It took me a while to get into Savannah–but it was a nice day and it’s not like I could push it anyway. I do wish I had gotten there sooner to check out all the city, but I still found time to putz around a bit.

My wonderful next door neighbor, Chrissie, had promised to put me up in a hotel on any given night on my trip. I figured since it was Thanksgiving, and I wanted to watch the Skins game, why not? Plus I really wanted to see Savannah and there weren’t many campgrounds nearby. It worked out perfectly.

I rolled into town–sweaty, snotty, and stinky. Of course, Chrissie put me up in style, so as soon as I walked in I was a little out of place. My bike shoes clicked across the floor as the lady tried to keep a straight face. But then I told her I had a reservation and boom! Now the smelly kid in the red jacket is the one who’s laughing. (I didn’t actually laugh.)

But the place was awesome and the people were super nice.  And my goodness, was it way different than sleeping in a tent. I think I’d be able to get used to it.

I put all my stuff in my room, enjoyed my complementary glass of wine (what did I tell you?), put on my one “nice” shirt and jeans and headed into town. I headed straight towards the music, and found this guy playing some great tunes. He even threw in some holiday stuff to put me in the mood.

Hey Hido, I knew the Mad Hatter was south of Dupont Circle, but this is a bit of a hike:

Savannah is awesome. I’m definitely going back there again. The place has a lot of history and they’ve done a great job at preserving it. Big ships were posting up right near the main cobblestone street, and then even bigger ships would glide past them in the background. There’s a huge drop off between the riverfront and the next level of town. Old, skinny cobblestone steps adjoin the two areas, and I wondered how many people have wiped out on those things.

There’s a certain small town feel to it, but you’re definitely in a city. When I was noodling my time in Savannah on the way there, I began to worry that nothing was going to be open for my stretch in town. Fortunately, I was way off. The place was buzzing, and as the afternoon wore on, more and more things started to open up.

I swung into a little pub on the water to catch the end of the first game and see if I could do some thanksgiving grub. The place was surprisingly packed and I squeezed up to the bar. A nice lady sitting down said they were leaving and that I could sit in their spot.

So I plopped down and ordered a beer, and we got to talking as she waited for her husband. Tracy and Tony are from Baltimore, and they have a place in Ocean City, MD. We bonded over the classy OC spots, like Seacrets, and 20 minutes and a beer later, they asked me what I was doing down in Savannah. 45 minutes and another two beers, and I had made myself two new friends. But they had to get going, because they actually knew some people in town. As they were closing their tab, they had the bartender throw mine on theirs. They said it was the least they could do, and I just sat back and smiled. People are great.

Then I decided I should probably get some food, which was the original reason for going in there–to go a full day without ramen or a PB no J. Thanksgiving dinner: cup of turkey chili and a turkey club sandwich. That was the closest I could get! It was really good though. And it was much easier to swallow as RG3 and my boys were playing lights out.

Then a couple on the other side of me struck up a conversation. Their names were Patti and Frank, and they were great. Out of a small town in North Carolina, I talked lovingly about the places I had been in their state, and not so lovingly about picking up 17. They were also experiencing their first Thanksgiving without family in years, so we bonded over that. I ended up telling them about my trip, and we spent some good time laughing about a few of my close calls, mistakes, and some of my favorite parts of the ride. We were able to strategize a bit about my next moves and they offered me some solid tips about heading southward. I got to really enjoy a few pints and some great company in this joint.

Our wonderful bartender informed me that you are actually allowed to take a beer “to go.” This town keeps getting better and better. I ordered one for the road, and asked to close out. Then Frank leaned over and told the bartender that they would take my bill.

I know it may not seem like much, but my goodness. And it’s not just the Thanksgiving spirit–stuff like this has been happening since I left. It’s not only refreshing, but it’s also quite touching every time it does. The compassion I have found in complete strangers has been absolutely stunning. From everything I see on the news, I would think the complete opposite, but I know it’s true because I’ve gotten to experience it first hand.

And now that I don’t have my career/social circle/ratrace blinders on, I’ve really gotten to open my eyes. I try to take the time to get to know the people around me, and going on this trip has allowed me to sit down and do that, it’s amazing. I’m so thankful for all of this, and I’m especially thankful for all of the people I have met. Maybe most importantly, I’m thankful that I found the courage to make this journey. But I’m not done yet–at this point, I’m about halfway. Gotta keep on truckin.