American-Sized

20 December 2009

Granted this is a long time in coming...I've been avoiding writing up the final legs of our trip because somehow it would seem over. And although we're currently settled and all boring, I still don't quite want to let go and admit it. However, I have nothing else to do that's urgent, and therefore I'm going to suck it up and complete the Doing of the World. Sigh.

Drayton Hall was our last stop in South Carolina; we left when they closed and made us leave. No shagging in Myrtle Beach, just pizza and central heat. And admiring the vernacular beach architecture, which appears to consist mainly of giant emporiums devoted to the sartorial splendours of American-flag beach towels and bikinis. Printed with American flags. And the occasional shark-mouth.

Long drive up, staying as close to the coast as we could. North Myrtle Beach is practically on the border with North Carolina, and the road meanders through places with names like Supply, Monogram, Bolivia, and Malmo. I really don't have anything witty to add to that; I just enjoy the utter surreal-ness of them. You can't make America up. Went through Wilmington, with it's pretty Victorian streets, but didn't stop. By this point, the promise of a monumental snowstorm had begun to work it's magic on the east coast, threatening chaos and poor driving and shortages of multi-grain bread in every middle-class grocery store.

This far south, it was just early rain and drizzle. Passed the gates to the massive Camp Lejeune, home to a centre for amphibious assault training and 14 miles of beaches. The chain-link fence was strung with soggy sheets painted with messages welcoming home a unit from Iraq. By lunchtime we were at New Bern, the colonial capital and birthplace of Pepsi. In a Colonial-Williamsburg-esque feat, the ladies of New Bern got together in the 1950s and completely rebuilt Tryon Palace and its gardens. The Palace is enormous and brick and lovely, but strangely out of place in the modern town.

Lunch in a local place outside New Bern, which featured a burger with 50oz. of meat in six patties, free to those who can actually finish it. David seriously contemplated this option, but we went with human-sized food instead. Onwards and upwards to the lovely little town of Edenton, another colonial capital beautifully situated on Albemarle Sound. Loads of 18th century clapboard houses, gardens and comuments. Could happily have stayed here a day or two, but the Storm of the month was progressing as fast as we were. Up along route 17, through the Great Dismal Swamp, which has to win a prize in the evocative names category, and into Virginia.