A Travellerspoint blog

Off to Stockholm

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More trains, about a dozen of them, for a journey of about 8,000 km exclusively by rail. I am counting a short ferry ride, because the train will be on the ferry with me although I understand we will be released from the train. The one out of Oslo left so early that I had to forego my delicious free breakfast. The train was in an older style, quite high and rectangular, although modern inside. The one thing that marked it as a Scandinavian train was the use of blond hardwoods for trays and finishings - otherwise it was grey and bland. As was much of the journey - no sign of sun anywhere.

As I arrived at the edge of Stockholm, I worked out what I had expected and not found in Oslo: a sense of grandeur. I am not sure which suburb the train entered through, but it went past a sequence of tall, gracious buildings - all with golden-yellow walls and orange tiled roofs. While in Stockholm I learnt about the reason for the yellow walls, and it has nothing to do with its evocation of gold. Back in the day, noblemen had their houses painted (they'd NEVER paint them themselves) a deep red colour. Aspirants and no-hopers copied them, wanting to show off a bit and because the paint, being made from a by-product of copper smelting, was cheap, relatively speaking. So the noblemen, not wanting to be associated with the riff-raff, found the most expensive paint on the market - a golden-yellow coloured one. If you walk around the oldest part of Stockholm, you'll see this is the colour of most of the buildings. Even my hostel was painted that colour, although it was far from grand, and far from the oldest part of the city - it is at the western end of Södermalm, which is (I think) the most southern of thr 14 islands that are in Stockholm city. It is an old fashioned looking building, not close to anything, and I was initially dubious but came to enjoy it greatly. Apart from one night when I shared a room with a fellow off to tramp around in the Himalayas for the 14th time, I had the room to myself, there was plenty of space and a nice bar I'd have a closing beer in at the end of the day.

Södermalm has one modern claim to fame: it is where the Girl With a Dragon Tattoo is set: the buildings used in the movies for the Millenium offices, Milton Security and the houses in which Lisbeth Salander and Mikael Blomkvist lived are all here. On my first day in Stockholm, I actually did a Dragon Tattoo tour with a fairly batty lady from the library and got to see these places and learn a bit about Södermalm, an island/suburb I actually enjoyed. Some clever spark has gone about and created little wasps in the rocks near Blomkvist's house. I actually came here because of the movies, particularly the cool bars: never found any of them, but did get to visit a couple of the coffee shops. While I was waiting for the tour, I had to keep out of the way of the filming of some soapy TV programme
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Milton Security

Milton Security

Blomkvist house

Blomkvist house


TV Show scene

TV Show scene

Södermalm Pedestrian street

Södermalm Pedestrian street

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At the same time, I loved walking across the causeway - I had the choice of going past Parliament, which had an island all to itself, which I thought was a bit at odds with its policy of being open to the people, although it does have a very busy pedestrian thoroughfare going past the front door, which connects with a very long (3 km or so) pedestrianised shopping street.
Swedish Parliament

Swedish Parliament

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The alternative was to duck to the right after the causeway and walk though the old town, which is what I did every day, once I worked things out. It is a maze of little streets.
Old Town Street

Old Town Street

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That last little alley is Mårten Trotzigs Grand, the steepest and narrowest of them all. It leads up to a rather pleasant square, the iron square, called this because this is where the city's official iron scales were, to control all trade through the city. Now you'll see the first ever central bank. The wee man standing outside is not a banker, but a famous local troubadour, Evert Taube. Walking further up, you'll notice some odd things on the walls - when a building was insured, a shield would be put above the door, so the fire brigade would know they would be paid for their efforts. The floors came through the walls, and had a pin inserted to make them secure - the style varied according to the builder and the era. There is also the one surviving Viking rune.
Central Bank

Central Bank

large_WP_20141124_004.jpglarge_WP_20141124_001.jpgInsurance plaque

Insurance plaque

Floor pin

Floor pin

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Viking Rune

Viking Rune

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In another square, there was a Christmas market, quite colourful but it never seemed very popular. I was going to try some of their Christmas drink, glogg, until I was told that the version sold in the streets has no booze in it. What's the point. The market surrounded one of the scariest fountains I've seen!
Christmas Market

