I’M HALF HOME in Brooklyn; my other half is still down south somewhere. Coming home from a vacation, even one of six days, always makes me wish I appreciated being away even more when I had the chance. Certain patterns and behaviors associated with “real life” — lousy sleep, money anxiety, word-game addiction, uninspiring routine, eating out of deli containers — reassert themselves only too quickly upon my return.
Happily, I’ll have the opportunity to test my vacation appreciation skills again, when I go to Mexico — the arty city of San Miguel de Allende, in the country’s heartland — in two weeks’ time.
Meanwhile, I’m not done with Savannah. Can’t let my photos of beachy Tybee Island, below, Savannah’s Hamptons equivalent, go to waste.
The last day’s urban wanderings included the Regency-style c. 1819 Owens-Thomas House, designed by William Jay, a 23-year-old architect from Bath, England, with early indoor plumbing, doors to nowhere and orange and blue stained glass windows. (No photos allowed inside, unfortunately.)
More Savannah street sights:
A local sent us to check out Alex Raskin Antiques in the Noble Hardee Mansion on Monterey Square, below, five floors of genteel decrepitude filled with 18th and 19th century furnishings and objects. Not a stick of mid-century modern to be found!