seen before, and we all really had a lot of fun there. Stazi entertained herself in the water play area of the toddler section, and Zeke liked running around to the various exhibits finding ones that he could touch and play with (which is to say, most of them). It was a hoot. I was very glad we'd made the time to stop.

Then after we left -- we stayed until closing -- we headed back to our motel for some much-needed pool time. We briefly considered eating dinner out of the camping supplies we'd brought with us in our cooler, but then decided, screw it, we're going to Bojangles and getting some chicken 'n' biscuits. Bojangles was everything it's cracked up to be. I drank probably about half a gallon of sweet tea there. Traveling through the South is always my downfall, dietarily speaking, because I just cannot pass up sweet tea. It is so delightful. And no, dumping sweetener/sugar in unsweetened iced tea is not the same, dammit.

Anyway, Charlotte was great. I really liked all that we saw of it; it seems like a fun town. I think I probably liked it better than Columbus, to tell you the truth.

Day 3. The third day of our trip! We spent most of the afternoon conferring with my sister and brother-in-law, who were caravaning down separately with my mom, brother and girlfriend, and other brother (that made sense, right?) via cell phone, to determine whether we were within striking range of each other. So to speak. Keith and the kids and I had a good head start on them, starting from Charlotte instead of from southeastern Ohio, but they also got on the road about four hours earlier than we did. We still stayed ahead of them most of the day. At one point we were within about half an hour of each other, but then a poorly-installed bike rack on the back of my mom's car nearly fell off or something (I got conflicting stories on this) and this necessitated a lengthy and frustrating rest area stop.

The point being, we made it to the beach house about an hour or so before everyone else. I of course promptly dug out all of our swim gear and tossed the kids and myself in the beach house's private pool. It was so delightful. Then everyone else showed up, and we commenced taking over the beach house and going through all the cabinets and drawers and figuring out the cable TV lineup and so forth.

Day 4. Lounged in the pool. BBQ'ed. Lounged in the pool some more.

Day 5. Thanks to family members who happily and unhesitatingly volunteered to watch the kids for us, Keith and I were able to take a day to ourselves and go tour some stuff in Charleston that wasn't very toddler-appropriate. Our first stop was Ft. Sumter, which amazingly, Keith had never been to before. I say this is amazing because when I was a child, I think my family visited just about every Civil War-related historical site in the South, on various family vacations. You name the battlefield, and I can tell you how good the interpretive site is. (Well, as of 15-20 years ago. My info is getting a little outdated.)

Anyway, the trip to Ft. Sumter of course involves riding a boat, as the fort is perched on a small island at the mouth of Charleston Harbor. The boat ride was nice. My prior ferry experience having been the Washington State ferries that traverse Puget Sound, I told Keith that it was nice to ride a boat without having to wear arctic protective gear for once.

The fort itself was much as I remembered it from previous visits. Highlights included the 15-minute historical overview given by one of the park rangers, and also the cannonballs still lodged in the fort walls from the intense bombardment the fort endured for pretty much the duration of the Civil War. There was also an excellent view of Charleston and the harbor from the ramparts.

The original fort -- much of which was blasted into smithereens during the aforementioned bombardment -- was three tiers high, and featured massive cannons on each tier. I asked Keith why anybody ever thought it was a good idea to put massive cannons on the second and third story of a fort, and he shrugged and said, "Hell, the British had been putting massive cannons on the second and third levels of WOODEN BOATS for years."

Good point, I said.

After touring the fort, we got back on the boat to take us back to Patriots Point, which conveniently enough was also the location of the Maritime Museum, featuring a moored aircraft carrier, destroyer, Coast Guard cutter, and submarine. The submarine was obviously a must-see, and then we figured we'd give the destroyer and the cutter a miss and spend the rest of our time on the carrier. (I have this uncontrollable urge right now to yell "YOU SANK MY BATTLESHIP!!"

We visited the submarine first. It was a World War II-era diesel sub. I don't know how many of you have ever been on a submarine before, but it is awfully cramped in there. I try to imagine being on one of these things for more than twenty minutes or so, and it makes my skin crawl. Keith says it's really not that big a deal, but I don't know. It's pretty claustrophobic in there. I hit my head twice going through portals.

