A Day in Savannah

Yesterday we took a trip to Savannah for a cheerleading competition, the Savannah Diamond Championships. We only made it a day trip, and spent most of the day at the Savannah International Trade and Convention Center, but did get out in town for a few hours.

At the Convention Center, I don't recommend the bathrooms that are on the floor on the convention hall. The Men's Room was always dirty and out of soap, though my wife said that the Women's had an attendant always cleaning. The Center itself is quite nice.

Right outside the Center, between it and the Westin Hotel, is the Trade Center landing for the Savannah Belles Ferry. The ferry is a free passenger ferry with stops at the River Street by City Hall, the Savannah Marriott Hotel, and the Trade Center.

The girls loved riding the ferry, though the weather yesterday was quite chilly. We rode it from the Trade Center to River Street and back.

Views on the river

While on River Street, we stopped for lunch at Spanky's.



Spanky's is known for their pizza, so I went with the pizza burger. It was good, of course not as good as Angelo's. The service was less than desirable, our waiter was quite slow at just about everything, and they ran out of Fat Tire on tap. My wife loved her burger, and the girls enjoyed watching the container ships move up the river while eating lunch.

A stop at Savannah's Candy Kitchen and we were done with our excursion into Savannah. Back to the Trade Center for more cheer.

A night at the Raffles

I walked into a courtyard at the Raffles Hotel in Singapore with a group of Sailors and made our way to the bar. The Singapore Sling was the drink ordered by everyone, until it came to me. Not being a fan of fruity drinks, I ordered whiskey. After the first round of drinks, the bartender asked if the rest of the guys were done drinking ladies drinks and offered whiskey and rum. Indeed, the Singapore Sling is for women.

Later the bartender asked where we were from. “Georgia,” I responded. He looked at me for a moment and said “Oh, the United States,” as if he had a moment of realization. Remembering I hadn't clarified which Georgia, I confirmed his suspicion and offered further clarification that would probably upset most Georgians, except perhaps for those in the South Ossetia, “We aren't Russian.” Then, in a way of winning back over the hearts and minds of the people of Georgia, and with a sense of American exceptionalism, announced “we hate the Russians!” “Don't say that around here!” the bartender said, as his eyes quickly glanced behind me at the others in the courtyard. No KGB agents came to visit me during the rest of my stay in Singapore.