Sand and Surf!

You know the American movies? I mean the ones that show the gorgeous coastal houses, with the wraparound porch, the huge windows and rocking chairs out the front? Those houses most definitely exist.

Wilmington was full of these quintessentially American homes, in shades of blue, pink and white, with flowers and rockers and American flags flying tall. We ooohed and ahhhhed as we passed row after row after row finally arriving at our hotel, which looked like a big, huge…block of concrete, “The Blockade Runner” (which Mum later christened “Bladerunner…no idea why).

Our room was beautiful, overlooking the ocean and the hotel gardens. We spent the afternoon splashing in the beach and the headed to the local South Beach Grill for a seafood dinner.

Our days at Wilmington were leisurely spent. We swam in the beach and pool, lounged in deck chairs, went to the hot dog shack down the road and gorged ourselves on the unlimited icy sweet tea (a North Carolina staple, though we quickly discovered it needed dilutiting..sweet tea is most definitely that).

The only real physically strenuous activity was our attempts at playing the corn hole toss. The aim: throw a small beanbag from a distance away onto a sloped platform and into the hole in the end. Simple, right? No. It was IMPOSSIBLE, it took me over half an hour to even get one in, and Mum and Dad weren’t that better!!

On our second night we put our name down and waited for a table at a seafood restaurant across the water. In the mean time we decided to drive to Wilmington, the nearest big town to get a feel of the place. On our way down a little street, through virtually a forest we saw the flashing lights of a police breathalyzer set up. As we slowed down and Dad rolled down his window, a truly Southern cop came to our window. He was truly Southern in two explicit ways: the smile on his face and the thick, drawling accent that was almost incomprehensible.

“H’ya’ll doin tonigh? Y’all go your license sir?”

He looked at little bemused at the Australian license and International Driver’s License that Dad handed him, and thoroughly confused when Dad began to explain in his Australian-French accent.

“Now jus wait a minut. Where y’all from?”

“Austraaya?” “Ain’t never heard of that before!”

Then realizing we meant a country and not a state he exclaimed

“OH AUSTRALIA!!! Hey look here Carl, Jack! You ever see an Austraayan driver’s licesne before?!”

The cops gathered around the examine the licsense and us, breathalysed Dad and sent us on our way.

We were still laughing at the experience when we arrived back to our restaurant.

Like every waiter in North Carolina, the staff were bubbly, efficient and the food came out quickly. And like everything else in North Carolina, our food was fried.

But deliciously fried.. “shrimp”, and calamari and …the scallops.

These scallops were HUGE, much larger than a 50c piece and delicately fried in beautiful batter. They were the most delicious scallops we had ever eaten!

We went home raving about them and chuckling about the typical southern cop.

***

 As our time at the coast drew to a close, we set off for Southport (where the movie “Safe Haven” was filmed. I was particularly excited, having just seen the movie and how beautiful it was. It didn’t disappoint.

A tiny town, it was on the water with more gorgeous houses, and cute little places to eat. We hadn’t reserved a hotel and so tried out a few full places, before getting the number a reserving a relatively cheap hotel. When we arrived, well…it started to look relatively expensive.

Set in what could have been a caravan park in another life, with cheaply made rows of rooms was our hotel. The room had old-fashioned bedspreads, a rattling air-conditioned and a sad little bathroom.

All part of the experience.

We hopped in the car and drove to the other side, with more beaches and lighthouses. The lighthouse was underwhelming, but the beach was long and had brand new boardwalks down with information about local animals. We saw the cages built along the beach to protect the turtle nests from predators and wished we were at the right time to see the babies make their way to the ocean.

On our way back, completely starving we stopped at an interesting establishment for an early entrée. The staff were very southern, the place was shabby, with plastic chairs, and tables and fat clientele, lonely pictures hung on the walls and the manager’s wife’s hair was in a very bad sixties bouffant.

We ordered fried scallops (in some attempt to recreate the deliciousness of the other night) and tried the “Hush Puppies” served everywhere. “Hush Puppies” turned out to be fried dough. We tried it once and that was definitely enough.

Though not bad food, we decided to head back to “The Frying Pan” a restaurant overlooking the ocean, with a little more charm than that place could offer us. Coconut shrimp, calamari, fish, sweet tea and a hot waiter later we went back to our dingy hotel, where I started packing for my Robertson retreat. I would be meeting everyone for the first time the next evening.

We finished up our time at Southport with breakfast at a Southport Café (pumpkin muffin and BLT), a quick trip to the Maritime museum and the “Safe Haven” display.

As we drove back to Durham, everything started to feel much more real. The holiday was ending and my new life beginning.