Keith could probably do a better write-up on the sub than I could, but I'll do my best. The most interesting part, for me anyway, was the fact that there were no actual crew quarters. There was no designated sleeping area on the boat. They just crammed bunked cots into any corner or crawlspace they could. There were cots on top of the torpedo tubes, cots next to the diesel engines, hell, there were probably cots in the galley area for all I could tell. The captain's luxurious quarters consisted of a small room about one-sixth the size of my freshman-year dorm room.

Keith told me once that on his sub, they would load up with fresh provisions at the beginning of a run (or a tour, or whatever the hell it's called), and would typically have way too many to be stored in the galley, so for the first several weeks, you'd be walking on jammed-together boxes of food provisions that were lining the passageways.

One nice little touch was that when you entered the engine room (again, I think that's what it was called?), there was the sound of a diesel engine playing on the sound system. A sign informed visitors that "you are listening to the sound of one diesel engine. Imagine this sound six times louder and you'll have an idea of what it was like to work in this area."

We emerged from the sub and headed straight for the USS Yorktown, which is a World War II-era aircraft carrier. The original Yorktown was lost at Midway, so the Yorktown we visited was actually sort of the "Yorktown II" but it did see service during World War II.

The historical interpreters, or whoever is in charge of putting together the signs and exhibits, did a bang-up job on the Yorktown. There was a lot of stuff to look at. The ship was almost shockingly spacious compared to the submarine we'd just been on; the bathroom had 15 or 20 sinks in it, for example. The sleeping quarters seemed huge. (Although of course everybody still only got a single cot in three-tier stacked bunks.)

We toured the innards of the ship for awhile, passing the galley, the admiral's cabin, the brig, and a whole bunch of other stuff that I'm sure I'm forgetting. There is an actual escalator in one part of the ship. At first we assumed that it was installed there for tourist purposes, but then we read the sign next to it, and apparently the escalator was put in in 1955, for the use of fighter pilots. Keith was rather disgusted by this and muttered something under his breath about how "either pilots' gear is pretty damn heavy or just like I always thought, those guys get ALL THE COOL STUFF."

There was a really interesting movie playing in the shipboard movie theater showing actual WWII footage of a kamikaze plane diving into the side of a carrier (the USS Franklin, if I recall correctly). There was also a huge exhibit devoted to the USS Franklin, showing the damage and explaining how she'd managed to limp home in more or less one piece even after suffering massive explosions and subsequent fires after the kamikaze hit. It was pretty cool.

After the Yorktown, I was feeling the effects of my by-now-severe sunburn, as I had stupidly forgotten to wear sunscreen that morning, so Keith and I decamped to a local seafood restaurant (sweet tea!) for a brief break before making the hour-long drive back to our beach house.

On arrival, the kids wanted to go to the beach (I think... I may have my chronology screwed up a little here) so we took them down to the ocean. Keith and Zeke made a nice sand castle, and I went on a walk with Stazi, and all was well until 1) someone's unleashed dog bounded over the dunes and happily pounced on Stazi, thus causing me to shriek in horror and shove the dog off Stazi and scream for help, which was probably a vast overreaction and caused me to be extremely embarrassed when the dog's owners came rushing over the dune and fell all over themselves apologizing, and 2) Keith and Zeke ventured a little ways into the ocean and promptly got stung by a jellyfish. Yes, both of them. So they were sent home ASAP to rinse off, while I collected Stazi and all of our beach gear and staggered home with everything in tow. (No permanent damage done to either father or son, incidentally.)

Day 6. Lounged at the pool. BBQ'ed. Lounged at the pool some more. Suffered through painful aloe vera applications. More pool lounging.

Day 7. Back to Charleston again (I think -- I may have my chronology screwed up here but it was definitely either day 7 or day 8) for a day of touring with the whole family in tow. The first stop was the South Carolina Aquarium. They had a touch tank where you could pick up various sea creatures, which Zeke kind of enjoyed, although he actually didn't want to touch any of the sea creatures. He was content to look at other people picking them up and touching them. We also viewed the jellyfish tank so that Keith and Zeke could see their evil nemeses. They look so peaceful and benign, floating in gentle circles inside their little tank. Which just goes to show, you can't judge a book by its cover, or a jellyfish by its blobbiness. Or something.