Christmas Market

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Up at the top end is the Royal Palace - which does not look very glam, but is enormous! I was on a tour when I first saw it - there are stories about the Swedish Royalty straight out of Game of Thrones, or perhaps which inspired some Game of Thrones stories. There was the mother of the King, Catherine. She had used her influence to install him as King, thinking they would share power, or she'd control him. He proved to quite like being King and was not amenable to his mother's wishes. So she spread rumours among the noblemen that he was illegitimate (as Joffrey actually is) and he quickly fell out of favour. I should really have taken notes, because the other stories are mere flutters in my memory.
Front, Royal Palace

Front, Royal Palace

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The architect who designed the Palace was permitted to build his own house right next door, which created something of a challenge, as he couldn't just build himself a skodie little cottage. The house he did build, Riddarhuset, is "the most beautiful house in Stockholm" - I'm afraid I can't see it. Apparently it is nice inside, and being occupied now by the Mayor as his official residence, it is opened to the public twice a year.
Most Beautiful House in Stockholm

Most Beautiful House in Stockholm

Posted by NZBarry 13:50 Archived in Sweden Comments (0)

Art in Oslo - Some a Little Disturbing

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I did a fair amount of reading up on the sights to be seen in Oslo, apart from those which I would encounter as I just walked around more or less aimlessly. Two things stood out as being something I'd make a special effort to see: coincidentally, both involved art. The first was a modern art museum on the tip of an obviously newly developed site: glossy, angular glass and wood and steel structures housing apartments, finance institutions, bars, cafes, bakeries, boutique shops and about the best coffee I've had since I left home: so good I went back every day for more.
Aker Brygge, Oslo

Aker Brygge, Oslo

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I've found that modern art galleries can be a bit hit or miss: sometimes, I am left cold by what I see but overall I have had enough good experiences looking at modern art that I keep at it. The Astrup Fearnley Museum of Modern Art is in almost brand new premises and I have to say my first impression was that I'd made a mistake. They had an exhibition called Europe Europe, but it looked more like an air-conditioning showroom.
Astrup Fearnley Museum of Modern Art

Astrup Fearnley Museum of Modern Art

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It was actually a history of Samsung's air-conditioning in Europe - a pretty tenuous connection to the overall theme, I reckon. In that building, only a couple of things caught my eye: a video which I watched for five minutes while nothing moved, and another video where I couldn't follow the changes and which had really abstract captions. Oh, and some Zimbabwean currency.
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I went across into the other building, and matters improved dramatically. I'd heard of Damian Hirst but didn't really know what he's about. Here is how the Astrup Fearnley describes his work:

Hirst engages simultaneously with sculpture, installation, and painting. The former two typically involve the manipulation of readymade materials, such as appropriated objects or animals, presented in altered states. .. More recently, he has developed his early medicine cabinets, which, like the spliced animals, are characterized by their cold, clinical look.


I didn't quite know what to make of it, but somehow it kept taking me back for another look. At a distance, I thought he had made them, but closer inspection revealed them to be for real.
Damien Hirst work

Damien Hirst work

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Another work needed a fair amount of backstory before I could work out the art. It involved a 350 year old log cabin from Northern Norway: Marianne Heske took it to an exhibition in Paris in 1980, and it is now in the Astrup Fearnley, alongside a replica made from white resin. There was also a photo collection, showing it in its original site, and then packed up and on the move. Again, I found myself going back.
Marianne Heske - Retour

Marianne Heske - Retour

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Best of all was Anselm Kiefer's Zweistromland. He focuses on the book, as a time capsule and repository of knowledge. His particular books preserve knowledge but also make it rather inaccessible: although they can be opened and contain stuff, each one weighs hundreds of kilograms. Being made of lead would do that.
Anselm Kiefer - Zweistromland

Anselm Kiefer - Zweistromland

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There was even a wee bit of humour, of sorts
large_IMG_9976.jpglarge_IMG_9977.jpgJeff Koons - St Benedict

Jeff Koons - St Benedict


My second visit was to something rather different: it involved a three km walk up through very traditional housing to Frogner Park, quite a big space, set out quite formally.
Frogner Park

Frogner Park

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The reason for visiting is that it houses a couple of hundred sculptures by Gustav Vigeland, and a small (and allegedly useless) museum in his honour.
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The exhibition came about as a deal he did with the city: they wanted to demolish his studio, he wanted to move into Frogner Park - he was allowed to so long as all subsequent works were donated to the city to furnish the park. I can't help wondering if the city knew what it was in for! Although Vigeland designed the Nobel peace prize medal, his sculptures in Frogner Park apparently all "reek of Nazi mentality", which was not the first thing to come to mind when I saw them (although he was a known sympathiser during the war). There are a lot of sculptures, in three groups. Here's one, the innocuous ones:
Vigelend Sculpture Park

