Three years ago, I traveled to Key West, the southernmost point of the U.S. I loved the beautiful ocean view that had inspired Ernest Hemingway to create some the most extraordinary works in American Literature. But I don’t consider Key West a “real” southern city. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have thought about visiting one if it wasn’t for my mother. She made it clear to me that she wanted our annual vacation this time to be more slow-paced. So, almost immediately, Charleston, South Carolina came to mind as a top choice!
We stayed at an Airbnb right outside downtown. Our host, Susan, turned out to be an amazing writer and photographer, who has published more than twelve books on Southern architecture and interior design. Susan has a refined house full of collector’s items, and we dined out of porcelains from her ancestors with the company of her sweet-tempered poodle. Being a gallery and museum enthusiast, I asked her if there’re any particular places she would recommend. She laughed: “just go explore downtown and around! Charleston itself is a museum of living history.”
Strolling through downtown Charleston at dusk had been the activity my mom and I repeated every day during our stay. We hopped from one restaurant to another, and we usually finished our day at Belgian Gelato, a ice-cream shop by the Waterfront Park. As our happiness level of the day peaked—told by our tummies, we strolled alongside the water, watched the sun set, and felt the twilight breeze brushing all the daily dust off our shoulders.
The city did not fail to impress. Beautiful weather, unforgettable seafood, southern hospitality, lovely architecture… all met my expectations, which were based on descriptions from others’ experiences, scenes from movies I’ve seen, or books I’ve read. The town itself is very family friendly, and there were many middle-aged couples dating—love is definitely in the air!
It was a challenge to fit all plantations or gardens into our schedule, so we had to pick and choose. We visited the Boone Hall Plantation and the Middleton Place. Unlike most of the other places in the area that are now for sightseeing purposes only, Boone Hall Plantation remains one of America’s oldest working plantations. We attended a session on Gullah Culture presented by a local historian, whose great grandmother was born a slave. Her voice was strong, her stories were moving, and her songs echoed on the marshy river. In the middle of the day, the summer sky started looking treacherous. Soon after the Gullah culture presentation, it started pouring rain with angry thunders. The scenes in the movie, The Notebook, started playing in front of me. The heavy rain splashed the porch we stayed under, creating a rhythm that I found obscurely beautiful, with the view of oak trees and cattails covered Boone Hall Creek.
As much as Boone Hall dazzled me, my favorite has to be the Middleton Place—thanks to the absolute endorsement from our host Susan. If Boone Hall re-presented history in front of me in such a breathtakingly aesthetic way, the Middle Place allowed me to experience the historical site wholeheartedly. We purchased the Spend the Day Tour tickets ($55 and 10 hours well-spent!). The second I stepped into the gardens, I felt as if I were a royal princess. Sitting by the water and feeling the grounds of the beautiful gardens, I watched a pair of swans paddling playfully besides each other and breaking the surreal serenity. It was hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that this gorgeous 110-acre place was once burned down by the Union soldiers during the Civil War. But many years later the property is still here, and from our tour guide’s words: this is a wealthy family, and now you know the difference between wealthy and rich.
I’m always fascinated by antiques, objects that withstand time. When I visit historical sites, especially ancient ruins, I cannot help but to touch the brick wall, crumbled ground, eroded statues… I’m always so jealous of them—how I wish to live thousands of years to watch the world go through history! At Middleton Place, there were many live oaks, with dripping Spanish moss. I touched them, spoke with them, very much admired them. I wonder what they’ve seen, for the past 900 years! These creatures with roots deep beneath the earth and reaching for the sky always evoke my deepest reverence.
Besides the silent living creatures, there are also many loud ones. I have never been to one single farm with so many animals: sheep, cattle, cashmere goats, water buffalos, hogs, peacocks, horses, chickens, roosters and…an alligator actually! They roamed around the place freely, and photobombed my selfies unapologetically. The restaurant offered Low Country favorites harvested fresh from the on-site organic farm and gardens. Let me be blunt, my salad was so fresh that I tasted the blood of those leafy greens and heavenly juice of mother earth—it made me realize the definition of real quality whole foods and question my living standards. I still think of those veggies these days and I am determined to have my own garden one day.
Our carriage ride tour guide grew up on the place. As the horse dragged us to each corner of the plantation on a hot summer afternoon, our guide shared with us pieces after pieces of his memory, with those trees, animals, and Ms. Eliza, who had worked at Middleton Place for more than 40 years. Like all plantations, the story is not just of the white owners, but also about its African and African American population. Our tour ended at a little white cabin with red door, where Ms. Eliza spent her final years. Our tour guide described her as a fierce lady, who resides permanently in his early childhood memory. He told us, the stories she told him, when he was little. That moment hit me. I could almost see Eliza coming out of the cabin, yelling at me for the pranks I did, and spanking me with her broom! History was so alive. It was running in his blood, lingering on the land.
Let me describe my impression of the South: charming and spooky. Getting to know the real Charleston, one has to visit all the gems that sit outside the city. Charming is definitely the most used word, when people describe this lovely town. To me, it was also spooky—not in an unearthly way but rather, I felt the past haunting. Just like how Susan described the Southern interior design: it’s a reflection of the Southerners who live in the debris of their memories, bits from here, bits from there.
Charleston, a Southern belle, a museum of living history.
It was a relaxing and fruitful vacation, and I learned much more than what I expected. Simply exploring the city and the county taught me much about its culture, and history is still so alive down there that I could hear it breathing. This mysteriously endearing place attracted me and at the same time kept me distant. I never felt stronger about the present. Many years later, “now” is going to be written in history. We, are living, in history. We are, living history.