Day 10 – Jesup to Savannah, GA

I still haven’t seen a hill in ten days of cycling up the east coast of America. But today I certainly saw plenty of traffic. Sometimes, it can be hard to avoid in this country. There seem to be main roads and dirt roads, but often there isn’t much in between. Dirt roads in this part of Georgia means sand, and it can be like riding on ice, especially with my panniers. After a short experiment, I decided firmly this wasn’t an option, however much Google Maps wanted to encourage the practice. We have history. When it is good, it is a very helpful app indeed. But when it is bad, it can be horrid! I learned that fact two years ago in the deep gravel of Washington state. I don’t want a repeat.

Instead, I was resigned to more than I would have liked today cycling on the shoulder of a four lane highway. There was plenty of space for me to the right of all the traffic. We were never in each other’s way. But the constant noise is not relaxing, and the trucks – even when they give you a whole lane of space – are big and angry looking. It wasn’t all like that, but today was the first day I have had to put up with it for many miles, and it isn’t something I would choose to repeat. The stretches in between were pleasant enough, with more of yesterday’s swampy pine forests and a couple of larger towns, Hinesville and Richmond Hill.

I had an odd experience in Hinesville. I made a left turn on a suburban road, past a supermarket, then a school, and then some new housing estates. It all seemed quite normal. And then a couple of miles along the road I suddenly came, without notice, to the entrance to a military base, Fort Stewart. The road continued and a lot of the traffic did too, but it turned out you needed a pass, which obviously I didn’t have. On the map it all looked quite normal. But the guards at the gate pleasantly but firmly said I had to turn around. So that was an extra four miles I could have lived without! It was another lovely day and I didn’t really mind, except that there really wasn’t anything to tell me I couldn’t use this road – because I checked when I found myself back by the supermarket. Is that too much to ask?

I made it comfortably to the edge of Savannah and found my pleasant motel. I was still a ten minute Uber ride from the historic city centre, but it was the only affordable choice for the long distance adventure cyclist. I duly got my lift into the old part of town to get some dinner, and was pleased to discover my driver, a Jamaican, was a lifelong Liverpool FC fan with a special fondness for John Barnes. It’s fun to chat to these people. It always seems to take at least a couple of times of me saying that I cycled here from Key West for it to sink in. Not surprising, perhaps, given that I have now covered 800 miles.

I saw a line of people a block long leading to Leopold’s ice cream shop on busy Broughton Street in downtown Savannah, so after I found some dinner I returned to see why. The queue had gone at 9.30pm, so I went inside and treated myself to a double waffle cone. First, it was huge. Second, it was divine. One of the best ice cream eating experiences I have ever had, which is saying something. I slept well.

I had already planned to take a day off and see Savannah. I am so glad that I did. By day it is truly a beautiful city. Apparently it gets uncomfortably hot and humid here during the summer months; but it was perfect for me. Sunshine and blue skies, warm but not hot. The city is built around more than twenty large green squares and parks, and the genteel streets in between are shaded by huge old live oaks, dripping with Spanish moss. The mid nineteenth century houses are beautiful, with balconies, turrets and iron railings aplenty. Many squares have a pretty church or some other large civic building to photograph. Most have either a statue or a fountain, or both. There were bright pink azaleas everywhere. There is so much to admire. I wandered around for most of the afternoon and never got tired of it.

And then there is the riverfront, where old, multi level brick warehouses and a power station have now been converted into into hotels and restaurants alongside a cobbled riverfront walk. Upstream is a large, modern suspension bridge leading into South Carolina, and beyond that are huge docks. A massive container ship sailed slowly past as I watched. Inside the old power station is a full size, shiny metal cast of a brontosaurus, dominating what is also perhaps the funkiest, fossil filled hotel lobby I have ever seen.

Savannah had been on my list for many years. It exceeded my already high expectations. I would be tempted to say it has been the highlight of my journey so far. I will see it all again in the morning as I leave, and I will be sad to go. But go I must, into my third state. There is still a very long way ahead of me.