Charleston’s Sticky Secrets & Slightly Damp Socks
okay, so i’m pretty sure i’m running on fumes and lukewarm coffee. 4423655… seriously, what is that number? it just popped into my head. and 1840015519? it’s like a random password for a forgotten dream. i landed in Charleston yesterday, and honestly, it’s… a lot. like, a beautiful, crumbling, pastel-colored lot. the humidity is clinging to everything - my hair, my clothes, my sanity. it’s 20.74 degrees feels like 20.33, temp min 20.19, temp max 20.98, pressure 1017, humidity 56, sea level 1017, grnd level 1006. yeah, that’s the weather. i just checked and it's...there right now, hope you like that kind of thing.
I’m staying in this tiny Airbnb near Rainbow Row - it smells faintly of jasmine and old books. the landlord, Mr. Silas, keeps leaving cryptic notes about ‘the spirits of the harbor’ and ‘avoiding the cobblestones after dark.’ i’m not entirely sure what that means, but it’s adding to the whole vibe. someone told me that the best shrimp and grits are at Poogan’s Porch, but also, like, everyone says that. i’m leaning towards Husk, just because it sounds cooler. check out their menu here: [https://www.huskcharleston.com/]
I spent the afternoon wandering around the French Quarter, dodging horse-drawn carriages and trying not to trip over the uneven pavement. it’s a maze, honestly. i almost walked into a fountain - a really ornate one, covered in moss. it was kinda beautiful, in a slightly unsettling way. i overheard a group of college students debating whether the pirates really buried treasure in the city. they were pretty convinced, fueled by cheap beer and a shared delusion. i’m not judging. i’ve had my share of delusions.
I found this amazing vintage shop called ‘The Gilded Lily’ - it’s crammed full of silk scarves, antique jewelry, and ridiculously oversized hats. i scored a gorgeous 70s velvet blazer for $30. it’s probably haunted, but i’m not complaining. i heard that the owner, Beatrice, used to be a stage magician. she’s a little… intense. she kept staring at me while i was trying on the blazer. it was weird.
Speaking of weird, I stumbled upon a street artist painting murals on a brick wall near Waterfront Park. he was using this crazy technique with sponges and spray paint - it looked like he was creating a whole underwater world. it was mesmerizing. he said he was inspired by the city’s history and the stories of the enslaved people who built it. it’s a heavy topic, but important to remember. check out his work here: [https://www.instagram.com/streetartcharleston/]
I grabbed some oysters at 167 Raw - they were ridiculously fresh. someone told me that the bartender, Finn, can predict the weather based on the tides. i didn’t ask him to, but i’m considering it. i’m also pretty sure i saw a ghost. or maybe it was just a particularly persistent pigeon. it’s hard to tell in this city. if you get bored, Savannah is just a short drive away.
I’m planning on exploring Fort Sumter tomorrow - it’s where the Civil War started, apparently. a little depressing, but historically significant. i’m also hoping to find a decent cup of coffee. i need it. i’m seriously craving something strong and black. i heard that Cuvee Coffee has the best espresso in town. i’m going to check it out. [https://www.cuvee.coffee/]
Okay, I’m officially exhausted. my feet hurt, my brain is buzzing, and i’m pretty sure i’ve developed a slight addiction to sweet tea. this place is a mess, but a beautiful, chaotic mess. i’m going to go find a dark corner and try to sleep. maybe i’ll dream about those numbers again. or maybe i’ll just dream about shrimp and grits.
Here’s a map of the area:
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