CHARLESTON TEA PLANTATION, “AMERICA’S ONLY TEA GARDEN”

The first “tea facts” I learned today surprised me: 

Percentage of tea consumed in the U.S. as iced: 80%

Percentage of tea consumed in South Carolina as iced: 99% - and I am certain that close to 100% of that is “sweet tea”, the default in the south. 

Charleston Tea Plantation is exactly the type of place I like to visit WITHOUT Odel.  Being a tea drinker and a gardener, this place neatly combines two of my interests – and none of his.  As I dropped him off at a nearby golf course, he was happy to wave goodbye as he headed to the pro shop and I headed off down the road.

I wound my way 15 miles down the Maybank Highway, to Wadmalaw Island, one of the many sea islands in this area of South Carolina.  Huge trees crowded the road, dripping Spanish moss.  Azaleas and dogwood sparkled against the many variations of green alongside the road, and traffic began to thin and slow.  By the time I turned into the driveway of the Charleston Tea Plantation, the southeastern springtime had worked it serene magic.

I was the first visitor this morning, arriving at 10 am as the gates were opened.  By 10:20, I was out on the trolley tour – just me and the driver/guide!  We meandered the sandy roadway of the large plantation slowly, the guide teaching me about tea, what the plants like (heat, humidity and water, all of which this area has in abundance), how it is grown and harvested, and the history of the plantation.  

The most amazing thing he told me: it take just 19 people to run the business and, of those, only THREE to tend and harvest the plants!  The machine used for harvesting is the only one of its kind, custom made, and one person does all the harvesting.

Back at headquarters, I took the video-guided factory tour.  No processing going on today (the first harvest of the year won’t be for another 6 weeks or so), but the video screens were informative as I walked along big windows next to the processing equipment.  Five pounds of fresh tea leaves yield 1 pound of processed tea in an amazingly quick and simple procedure.

By the time I had spent another half hour wandering the grounds, rocking in a comfortable chair on the front porch while I sampled iced teas, and shopping in the very well stocked gift shop, the parking lot had filled.  Time to be on my way.  I opened the sunroof, popped in a CD, and continued on down Maybank Highway, just “taking a drive”. 

When I was a kid, growing up in southern California and then Oregon, “taking a drive” was something we did for entertainment.  We might go to a park, or to the beach… or to a waterfall in the Columbia River Gorge, where we ate our picnic lunch in the car while we watched the rain.  Once we “took a drive” on Christmas morning to see the flooding going on in Portland, where we lived at the time!  These days, “let’s take a drive” still sounds (usually) like fun – as it was today, driving down the road with my windows down, the scents of roadside blossoms and fresh sea air filling the car.

A couple more miles brought me to the end of the pavement, when a sand road continued on… the “what have you gotten us into now” point for Odel, who was blissfully unaware of his Jeep’s tires leaving pavement.  :)   Another mile and the road ended at a dock populated by shrimp boats and a decrepit shed, sea gulls screeching and a fat old lab wagging his tail in interest at the sight of something new in his world. 

I turned around, turned on the GPS, and tapped “attractions”.  Up popped “Angel Oak”.  Hmmmm.  I’d passed a sign with that name on it on the way to the tea plantation. Off I headed.  Another dirt road, another mile, and I turned into Angel Oak Park.  Wow!

The Angel Oak (named after the Angel estate on which it stood) is estimated to be over 1,500 years old, one of the oldest living organisms east of the Mississippi.  East of the Mississippi?  I had to wrack my brain to figure out what might be older west of the Mississippi… ah, yes, redwoods, and bristlecone pines. 

Still, the Angel Oak is mighty old, and beautifully impressive.  It’s longest branch is 89 feet; as you can see, many of the branches are propped up or supported, and some just lay on the ground.  Again, the experience was serene and relaxing, wandering around this ancient being on a perfect spring day.

Just before I left the Angel Oak, Odel called to say he would be finished with his golf game in half an hour.  Perfect timing!  I drove past the 18th fairway just in time to honk at him as he approached the green.  Today, a good time was had by all.  :) 

BUSY, AS USUAL – CHARLESTON, SC

I LOVE Charleston!  The history is fascinating, the homes unusual and captivating. I’ve sprinkled photos throughout the blog – hover your cursor over any photo for a caption, or double-click to enlarge the photo.