Vigelend Sculpture Park

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Another group is worked in a softish looking stone - one of them has a girl sitting on it, she caught my eye as she sat very still for quite a long time, as if she were emulating the sculptures:
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I'm not entirely sure what was going on for him when he did them, even less so when he did these
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As an odd juxtaposition, over in one corner there is a formal bust of Lincoln - as far as I could tell, his is the only individual sculpture in the park
Lincoln

Lincoln

Posted by NZBarry 16:24 Archived in Norway Comments (0)

Oslo

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Oslo surprised me in three ways. It was daylight for a lot longer than I had expected, with twilight starting at about 2:30 in the afternoon. It was warmer than I'd expected - while the temperature was stuck at around zero for the few days I was there, it was not unpleasant - I even spent a few minutes outside in jandals and t-shirt one evening. It was also a lot smaller than I expected - it has a big harbour, with the old castle at its head: the CBD occupies just a few blocks behind it. Of course, the city itself sprawls on, but whichever direction I walked in, it didn't take long before the buildings were predominantly residential, although most had small shops, cafes or bars at street level. The buildings have a formal, semi-classical beauty to them.
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One thing that didn't surprise me was the cost: I knew it would be horrendous - $8 coffees (and not that great), $11 standard beers, meals too scary to even think about. My first night in town, the prices at the pubs I saw had me scuttling in to the local equivalent of McDonalds for a happy meal. Wasn't bad, actually. My one posh dinner was my last night - I'd been so frugal that I was left with a pocketful of krones I had to spend, so I went into an Eataly for pasta and beer - hardly haute cuisine. Luckily my hostel provided a great breakfast as part of the deal, so I'd start out with a pile of toast, cheese and various meats in open sandwiches, oranges, watermelon and it would see me through to dinner. One consequence is that I never experienced an authentic Norwegian dinner. The hostel was pretty good, large and semi-deserted: I had the dorm to myself for a couple of the nights I was there. Even so, one evening I managed to get stuck in a corner with a weird and really boring Australian who I just could not shake off for about half an hour, no matter how pointedly I might address myself to my laptop.

My hostel was about 100 metres or less from the Akershus Castle, which has been there since 1299, when a local nobleman started attacking Oslo, although it was more commonly attacked by the Swedes. The only time the Norwegians have lost possession was during World War II, when the Norwegians evacuated Oslo. Unlike most castles, the grounds are open to the public to go in and wander around without fee - when I did so, it seemed to make the various castles I was reading about in the second Game of Thrones book more real.
Akershus Castle

Akershus Castle


Akershus Castle Entry

Akershus Castle Entry

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As I exercised my right as a member of the public to wander around Akershus Castle, I was quite surprised at how spacious and pleasant the grounds were, but then I suppose the entire populace might find itself cooped up in here in a time of siege. Although not much happens there now - some state visits and the like, a guard is maintained.
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The Norwegian Parliament (the Stortinget) is right in the middle of the city - you go up Karl Johans Gate past some shops, hotels, the National Theatre (which had a very formal looking cafe next door) and find yourself at the Royal Palace.
Norwegian Parliament

Norwegian Parliament

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National Theatre, Oslo

large_WP_20141120_010.jpgPalace, Oslo

Palace, Oslo


On the way is some of the campus of the University of Oslo - humanities and law are here, and a seperate building for the law library. I went in and did some work there, but it had an odd feature - they paid no attention to my going in, I could connect to the internet and pluck books from the shelves at will but when it came time to use the toilet, then I needed a security card. Nature being what it is, my time in the building was somewhat limited. I was far happier in the State library of Norway - the outside of the building was a bit grim and not much to look at, and the inside didn't have a lot going on either, but it was a good space to work in, the toilets were not behind a security door and there were a couple of decent cafes just up the street (one refused to accept cash for my coffee! card only).
University of Oslo

University of Oslo

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Law Library, Oslo University

Law Library, Oslo University

State Library of Norway

State Library of Norway

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On the way up, I enjoyed walking past the City Hall, which had a line of sculptures outside of men (I don.t recall any women) pursuing a variety of trades and vocations, then I'd come across Alfred Nobel and the Norwegian branch of his institute. There were a couple of signs which struck my eye - kiwi is not a Norwegian word, yet it is the brand name for a chain of convenience stores - and then there is the delightful sign I saw for a fitness place.
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Nobel

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Next post - a couple of art institutions I enjoyed in Oslo - one is sort of R18, although it is very public.

