2009-08-19: A quiet Wednesday evening provided just the right circumstances to showcase the elegance of Charleston. The people of the city were calm, cheerful, and polite, even to myself, an obvious outsider who had just crawled out of a muddy swamp. The city was clean and not at all crowded. Historical buildings were abundant. I strolled randomly around the Radcliffeborough area and its adjacent neighborhoods. Quite serendipitously, I walked through a wrought iron gate down a narrow, foliage lined sidewalk, and came into a cemetery behind a Unitarian church. At first it seemed overgrown, and it was obviously very old (as tombstones showed dates of death in the mid-19th century), but then I realized that its particular look had been intentionally maintained. All that said, it was quite beautiful, and such a great surprise to stumble upon.
Later, on a whim, I decided that I would find a local restaurant for dinner. And on another whim, I looked for, and found, a French restaurant. I knew I'd be out of place (it was probably the muddy clothes) but I was undeterred, as my mannerisms would make up for my shabby attire, I hoped. I enjoyed Coquille St. Jacques, and a bit of beer and wine as well. The place was called La Fourchette, and I definitely recommend it. I stayed at a local hostel that night, and while it looked like it had been nice at one point, it seems to have deteriorated somewhat. Still, it was inexpensive so I tolerated it.
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