the low country

Charleston, South Carolina and all things toes in the water, ass in the sand.

I think it is safe to say that I am a creature of habit. Whether it is the comfort I find in my morning routine consisting of copious amounts of coffee and a good book, or religiously watching the sunset at my favorite spot, there is a certain comfortability I have always found in routine.

Yet, the one time this craving for comfort goes out the window is in my travels. As someone who strives to see and do it all, traveling back to the same places never really “tickled my fancy.” Who wants to go back to the same old beach town when I can spend a week riding my bike all over a new island pretending to be a local and finding all the best places to fawn over?

Well, when it comes to Charleston, South Carolina, you can call me a liar. I don’t know what they put in the air here, but it’s utterly addictive. From the old-style, southern mansions that line the water, the tall marsh grasses that, according to my mom, transport you into an “african safari”, the birds that join you for that morning cup of joe you know I love, the salty oysters that make an appearance on every menu, and the people that grace you with their grins on every corner, this place has something special.

When I came here in July, I knew this town was going to win me over. It didn’t even take a full day for me to be convinced of its charm. One mile into my run and I was seen petting horses on drawn carriages and stopping into the local coffee shops.

This is a place where it is easy to feel like a local. I mean all you need to do is like a good oyster from Leon’s, glasses of frosé on a rooftop bar, sand on your toes, and to not be afraid of a little, a lot, of humidity.

This time around though, I got to bring some of my favorite people. Our days were filled with crisp high noons and sandwiches on the beach, terrible attempts at surfing in way too revealing of bikinis (my deepest apologies to anyone who saw way more than they bargained for last week), chai lattes by the pier, homemade cocktails under marsh sunsets, and trips into town.

We stayed in Folly Beach which is about a 25 minute drive outside of downtown Charleston. But don’t get me wrong, this place is the shit. Plain and simple.

It’s the kind of place you never dare to wear a pair of shoes and everyone knows way too much about your love life.

I mean, if Thomas Rhett is willing to go on a guys trip and grace us with his own rendition of “Hotel California” at a hole-in-the-wall bar that literally translates to Ugly Boy in English, it must be good. But no really, what are the odds that you run into Thomas Rhett at a place called Chico Feo?

It was the moments like watching the sunset on a small boat with your dad and waking up early to chase the sunrise that make me want to come back a million times over. There is just no joy in this world quite like exploring some place new with the people you love.

The beauty may get you to come, but it’s the charm that will make you itch to return.

Charleston, South Carolina, you have my heart.