We also got to see the gigantic three-story saltwater tank, complete with sharks and eels. Zeke was entranced by this for about a minute and a half, which is actually a really lengthy time for him to be interested in something fish-related. We also stuck around for the daily fish feeding, which was pretty interesting. They feed the electric eels with fish stuck to the end of long wooden poles, because apparently the eels like to discharge electricity at feeding time. A well-meaning tourist asked the guide, "How do the workers keep from being shocked?" She said, very politely, "Well... um... they feed them with fish on the end of a long wooden pole. As you just saw."

Soon it was lunchtime and because some members of our party were becoming cranky and hungry, we adjourned for lunch. It was just as well, because I think Zeke and Stazi were about finished with the aquarium anyway. It was very cool, however, and I would highly recommend it to anyone who happens to be in the Charleston area.

After lunch we departed for Charleston. My sister and brother-in-law wanted to visit a "hippie store" in search of a Grateful-Dead-thematic tie-dyed onesie for their impending little one. Keith and I were interested in Charleston's Post Office Museum and Powder Battery (two different sites, although interestingly somewhat related), and Mom wanted to see the Open Market. As far as I can tell, my youngest brother mostly just wanted everyone to leave him alone so he could play with his GameBoy, but he is 11 years old and this is to be expected.

The kids both fell asleep in the car on the way from the restaurant to downtown Charleston, so I stayed in the car with them while Keith went to check out the historical viewing situation and everyone else went to the hippie shop. Half an hour or so later, we reconvened. Apparently the tie-dyed onesie didn't work out, although by all reports the shop was pretty cool anyway, and unfortunately the Powder Battery was closed for the day, but the Post Office museum was still open for business. (So to speak; actually admission is free, as it's just located in a room off the main lobby of Charleston's actual post office.)

So we woke up the kids and strapped Stazi into her stroller and headed for the Post Office museum. (I kind of lost track of what everyone else was doing at this point, but I think they went to go find the Open Market.) The Post Office museum was everything I hoped for and more. They had a lot of archival correspondence dating from the Civil War and even earlier. There were some old hand canceling machines and a replica of the original pigeonhole cabinet they used for sorting mail.

Oh, and back when I said that the post office and the Powder Battery were kind of related, that's because Charleston's original postmaster was also in charge of collecting a tax in gunpowder from every ship that entered the harbor.

After the Post Office museum, we went back to the car. Several members of our party (okay, it was me and Zeke, I'll admit it) really needed a bathroom break, so we took advantage of the nearby modern art museum. The docent (is that the right word?) politely informed us that there were only 10 minutes before closing, but I said, "that's okay!" and we headed, somewhat embarrassedly in my case, to the restrooms. Afterward, I did show Zeke some of the statues and paintings, and he actually showed some interest in a few of them, so it wasn't a total waste of time. And Keith made a guilt-induced gift shop purchase, also.

Then, back in the car to the beach house and more poolside lounging. Man, I miss that pool.

Day 8 and 9. Beach. Pool. Nap. Pool. Beach. BBQ. Pool.

Day 10. The end to a long but mostly pleasant trip. We were originally going to take two days to drive back, but at the last minute decided, screw it, let's just see if we can push through in one day instead. So we caravaned with everyone else, at least until the car with my two brothers and mom in it inexplicably pulled away from the caravan when my sister and brother-in-law (the caravan leaders) pulled into a rest area for a quick bathroom break. So for the rest of the trip it was just a two-car caravan, which is really just as well when you consider it. We arrived back home in Ohio around 8 PM or so, and were happy to discover that our house was still in one piece and that the pumpkin vines had not yet taken over the entire place (although they're giving it the old college try).

So that's our trip! Next year's vacation is probably going to be Lewis and Clark-thematic. It'll be fun, but boy am I going to miss the private pool.

Posted at July 28, 2005 10:40 AM

Posted by: Annie at July 28, 2005 6:11 PM

Name:

Email Address:

URL:
Remember Me? YesNo

Comments: