I made it into Beaufort early. A town older than the United States, the regal houses on Bay Street have overlooked the river for centuries. And while enjoying a fruit salad at on a cafe porch, a gentleman inquired about my excursion while informing me about his upcoming bike/kayak adventure.
Still with 70 miles to pedal to Charleston, I arrived at sunset and found my hostel without any issue. It was a full house when I arrived and I quickly made several aquaintence. Within 24 hours I had a posse and the six of us raised hell for the ensuing 48 hours. Two left the hostel on Monday to move into their own apartment a few blocks away (a wonderful place to relax away from the backpacker atmosphere). Two others received citations for urinating in public on Monday evening. And one guy from England educated me about American football. Apparently he's quite the fanatic. He founded a club team in the UK and now is trying to attend some NFL games while he's in the States.
After letting Tuesday night's rain pass, I awoke late, took some time for bike repairs, and met the group for breakfast at Hominy. It proved to be hands-down the best meal of the ride in the best city of the ride.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
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