I would love this city even more if we had jet-packs for getting around.  The traffic into, inside of, and out of Charleston is the worst we have seen in… I can’t even remember how long!   Our RV park is 11 miles from downtown Charleston, on a major state highway, but it takes a minimum of 30 minutes to get into town – and heaven help you if you leave downtown later than 3 pm (we made that same mistake two days in a row). 

We arrived at Oak Plantation RV Park (click here to read our review) on Wednesday afternoon with a long list of things to do/places to see.   A trip to Costco was on that list (see, it’s not all fun!) and Costco turned out to be just 5 miles away, so we knocked that off the list immediately.  By the way, it looked just like every other Costco we’ve seen – no porticos, pediments, or piazzas!  I also made a reservation for a carriage tour of Charleston for 10 am on Friday.  The company we used (on Ron’s recommendation), Classic Carriages, runs one Adults-only tour per day.  Since it is Spring Break and there are kids EVERYWHERE, we opted for that one.

On Thursday morning, we headed downtown.  Agenda: figure out where to park to catch our carriage tour and how long it would take us, then head to the headquarters of Ft. Sumter National Park to brush up on our Civil War history.

We would have been completely lost without our GPS.  These pre-Revolutionary cities built on peninsulas surrounded by ocean, rivers, swamps and bogs don’t lend themselves to easy navigation.  There were streets downtown that barely accommodated the width of the Jeep!  It is crazy and challenging.

By the time we located our carriage stop for the next morning’s tour, all we wanted to do was find a parking space, abandon the Jeep, and set out on foot.  That’s what we did, spending the next hour exploring the Ft. Sumter National Park headquarters (we plan to take the boat trip to the fort on Tuesday).  The displays were great, explaining in detail the events and politics leading up to the Civil War (which began with the shelling of Ft. Sumter).  Way better explanation than what I (presumably) learned in school!

Then we wandered off downtown, hungry.  We had a fresh, delicious lunch at Basil, a Thai restaurant recommended by Ron, viewed the sun-worshipping co-eds from the College of Charleston on the grass at Marion Square (Odel lingered rather longer than I), and took dozens of photos.

Spring has arrived in Charleston.  The graceful, creamy dogwood are breathtaking.  Great cones of purple are fattening on the wisteria vines, and the azaleas are mounds of brilliant blossoms.  Some of the trees are fully leafed out, but many look fuzzy, covered with tiny, vibrant green leaf buds.  Pollen falls as a fine, yellow dust, coloring everything, a fresh coat delivered daily.

We finally left the downtown area around 3:30 pm, coming face to face with the reality of Charleston commute traffic.  Stop-and-go, gridlocked intersections (in spite signs warning of penalties for blocking intersections), confusing ramps leading to bridges crossing rivers… once again, the GPS was our savior.  We were very happy to get home.

We obviously hadn’t learned our lesson, though - at 5 pm we were heading back out onto Hwy 17 (traveling AWAY from Charleston) to do a little sightseeing, then celebrate our anniversary (prior blog) at the Fat Hen restaurant.  Have I harped on the traffic enough already?  Let’s just say it is astonishing!

On Friday morning, we left home at 9 am, allowing one hour to drive 11 miles, park, and find our carriage.  Since we’d already checked out the route and parking, we were right on time.

All carriage tours in Charleston (and there are MANY different companies) proceed from their loading zone to a tiny shed near the historic market.  At this point, they turn in a passenger count (they pay a tax per passenger) and receive a carriage license with a number on it, 1 through 4.  That number indicates which route the carriage will take.  If the guide deviates from that route, s/he pays (personally) a $1100 fine!  

Only 20 carriages are allowed out on the tour routes at one time so, if 20 tours are already out, carriage 21 has to wait until a carriage returns – and the license is passed along.  These two things (stick to the specified route, and no more than 20 tours out at a time) are designed to keep the residents of Charleston from going berserk, I’m sure, as the carriages definitely add to the congestion and slow-mo traffic.

