I'm tired of my cold, and tired of the cold weather. Except that we haven't gotten down to freezing at night, the daytime temps have been colder than January or February. So, because of my persistent germs, I have refrained from going for walks, trying to be content with my books and my pleasant view.
The apartment I am in is spacious to say the least.
It sleeps six, and with little effort you could easily avoid running into one another for days. The porch gets afternoon sun, when it's not cloudy, as it was today, but the wind was so bad yesterday I only attempted it for about ten minutes.
I haven't seen any alligators, but I am continuing to keep an eye out. My guess is it's too cold, no place to come up for sun, same as for me. On Sunday I heard occasional loud splashes and ran in for my camera. Hours later I realized it was a duck or two splashing around. But the week is young.
Although I have to say, the time is flying, almost as though I was busy. I am eating in tonight. Even though I am traveling alone, I like to sample a few dishes from wherever I go. I don't embarrass easily these days, but I'd be unlikely to order more than one appetizer or main course if I was dining in. So I do take-out, and overindulge. And then on the next night, I have leftovers to enjoy.
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| Leftover night -- sometimes it yields odd combinations. |
It's cheaper on average, I have my own stock of wine and beer, and I don't have to drive home sated, drunk or in the dark.
This afternoon I decided to explore the "other" side of this island. I think the easiest way to get to know your way around a place is to try to find someplace. My goal today was The French Bakery and Courtyard. Should be easy, right on the main drag, William Hilton Parkway. Except it's not. With maps in hand, I drove several miles past where it should have been, no shopping center in sight, and pulled into a large Bi-Lo/Sam's Club strip mall. Turned around and headed back. Ended up unintentionally at the Giuseppi's I worked so hard to find on Saturday. Stared at the maps again, and headed back out. After a few tries, I found myself at what looked like the right shopping center -- which happened to be right across from the Bi-Lo I'd been at nearly an hour earlier. This is getting to be an annoying routine.
It's a surprising shopping center, quite pretty but obviously older than the parts of HH I'd been seeing.
Based on the types and age and wear and tear of the stores in the area, I would say that I had found the hispanic area. I liked it better than the newer, whiter parts of town. I happily learned that Dye's Gullah Fixins was in the same shopping center as the bakery, but after wandering around in the chill afternoon air, I found only a deserted storefront.
Time to head home, where I spotted a newer building with a sign that said "Dye's Gullah Fixins." Of course I spotted it as I passed it, which meant yet another turn around in heavy traffic in four lanes. But I was excited. And then dashed, as I learned that it hadn't yet opened in its new location.
Here's something else about Hilton Head Island. It's white. Whiter than pretty much anyplace else I'd been since I'd come to live in South Carolina. The exception being the help, employees in stores and restaurants and the crew at the resort.
For example, in my apartment is a lovely coffee-table type book called Hilton Head Island Vacation Directory . Pages 10-15 feature the island's Gullah Heritage. And that is the last you will see of people of color in its pages. (Let me know if I missed one.) Oh, and maybe it's just me, but it's published by the "Anthem Media Group," which just plain old makes me shudder.
The other thing about Hilton Head Island that I am far more comfortable with is that it's faux nature. Like Kiawah which neighbors my home of Wadmalaw Island, and which is even more exclusive than Hilton Head, the designers have taken great pains to give the appearance of a natural environment without anyone having to give up any of the comforts of civilization. And let me just say that knowing there are turtles and alligators swimming in whatever that body of water is off my porch is about as close as I need to get to nature. I know that lots of natural habitat was killed off so I could live in comfort this week, and folks can come golf here in luxury. I'm not okay with that, but I'll live with the guilt for the week.
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