Posted by NZBarry 17:37 Archived in Norway Comments (0)

End of the Sunny (Golden) Weather - Charleston to Oslo

The original plan was to spend a week in Charleston and another in Savannah, as I couldn't decide between the two. With the disruption to my plans, something had to go, and I actually had to make a choice. Obviously I chose Charleston, but then when it came time to leave, things got tricky - late late trains or a really expensive bus: an overnight in Savannah turned out to solve both problems.

The Greyhound station, like the train station, is well out of central Charleston so I had to catch a local bus and walk about a mile to get to it. Once again, the bus was not a Greyhound, some local company carries their passengers and their bus was late in. Eventually we were under way and it was a quick trip down the Interstate to Savannah. I was not able to find a hostel so had a hotel near the river-front, which turned out to be a good choice - an evening stroll along the river seems to be the thing to do in Savannah - and I quite liked the view of the bridge in the back yard.
Talmadge Memorial Bridge

Talmadge Memorial Bridge

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One thing about my hotel disturbed me: they made the claim that the door locks were the most secure they could find and that they locked the outside doors for my safety - I had not felt at risk until them!

I stopped in at the first bar that actually had people in it for a beer - coming out, I had an odd experience as it seemed the world had blacked out. It was just a container ship - they run right along the side of the street. This one is miles away in comparison.
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Apart from the many bars and restaurants, there are several shops specialising in candy - I picked one I had seen on TV which had helped spark a desire to come to Savannah, and it is pretty amazing. Apart from candies, they do things like pralines, bearclaws and glazed pecans. There were so many samples to try, I barely neeeded dinner and came out bearing about $50 worth of deliciousness. Yep. $50 on candy. Yep $US50.I did not eat it all at once - still have about half, in fact.
large_WP_20141113_031.jpgPecan glazing, River Street Sweets

Pecan glazing, River Street Sweets

large_WP_20141113_018.jpglarge_WP_20141113_016.jpgPraline making, River Street Sweets

Praline making, River Street Sweets

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If you ever need something to stop a gob, I think they will do the trick. Pigging out there did not stop me going in to the peanut shop, where they probably have more than a hundred varieties of flavoured peanuts: again, there were heaps of samples, so I tried everything that seemed interesting but ultimately just bought some plain salted nuts.
Peanut Shop, Savannah

Peanut Shop, Savannah

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Lots of nuts. I don't know how I did it, but when I saw Candy Kitchen, I went in there, and bought a wee treat to eat as I walked.
Candy Kitchen

Candy Kitchen

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On my walk along River Street, I had noticed that (apart from one very posh looking restaurant), the busiest place for food was Barracuda Bob's so that was the logical place to dine. The chicken wings were not so great, but I finally tried one of the local specialties - shrimp'n'grits. I'd had several conversations with people about grits - I was initially quite keen as they're made from corn, but then someone said they don't taste like corn, another said they taste like oatmeal. Finally, I had quite a long discussion with someone who convinced me that I needed to try them - they're a kind of poor man's couscous, but cooked until they're mushy, almost creamy. They basically provide a base for food, and went quite well with the shrimp, sausage and slightly spicy sauce in the dish I had. Not very photogenic, sorry.
Shrimp and Grits @ Barracuda Bobs

Shrimp and Grits @ Barracuda Bobs


River Street, Savannah

River Street, Savannah

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I walked around in the morning for a couple of hours - up the main street and spent some time in a bookshop/cafe where they have found something to do with old law reports now that they're all available online.
Ex Libris Book Store

Ex Libris Book Store

There is probably quite bit of Savannah I didn't see, but the 18 or so hours I spent there gave me a nice taste, and River Street does seem to be where most touristy action is - I've done that now. When it was time to go, I finally had an actual Greyhound bus, with a very grumpy and shouty driver - one poor passenger bore the brunt of it, as he obviously didn't know how to travel the Greyhound way. The bus was an express, and left with maybe a dozen passengers - most of whom left at the one intermediate stop we made, at Jacksonville, Florida. Once in Orlando, I had a long wait at the bus stop before a bus turned up - and it was not the most comfortable of waits. At one end of the bus stop, there were three guys discussing the length of time they'd spent in prison and what would happen if they went back (luckily none of them seemed inclined to do so). At the other, a woman having a long and largely one-sided conversation on her cell-phone - at all times, she sounded pretty agressive, and she'd start shouting, pouring streams of profanity into her phone. The bus I wanted was 30 minutes late so when one finally turned up, I just climbed on - tried to find out where we were going and how close it would get me to my destination, but the driver seemed to know very little about street numbers, would only tell me we were going to the terminal. As it happened, the terminal is on the very intersection I had asked her about, so all was good.