As we waited for our license (delivered when a returning tour driver ran to the shed to turn his license in), our guide explained all of this to us.  She pointed out that tourism makes up 50% of Charleston’s economy – and mentioned to us that Easter and Thanksgiving weekends are Charleston’s busiest.  We had planned to visit the Saturday Farmer’s Market in Marion Square until we heard her say, “If you think this is busy, wait until this weekend.  It will be crazy down here!  Carriages will be waiting half an hour or more to get a license!”

The tour was great.  Tour guides in Charleston are licensed only after passing a very stringent test, and we were fascinated by the stories she told.  Once the tour ended, we moved the car from the $1/per half hour parking lot to a free spot on the street – well away from the heart of tourist activity – and headed back to our favorite area on foot.

Though we saw many, many wonderful houses on our tour, this was my favorite because of its story.  This house is on South Battery Street, right across from White Point Gardens, a two-block park that fronts on the Ashley River at the very tip of the peninsula that holds the oldest sections of Charleston.  See the very top of the columns?  That is the height of the storm surge when Hurricane Hugo (Category 4) hit Charleston in 1989.  The two columns on the right show the greatest damage, revealing brick where the ornate design was battered away.  Although the grand home has been repaired, it has not been restored.  The lone inhabitant, a woman, lives in the 4 (out of 20+) rooms that remain usable.  Quirky, eh?

Did you notice the photo of the big, ornate, cream-colored house captioned “Charleston’s most photographed house”?  According to our guide, the husband and wife couldn’t agree on the architectural style for the home, so they split the front in half and each had the design they wanted – notice how the left front side is curved, the right front side square? 

I can’t describe how much fun it is to wander the historic area of Charleston.  Tiny little alleys, cobblestoned streets (built, like those in Savannah, with the stones used as ballast in the ships that came empty into Charleston harbor to pick up goods), brick streets.  The lovely, graceful, “Charleston Single” homes, a design specific to historic Charleston:

"For maximum outdoor living space, the Single was sited far to one side of the lot. Unlike most houses today, in which a wide facade faces the street, the two long sides of the Charleston ran from front to back. On one side, the house was augmented by a long veranda, or piazza, often topped by balconies. The veranda and balconies sheltered doors to the rooms. Thus, the doors could be left open in the heat of the day and even in rain storms. Windows located on the opposite long wall promoted cross ventilation."

Here are two more examples of the Charleston Single, with the front door on the street and the piazzas running the length of the house and lot.  Our tour guide said that you might not truly understand the need for the long, shaded piazzas on a nice spring day.  “Come back in August”, she said.  “During an August tour, it is so hot and humid people in the carriage don’t even turn their heads to look at the houses as we go by; they’re just trying to breathe.”

Historic plaques hang on walls and gates, or on poles in front of pre-Revolutionary buildings – yep, people still live in ‘em.  Carriages clop past, walking tours huddle in groups near their leaders, making it easy to pick up additional bits and pieces of history as you wander.  It is simply a wonderful way to spend a spring day. 

Blog readers/Facebook friends Jesse and Ginger were scheduled to stop by our RV site sometime after 3 pm (our first actual meeting), so we headed home early – 1:30.  We made it home by 3 pm, even after making a couple stops on the way.  Jesse and Ginger arrived around 4, bearing wine and snacks, and we spent a couple of pleasant hours talking “full timer” talk – favorite campgrounds, workamping, traveling with pets, places to see, places to eat, and gossiping behind the backs of all our mutual friends.  :)  JUST KIDDIN’!

So, today… given our guide’s warning of the craziness of downtown Charleston over Easter weekend, we stayed home.  It’s been a full day of research and planning (where are we going from here??), walking, weeding through more than 100 photos I’ve taken in Charleston.  Laundry.  Odel did some waxing on Scoopy.  We planned tomorrow’s adventure (a day trip to Beaufort, SC), and I finally sat down at 4 pm to catch up on the blog.  Its a wrap!

CELEBRATING OUR ANNIVERSARY IN CHARLESTON, SC

Today is our 7th anniversary of full timing.  Has it really been that long?

When we left Sacramento on April 1, 2003, we had around 13,000 miles on Scoopy (purchased one year old).  Subsequent anniversaries:

April 1, 2004: Boondocking outside of Lone Pine, California (photo).  Mileage: 32,320.  Yes, we traveled a lot that first year, over 19,000 miles!

