Category Archives: food travel

Asheville: Loophole of the Bible Belt

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Oh, could most tourist destinations learn a thing or two from Asheville, North Carolina. This mid-size city in the Appalachian Mountains has lots going for it, not the least of which is the stunning scenery. On the urban end, the city’s energized and funky downtown core offers up a nice mix of used bookstores, speciality shops and independently-owned bars and restaurants. And most of it is dog friendly too. Rigby was welcomed into one store after another – especially the Three Dog Bakery where the sign on the door informed customers, Owners on Leash Welcome.

The locals like to joke about liberal-leaning Asheville being “the loophole in the Bible Belt.” There’s lots to see and do, including music, although we focused our time in the city on food, walking, soaking in the architecture and enjoying the work of local artisans. Our highlights? Read on . . .

Art Deco: Downtown is a mix of beautifully restored heritage buildings – with the nation’s largest collection of Art Deco architecture outside of Miami.

Southern eats: Even the funky-style eateries support the culture and heritage of the Southern mountains. We ate a great meal at Early Girl Eatery with its all-day breakfast and Southern standards on the menu (biscuits and gravy, fried green tomatoes, shrimp and grits and a North Carolina specialty, grilled pimento cheese sandwich).

Asheville Bee Charmer: Think all things bee-related and you get the idea. The new Bee Charmer has two locations, one in the heart of town and the other in the up-and-coming arts district of West Asheville. Owner Jillian Kelly is 100 per cent committed to connecting with ethical beekeepers around the world. The shop’s warmly- glowinghoney tasting bar is a blast and a way to try before you buy while learning a little about the intricacies of bees and honey production. If it’s about bees, Jillian knows it all.

Battery Park Book Exchange & Champagne Bar: We love most bookstores but we really, really loved Battery Park on Page Avenue (right in the centre of town). A visit is like slipping into a good friend’s sumptuously-decorated living room – couches and chairs, artwork on the walls, thick Persian rugs, table lamps – with the addition of thousands of (mainly) used books filling rows and rows of tall shelves. Music softly plays in the background (“we’re a conversational bar”) and well-behaved dogs are welcome. Owner Thomas Wright quips that he is “selling buggy whips” but we were instantly hooked. Oh yeah, there’s a well-appointed bar that serves champagne and wine. So comfortable, it was hard to leave.

Song of the Wood: A short drive outside Asheville is the stunning home and workshop of hammered dulcimer maker, Jerry Read Smith. Jerry is a skilled artisan and gracious host who loves to talk music, craft and woodworking to anyone with an appreciation for fine workmanship. He showed us his latest commission – number 950 in a long career than spans three decades. “Every single aspect of it makes a difference. A mahogany bridge will be different than a rosewood bridge,” he says. “The more you play it, the better it stays in tune.” For those who don’t have a clue what a hammered dulcimer is, take a look and listen at his excellent website (tip: it’s a percussion string instrument with about 100 strings in five octaves). He describes the unique sound best when he says: “Every note rings as long as it wants to. I think of it as music set free.”

Biltmore Estate: This magnificent piece of architecture – at 250 rooms it is America’s largest house – is a peek into how the .001 per cent live. The estate built by George Vanderbilt in 1895 stretches across 8,000 acres, getting in and out involves parking and shuttle rides and once you are in the estate home you will be agog at the antiques, furnishings, architecture and lifestyle. It’s an Asheville must-see.

 

Banjo + Shelby = Earl Scruggs

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The banjo warrants a lot more respect than it generally gets. The place to learn this – if you doubt us – is the Earl Scruggs Center in Shelby, North Carolina. The instrument came to America in the holds of slave ships: like many other imports, it was taken up and embraced by the Irish/Scots settlers and remade into a distinctly American phenomenon. And of the many who have picked out a song there is no one with the stature of homeboy Earl Scruggs (1924-2012). This hardscrabble son of a sharecropper did for the banjo what Jimi Hendrix did for the electric guitar: he showed everyone what was possible.

Shelby is at the hub of the Blue Ridge Music Trails of North Carolina, which wind through the foothills of the state. This region produced more than its share of country, bluegrass, old-time and gospel music – and the fusing of these styles gave rise to a uniquely American sound and sensibility. Performed at the level of execution that Scruggs and someone like comedian Steve Martin achieve, it is nothing short of breathtaking to listen to. If your first impression of Earl Scruggs calls to mind the theme music of the Beverly Hillbillies, well, okay. Flatt and Scruggs have impressed themselves into popular music and culture forever.

But the three-finger rolling style that Scruggs innovated — “ten notes per second with a melody in the middle of it” — transformed that instrument and launched, with Bill Monroe, a style that finds a massive worldwide audience and paved the way for next generation innovators like Béla Fleck, the jazz banjo virtuoso.