My last night in the US, so I cashed in a hotel voucher and stayed in a Hilton. Just as well, because I could see no sign of any kind of downtown or places to eat, so I dined in. The waitress was pretty and fun - as she was cleaning up a nearby table, I happened to ask her about her accent, which turned into two twenty minute conversations: Aliona is from central Ukraine, and had very fond memories of growing up there, particularly the summer camps where she could go to get away from her family (and they could be relieved of the burden of putting up with her) but does not like the way it has gone, with a departure from traditional values - the girls are just dolls, extermally beautiful but no inner beauty, she told me. Next conversation was about her life in America, her two kids, camping at the parks in Florida, the one visit she paid out of state seven years ago... We parted friends, and I was told to pop in and say hi when I'm next in Orlando. What a great way to finish my visit to the USA.

The other great thing about staying in a Hilton is that I could spend the day of my flight in the lobby using its free computer; getting travel plans sorted, printing out tickets, having a beer so that I was nice and relaxed for my flight. I was at the airport in plenty of time. I was flying Norwegian Air - they have a Dreamliner on the route, but the main complaint people have is that they sometimes bring in a chartered plane that is old, has no entertainment and does very little in the way of food, so I was hoping I'd get the real deal. Yep - a bit of a tight squeeze and my neighbour told me I'd been wise not to pre-buy the dinner, but smooth and decent things to watch, the main one being a dryish Norwegian comedy called Dag, about an extremely self-destructive couples therapist. My neighbour was very talkative, but occasionally he'd forget I wasn't Norwegian and lapse into his mother tongue.

After the lovely weather I'd had all the way down the USA, flying into Oslo was a bit of a shock: a steady 0 degrees and no sun.

Posted by NZBarry 15:57 Archived in USA Comments (0)

Charleston

sunny 19 °C

I find that I regret leaving each place, thinking that I could have easily spent much more time there, but somehow the place I move on to is even better than the last: it makes for a great travel experience. Last time I was in this part of the world, I sat on the edge of a defunct motorway for an hour or so, dithering over whether I should head west, towards Knoxville and Memphis and on to Texas, or south, through Charleston, Savannah and New Orleans before heading to Texas. I picked west, and enjoyed the trip immensely. This time, I went south, and enjoyed the trip immensely (although I did not get to New Orleans - next time). Charleston is just a fabulous place to hang out and enjoy life.

In the Washington hostel, I met a young couple from Hamilton, New Zealand who were kind enough to offer me a lift. If I hadn't already paid for my ticket, twice, I might have gone with them. (The ticket was paid for twice because I'd organised it before being stuck in Toronto, then couldn't use it. To be fair, I apparently will get a refund at some stage). So, it was a fairly early start to hit the Amtrak train to Charleston: there was a delightful moment in the station when a mother had to admonish her daughter, who was maybe 8 or 9, saying "stop dancing and get on the train". I didn't actually see very much as I travelled because they seem to have created a wee corridor for the railway line, hiding it behind trees. There was one point, however, where I was a bit surprised to notice a couple of giant military aircraft parked beside the railway line - I knew at the time what base it was, but its gone. The train didn't arrive until about 8:00 in the evening and Charleston is off the map when it comes to mainline public transport - both the train and buses stop several miles north of the city - so I decided to stop the night in North Charleston - the motel I picked was about a mile from the station: when I went in, the reception lady said "you didn't walk from the station did you, that's a bad area, really dangerous". I'd noticed a couple of blokes on push-bikes, nothing scarier. It was actually a good motel, and there was a mall with a choice of not too horrible places to eat and a huge used bookstore open till 9:00.

Once I hit downtown Charleston, my hostel was initially a bit of a concern - locked up with no sign of life, and a message to say it would not open until 6:00, I was really wondering about it. I hid my bags behind a tree out the back and went for a wander. Once I was in, however, it was fine, one of the most sociable I've ever been in - starting with the free bagel breakfast, where everyone sits around and chats, and then I came home from my day out and about to find a pot-luck dinner under way. I declined and sat in the next room, and had people coming in for long talks. Other nights, there might be no-one there at all: one poor bloke came along after the office closed and couldn't get in, because not even any of the guests were there - hate to think how long he'd been waiting. Then someone told me that the helicopter buzzing around overhead was looking for a runaway murderer - made me wonder who I'd let into the hostel.

