Seeking Southern Solitude

There’s just something about a lonely Southern road that makes you want to wander. To ditch the people, the push notifications, all of it, and just bask in the freedom of the American South. And for a charming weekend in early June, that’s exactly what we did.

My husband Johnrick and I had come to the Lowcountry (a leafy, lush, Atlantic-adjacent swath of South Carolina and Georgia) after a very hectic year, so we were hoping to find time for ourselves. But given the fact that our visit coincided with the beginning of the peak summer season down in this beach-y part of the country, we weren’t sure what we were in for.

Would cosmopolitan Charleston be brimming with college partiers? Would Kiawah Island—where native sea turtles share pristine beach access with some of the country’s most marvelous vacation homes—feel relaxing, or overwhelming? And what about Savannah? Would we find peace in Georgia’s antebellum jewel, or a bunch of raucous bachelor/ette parties? Johnrick and I love a celebration, to be sure, but we hoped for a little alone time as we packed for Charleston, S.C., where our southern sojourn began.

For those who have never been there, they call this historic port the “Holy City” because of all the churches that line its cobblestone alleys and wide avenues. Since we landed at night, we didn’t get a sense of the city until the following morning, when I swept back the curtain in our room in downtown Charleston’s beautiful Dewberry Hotel and was greeted by a steeple cleaving the slate-gray Carolina sky.

After breakfast, we saddled up The Dewberry’s complimentary bikes and ventured out to explore Charleston’s picturesque Battery neighborhood. We could not stop taking photos of the pretty houses of Rainbow Row. The area was practically abandoned when we got there (except for one or two selfie-takers). Score!

After some more exploring, we hit the road in our Ford Mustang convertible, heading south on the Maybank Highway. The Lowcountry looks like the setting for a movie, and beautiful nature scenes were on our mind when we stopped at the majestic Angel Oak, a massive tree halfway between “Chucktown” and Kiawah Island that is estimated to be nearly 500 years old. Its ancient, serpentine limbs stretch out in every direction (many are 150+ feet!) and create this dense canopy that dampens sound and makes you feel like you’re the only people within earshot. So peaceful.

Then we arrived in Kiawah. I had no idea that this slice of beachfront paradise existed! Once we crossed the bridge over the Kiawah River, it was as if we were transported. The real world seemed to disappear in the rearview as we cruised by flourishing flora and luxe island retreats. Our hotel for the evening was The Sanctuary—a perfect name for this serene refuge. The room was bright and airy, with an adorable balcony that looked out over the hotel’s sweeping oceanfront lawn. We sat out at twilight, noshed on a cheese plate, and listened to waves on the beach. It was like having the Atlantic all to ourselves.

After breakfast at the hotel the following morning, we jumped back in the car and set course for Savannah. This was the longest leg of our trip, and it was a rainy day in the Lowcountry, so it took a while. But honestly, that was fine by us. As we cruised along Route 17, while rain pattered down on the convertible’s roof and the verdant, vacant wetlands whipped by, we felt so removed from everything...and yet so connected to each other. We talked about how we missed going on road trips, singing our hearts out in the car while jamming on our favorite songs, and making pit stops to get gas and snacks. We have been so busy traveling to other countries that we haven’t gone on a road trip for a while now. It was such a special moment.

In Savannah, we posted up at the super-chic Bohemian Hotel. Our room had a seashell chandelier and an adorable parlor for two with floor-to-ceiling windows, where Johnrick watched the boats go by on the river. A highlight of that first night was definitely our meal at The Grove, where the tasty hummus reminded us of our trip to Jordan. We weren’t sure what to expect from Savannah’s food scene, but were totally blown away by pretty much every spot we hit.

Early the next morning, with the clouds parted, we drove just out of town to Bonaventure Cemetery, a stately and totally sedate historical landmark that’s been around for almost 150 years. We broke out our cameras and new tripod and wandered among the beautiful weathered gravestones, capturing images of Spanish moss and reveling in the silence.

Later the rain picked up again, and we retired to our room at the Bohemian. Johnrick and I shared chocolate strawberries and Champagne, and reflected—on our journey, on our relationship, and on the restorative power of a road trip through the Lowcountry less traveled.

Start planning your own romantic road trip
with Enterprise today.