Our last day in Savannah, we tried to eat at the famous Paula Dean Lady and Sons restaurant, but the line was insurmountable; apparently you need to show up at 8am for a noon seating. Whatever, I’ll just eat dinner at her home on Sea Island next year. Get working on that, Hannah.

Before leaving town, we stopped by the Mikvah Israel Synagogue, which is the third oldest in the country, and the only gothic Jewish building I’ve ever seen. It being Sunday, the place was locked, but a fellow tourist had called the rabbi to come down and show us around. He with arrived with a “Shalom Y’all” and a Hawaiian shirt, kvetching that we had removed him from his hot tub. Still, he gave us a tour, and was quite proud of their history and collected artifacts, although it went on a little long for my shiksa.

We hoped to find cheap fireworks in South Carolina, and were not disappointed. There was an eponymous shack mere feet from the border, and we bought as many as our wallets and conscience would allow. Then back into the car towards Florida, stopping in Jacksonville for an iPhone. Ruth made me drive the rest of the way, while she played with her new toy.

At Janet and Lou’s beach condo, we began construction of a monument to our lasting glory. Ruth wanted an art deco skyscraper, but it’s hard to make vertical walls without internal support. We compromised on the best one can do with sand, a pyramid. We made a full a Gizan complex, complete with Sphinx and Queens’ tombs.

Had dinner at Hurricane Pattie’s, which like all hidden seafood gems is tucked away by a marina. Their happy hour specials, actually from 3 to 7, include cheap oysters, excellent cajun grouper, and tasty fried shrimp. Ruth was attacked by a giant crawfish, and I posed with my pirate alter ego.