There was a slight downside to such a friendly hostel: I planned to go see one of the remaining tea plantation mansions, and knew there was just one tour a day to get there. Unfortunately, a bit too much bagel chatter saw me arrive at the station just as the tour bus pulled out the other end. I had to console myself walking around the southern tip of Charleston - most of the houses were built in the 1600's and some are very grand. I don't often describe things as awesome, but that was the word that came to mind as I walked around. The grandest of all are on immense grounds with huge gardens which obscure the houses, some have high walls so peeps like me can't interrupt whatever people do in grand houses behind walls. Here's a selection of what can be seen in the area between Broad Street and South Barrack - but really, it was their aggregate effect which worked its magic on me.
House with Piazza

House with Piazza

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South Battery is a gun emplacement - there is also a Fort (Sumter) on an island - which is a pretty big deal of a fort, as it is here the first shots in the civil war were fired. If you couldn't tell from the houses, Charleston has history - it has been here since 1670. There is a monument at South Battery to commemorate the soldiers who fought in the Battle of Fort Sumter. I was amused as an elegantly dressed lady wandered up and was busy taking a photo, and obviously suddenly noticed about this statue, because she exclaimed "ewww! Where's his clothes?" (being elegantly clothed is not a sign of knowing or caring about grammar).
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It is when you head round to East Battery and East Bay that you hit the really old part of town - there are houses here from the 17th century although most are 18th century (including the Old Exchange & Provost Dungeon - the balcony of which was used to read out the Declaration of Independence, and was itself used as a slave market).
Old Exchange & Provost Dungeon

Old Exchange & Provost Dungeon

East Bay Street

East Bay Street

large_270_IMG_9848.jpglarge_IMG_9853.jpgEast Battery

East Battery

Historic Charleston Foundation

Historic Charleston Foundation

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Two more houses - about the smallest I saw and definitely the largest:
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Charleston was named in honour of Charles II and has long enjoyed a hedonistic lifestyle. I certainly found lots and lots of places to eat, drink and make merry - King Street is the main street, and has maybe six, maybe eight, blocks of glamourous shopping, posh bars and places to eat, with lots more dotted on the side-streets - I went to one called Poogan's Porch (result of a long chat in the hostel) and pigged out on southern fare - mac'n'cheese and fried chicken. I was a bit wary of the mac'n'cheese, because the last time I seriously ate some was when I was a student, eating hostel food - the only way to get any taste out of that mac'n'cheese was to smother it in tomato sauce. This version, though, was delicious (and terribly unhealthy) yet not the best I've eaten. Further up King Street, there are lots of big old buildings which have obviously been run down a bit, but now a lot of them are being turned into very sophisticated bars. I went into one, Prohibition, where they had an old-time band playing and people actually dancing - maybe the Charleston, I don;t know because I wouldn't recognise it - 1920's and 30's style. It was a great place to hang out - I went a couple of times, and once had their mac'n'cheese - fantastic, with local sausage, mushrooms, a hint of spice: they guy eating sliders at the next table was quite jealous.
Prohibition

Prohibition

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Another bar I went into, the Rarebit, ostensibly to meet some people from the hostel but really because I had heard about its ginger beer, made inhouse and it packs a punch: completely non-alcoholic, but a huge fresh ginger kick. I vaguely remember promising the people I was with that I would make some when I get home. I had dinner here as well - they served mac'n'cheese as a side. Might have to make some of that when I get home as well.

I did work when I was there - a day and a half in the public library, half a day in a pub because the library was closed for Veteran's Day and then I discovered that College of Charleston isn't some community college, but is a proper liberal-arts college, with a great library - I particularly liked their solid individual work-spaces. I did make a bit of a mistake - I saw a building called the Towell Library so tried to use it, but it has changed function somewhat.
Towell Library

Towell Library

Towell Library

Towell Library

Alumni House

Alumni House

large_WP_20141111_008.jpgPorter's Lodge

Porter's Lodge

large_WP_20141111_003.jpgCollege of Charleston

College of Charleston

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Speaking of towels, near time to throw it in as I'm running out of pictures. Here are a few randoms:
Old Courthouse

Old Courthouse

Courthouse and Post Office

Courthouse and Post Office

Horse-drawn bus

Horse-drawn bus

Free Tourist Tram

Free Tourist Tram

Promenade

Promenade

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Posted by NZBarry 16:05 Archived in USA Comments (0)

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