Day Four: Seeking Southern Charm — Sullivan’s Island, Sunrise, and a City I Didn’t Want to Disappoint Me

Day four of the book tour started before the sun did.

I made the twelve-minute drive from my adorable little Airbnb in Mount Pleasant out to Sullivan’s Island just as it was getting light, and I caught the sunrise on the beach. Spectacular. Absolutely spectacular. And here’s a confession: I don’t even know why I keep calling this trip “seeking” or “chasing” Southern charm, because I don’t have to seek or chase anything. It’s here. It’s everywhere I turn.

I didn’t think Harrisonburg could be topped. Turns out Charleston does it — not by much, just a little — but it’s bigger, and it comes with more history than I ever knew existed. These people take real pride in being America’s rebels, and you can feel it on every street. The folks here are every bit as kind as they were in Harrisonburg, and don’t even get me started on the fashion. Pastels everywhere. Gingham everywhere. Women who look like they stepped out of a catalog even in shorts — and I don’t mean the LA, Beverly Hills kind of polished. I mean something more relaxed, more artful, more lived in. That’s Charleston to me: colorful, proud of its art and its history and its nature and each other. And I’ve only scratched the surface — I know I haven’t seen everywhere yet.

The Water Taxi Was the Move

Once I’d had my fill of sunrise, I needed to figure out the best way into Charleston proper, so I asked my Airbnb host. She pointed me to the marina and told me to take the water taxi — eighteen dollars for an all-day pass, back and forth, with drops at different spots along the way. Best eighteen dollars I’ve spent. The captain and her assistant were phenomenal, and even though I had no real plan once I landed, I figured it out fast enough.

I walked past Miss Pat’s house from Southern Charm — heads up, don’t bother making a special trip, it’s all walled off — but it was still something to stand there and read the history of Rutledge Street and realize the role that family played in founding this country.

Then I just walked. Real feel of 108 degrees, humidity thick enough to swim through, and I didn’t care one bit. I’d almost hoped Charleston would let me down a little — give me a reason to say I wouldn’t actually want to live here. It did not cooperate. It’s everything I’d dreamed about for years.

Books, a Hat, and

I stopped into Ladybird Books on King Street — newly opened, painfully cute, smaller than I expected — and walked out about $100 poorer and much happier. Felix the bookstore dog was off duty, which was a real disappointment, but I’ll forgive him. At the City Market I bought an actual hat. I don’t wear hats. I am now, apparently, a woman who wears hats, because I’m trying this whole “getting a little more Southern” thing on for size.

The water taxi back gave me three dolphins as a farewell gift. I was home by two in the afternoon and asleep by six — because this, it turns out, has been quite the journey.

Follow me on Instagram for all the pictures and videos of the journey! @BirdieJaneLane