Hello from Room 108 at the Thunderbird Inn, located in downtown Savannah, Georgia. This is the first morning in the last two weeks where I’ve walked outside and it hasn’t felt like an oppressive oven of heat and humidity. With recent daily heat indexes hovering around 110 degrees down here, it’s quite refreshing to step out the door for coffee and not be hit with a frying pan of air.
As we speak, I’m on my way back to Haywood County from my girlfriend’s humble abode in Jacksonville Beach, Florida. It was decided yesterday to caravan up here for the evening before parting ways. Grab a meal on the riverfront of “The Hostess City of the South.” Walk the cobblestone streets underneath the Spanish moss draped over the centuries-old live oak trees.
Cruising up Interstate 95 North to I-16 East from Jax Beach. The endless flow of tractor-trailers and vehicles up and down the Eastern Seaboard. Sizzling pavement and vast marshland. Rest areas and truck stops. Searching for a place of lodging for the night, I came across the Thunderbird Inn. A slew of memories immediately flooded my field of vision. It had been 19 years since I last stayed at the Thunderbird, when I was a senior in college (2007) in Connecticut on my way to Tybee Island, Georgia, for spring break.