THE FUN, THE FEEL, THE FUNKY

                       

"Thoughts drifting to a sunny getaway?" YES!  One vacation reviewer says, “Tybee Island has a laid-back atmosphere, small-community feel and funky vibe.” 

                   Ha, ha, funky vibe.

You could say that.  Remember the dinosaur statue with Christmas tinsel hanging from his gaping mouth?  It was July!  

Then there was the cat.  Spencer said it was "the laziest cat I ever saw" living at the Beachview Bed and Breakfast.  We walked up from the breezy beach, took a turn to go between the patron's cars to the outdoor shower, and walked right upon this mature, well-fed, mostly black cat.  It had a white vest chest and was laying in the shade in the same place in the same parking spot under the same car every day.

If ever there was an un-curious cat, this was it!  Never did we see him eating from a dish, chasing a bird, or browsing through the bushes.  All his nine lives were safely in tact.

Sometimes he would rouse himself to raise his head to boringly gaze at us.  Most times he'd just lay there calm and convinced we'd know our place and step around him!

The Royal Palm Motel, too, had an outside shower.  The bed and breakfast had an enclosed one, looked much like an outhouse of the mid-west.  The one at the motel was just a drain in the ground, and a pipe for sending water up to the rain showerhead. 

Homeowners of Tybee didn't want sand in their carpets, or on their hardwood floors, or in the plumbing.  It was a real problem.  

So was the carpet in our Royal Palm Motel room.  I asked the motel owner about it.   I wondered if they'd used some strong chemical to clean it.  He said, "No, it's just all the sand.  In the fall we're going to replace all the rooms' [carpet] with linoleum-like flooring."  

I told him, "Sorry about all the linens."  "We had to wash our feet multiple times and the white washrags and towels are not so white."  One evening Sis laughingly went to each of us as we were relaxing, after a good meal of seafood, and while watching TV, to wash our feet.  It didn't matter.  A walk back and forth through the room on that awful carpet and we again had feet that were black as that lazy cat!

Speaking of feet, we went to the Crab Shack "Where the elite eat with their bare feet."  Too funny.  We didn't eat with bare feet, but there were plenty of other oddities.

The place had outdoor seating, amongst 100 year old live oaks, on a planked deck, right on the bank of Chimney Creek.  The original menu on 4x8 sheet of plywood still hangs nearby. A large upright faux alligator greeted us.  Dotted throughout the tables were water stations -- each with a sink and towels.   

And, oh, the tables, ha, ha, I laugh thinking about them.  They were about the size of a card table, with a raised section in the middle that held condiments and needs like napkins, but mostly the raised section covered a large hole in the middle - easy access to your own personal trashcan!

To add to this quirkiness, after eating crabs, crawdads, shrimp, potatoes, and sausage, you could walk-off your lethargy by touring the live baby gator lagoon!

The gators were inert.   We wanted pictures.  So, I leaned over the railing, let out a holler and clapped my hands.   They reacted.  We got our pictures.  John reacted too, "Don't do that!  They're alligators!"

Well, sheesh, what's to fear?  They were babies, 5 feet beneath us, and caged -- the best kind of alligators.

Oh, and don't forget Crab Shack cats. Though one Crab Shack sign says, "It's illegal to feed the alligators,”  the other sign says "Crab Shack cats are not feral, they are family.  Don't feed the cats."

And this was my kind of getaway:  sunny, funny, and funky.