EVERYWHERE and EVERY experience was new to us.  We knew nothing about RV’ing, and nothing about our new-to-us motorhome (or any RV, for that matter).  We didn’t know anyone on the road.  It was all new, all the time.  That year, if we stayed 3 nights in one place, it was a long time.  We had many one-night stays.  We were always anxious to see what was over the next hill, and we loved it all, with especially happy memories of the Great Lakes and Niagara Falls.

April 1, 2005: Grand Gulf State Park near Port Gibson, MS.  Mileage: 46,068.  Not quite 14,000 miles that year.  We made our first trip into Mexico, and as far north as Jasper in British Columbia.

April 1, 2006: Desert Trails RV Park (Doc Justin’s hadn’t been built yet), Tucson, AZ.  Mileage: 60,520, almost 14,500 miles.  We went as far south as Mazatlan that year.

April 1, 2007: Tom Sawyer RV Park, West Memphis, AR.  Mileage: 72,575.  We’d slowed down – barely over 12,000 miles.

April 1, 2008: Lady Bird Johnson Municipal Park, Fredericksburg, TX.  Mileage: 83,828.  Barely made 11,000 that year.  We planned to visit Memphis, but tornados sent us scrambling back to the west.

April 1, 2009: Placerville Elks Lodge, Shingle Springs, CA.  Mileage: 93,770.  Not even 10,000 miles!  Are we getting old??  

Today: Oak Plantation RV Park, Charleston, SC.  Our mileage went over 100,000 somewhere back in Texas; it now stands at 101,987.  Time to celebrate our anniversary again!

Thanks to my cousin Ron (is my cousin’s son my cousin?), who used to be a carriage tour guide in Charleston, we had a great recommendation for a celebratory dinner: The Fat Hen, not too far from our campground.  We wanted something special, and we got it. 

	We began with Mussels a Pistou, mussels in a creamy basil garlic sauce.  They were great, but crusty bread dipped in the sauce had us moaning so loud nearby diners wanted to know what we ordered. Below left: Odel’s Lamb Shank on Creamy Polenta with Smoked Cherry Compote. Below: My Shrimp and Grits, a local favorite I’ve been dying to try.
Above, left and right:  Odel and Laurie are senior members of the Clean Plate Club. Right: It’s our anniversary!  Vanilla Crème Brulee for dessert. It was an outstanding meal, with friendly service in an appealing atmosphere.  Thanks for the recommendation, Ron.  (And, by the way, we had lunch at Basil!)

Last year’s travel was just over 8,000 miles.  I don’t know if we went ANYWHERE we hadn’t already been.  We hardly needed a map to move from one place to another – we knew the route (having frequently traveled it more than once) and knew where we would stay when we arrived.  There is some level of comfort in that – especially since we were returning to places we enjoy – but I began to feel that we were in a rut: enjoyable, but without adventure. 

The antidote? Go east.  The state map on the side of our slide is only half-filled, and those states have been affixed so long ago that the edges are peeling! 

Since the beginning of 2010, we’ve added 4 states to the map, with more to come.  From Charleston, we plan to head back to Memphis (Odel’s hometown) in May, then east again to visit Odel’s daughter near D.C. at the beginning of June. 

Summer?  The northeast and Great Lakes.  We hope to revisit Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons in fall, before returning the Sacramento in October.  We’ll travel around 15,000 miles on this trip; we’ve traveled 4,400 of them already.

Here is what we had forgotten about traveling to new places: you need maps!  You need to plan ahead!  You need to know when the “busy season” is, and plan accordingly!  We had completely forgotten how much time is spent researching: campgrounds, attractions, weather…

We had also forgotten the excitement of heading to a completely new place.  New scenery, terrain, regional accents and regional foods.  It’s as if we were back in our first year – except that we know every inch, switch and button of the motorhome, and we have friends everywhere we go. 

Every so often (actually, quite frequently), someone asks us if we have any plans to quit fulltiming.  With every passing year, that seems more difficult to imagine, though of course it will happen sometime, either by choice or by necessity.  I can’t imagine how we would ever decide on one spot.  Thankfully, for now, we don’t need to!