After saying goodbye to family, we went back to the airport for a car rental. Ruth managed to get Avis to waive the under-25 fee because of her corporate affiliation, but I’m still angry that this ageism is still around. I own a car, have a (sort of) real job, but they want to charge me $25 a day over the regular cost to drive some compact car? Bullshit.

Got on the road after making our getaway, and then on to Savannah. Stopped in Vidalia for some onions, but they are out of season. Pork rinds and moon pies were a good substitute.

Savanah is beautiful, filled with tree lined squares, which apparently make it easier to subdue a colonial city. I love traveling with an urban planner. We walked along the river, where we had some mediocre oysters at one place, followed by an amazing experience at Bayou Cafe. The first floor was filled with a crowd listening to the blues stylings of Brett (apparently the least black name for a blues player, but that dude could play). Fried catfish, a pound of crawfish, several Sweetwater 420 and Jack and Cokes later, my pool game was still worse than Ruth’s. But she did let me win at darts and take her home.

The next day we took a scenic trolley ride around the city, getting a better lay of the land. Gorged ourselves at the Fiddler Crab, where we ate as many $6-dozen Appalachicola oysters and pounds of crawfish as we could handle. Drunk on seafood, we wandered back to our hotel for an afternoon nap. We found a Victorian ghost tour, complete with properly attired undertaker and foggy night.