Thursday WAS better. I was almost over my cold, which was a very good thing. As we got started too late for breakfast, we started the day with lunch at the original Carey Hilliard’s on Skidaway Road, where we were served by a very nice lady named Savannah (yes, Savannah…) who was dying to tell us where to party. In retrospect, we probably should have asked her where to find the Lady Chablis (of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil fame), but we didn’t think of it. She did, however, recommend a good breakfast spot for Friday.
We toured the ‘burbs early and then headed downtown to see all the “official” sights, one of which was the really scary line waiting for reservations at Paula Deen’s restaurant. Said line cured any craving we might have had to eat there.
Downtown Savannah was really nice, what with all the moss and the trees and the history lying around everywhere. It’s much less precious and cute than Charleston, and it’s possible to imagine mere mortals living amid the blocks and blocks of quaint. I rather liked it, especially the sort of spooky underground area in front of the Cotton Exchange.
After a rather long drive, we found A Taste of India, the perfect place for dinner. Who would have thought that I’d find the best Indian restaurant I’d ever visited at the front of a nondescript office building behind a mall in Savannah, Georgia? It was quite amazing, despite the decor which was disturbingly reminiscent of a country-themed queer bar I once visited in Las Vegas. It seemed a little like what I’d imagine an Indian restaurant in Cheyenne, Wyoming might look like. The food, again, was incredible.