The Earl Scruggs Center does justice to his music and history. Centred in downtown Shelby, it is a state of the art exhibition – complete with a banjo petting zoo – that brings you into Scruggs’ life, his art and his politics.

Your first encounter is with the instruments of his childhood, behind glass, where you see his fathers’ guitar and violin. Music, you discern, was their only form of entertainment growing up in the hill country around Shelby.

The Center tells this story in multiple interactive ways. You can strum an electronic banjo or guitar at a large interactive digital video table where you can also isolate individual tracks to hear them out of context from the music. You can review the history of early bluegrass – from the union of Bill Monroe and Earl Scruggs – and then trace the history of Earl through his opposition to the Vietnam War and his fusion of his cherished bluegrass with the rock music of his sons, in the Earl Scruggs Review, in the early 1970s. It’s fascinating and sobering and you come away with a whole new respect for the man and the music.

The coolest thing about Scruggs was that he carried the music he loved all his life into every change that came through his life – “chasing the light,” as he described it, never letting his fingers rest until he picked his last roll.

ALSO IN THE AREA:

  • The Don Gibson Theater is an intimate (400 seats), soft-seat concert and film venue. Don Gibson is best known for his country hit, I Can’t Stop Loving You, which has been recorded by more than 700 artists.
  • The local Alston Bridges BBQ serves pulled pork with a vinegar-based sauce (true North Carolina style), hushpuppies and their signature red slaw (ketchup is the secret addition).

Georgia’s rich music history: Athens and Augusta

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Cool things come out of university towns. The critical mass of students questing for identity and meaning, the energy of artists looking to push their own – and your – boundaries, the enabling atmosphere of a major learning institution in an era of political and cultural ferment – this combination is likely to give rise to innovations some of which will proceed to transform far beyond the municipal boundaries of their city of origin. So it is with Athens, site of the University of Georgia at Athens (UGA) and home to at least two (so far) institutions of the 20th century’s music scene: The B-52s and R.E.M.

Athens seems like a cool place to live. It’s certainly a cool place to visit. The city seems to grow out of the university grounds – which are lovely, spacious and extravagant. It’s a big city on a human scale. Lots of funky coffee shops, restaurants and bistros, bars featuring live music, a couple of cool bookstores, comic stores and used vinyl and CD outlets (including the famous WUXTRY – Georgia’s oldest independently-owned record store – where the members of R.E.M. would congregate). These co-exist on pleasantly shaded streets with upper-end shoe, clothing and sunglasses shops making for a pleasant walking experience. We did a tour with Paul Butchart, a local historian who gives Walking Music Tours of Athens’ rich musical history. Like everywhere else, live music venues opened and closed and relocated and went under at a furious pace – but out of this at least two major institutions attained escape velocity and transformed a corner of popular music.

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I did make a point, some years ago, of doing some serious listening to Michael Stipe, et al., – who emerged from various university courses at UGA to form R.E.M. These guys produced album after album of intelligent rock music. From their punk roots playing the dives and student bars in Athens, they grabbed a significant share of critical and popular appeal and rode it to its natural conclusion. When the band realized they had attained all there was to attain in pop stardom, they wound it up. What they left behind is a catalogue of excellent, insightful, danceable and thoughtful rock and roll music. Whatever the various members do next, they can be proud of R.E.M.’s legacy of music and politics.

Augusta became the home of The Godfather of Soul, Mr. James Brown. Here’s a guy with a legacy to astound. Is there another figure from the 20th century who lived long enough to put his stamp on so many different styles of music? His legacy touches rock, blues, R&B, rap, hip-hop and, of course, soul.

Not bad for a former shoeshine boy from the streets of Augusta. His life size statue stands on the centre of the boulevard on downtown Broad Street.

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Of course James Brown – they call him “Mr. Brown” in Augusta – showed promise very early. From there it was just a matter of turning talent into opportunity, but if Brown had anything other than talent it was vision: a crystalline conviction of what his sound and stage deportment was all about.

You can divine some of this at the Augusta Museum of History where they have curated a James Brown exhibit that takes you from his early youth to the final performance of his unnaturally long career. A few tidbits:

  • 95% of his stage suits and costumes were handmade.
  • He often played 300 shows a year.
  • He was the originator of “starting on the one.”
  • He was a self-taught musician with a love for gospel music.
  • He had perfect pitch.
  • He was a highly religious man.
  • He had a full hair salon in his home.
  • The dance moves he created circa 1968 were later copied by Michael Jackson and Justin Timberlake.

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There’s lots more to see in Augusta too. This was – before the Civil War – a prosperous economic crossroads through which cotton and various other commodities passed en route to the ports of Savannah and Charleston. In the course of its economic development, wealthy families injected their fortunes into some pretty impressive – even by today’s standards – real estate and architecture. Well worth seeing. As is the lovely Riverwalk that features a perfect little amphitheatre looking over the river.

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EATING & SLEEPING IN ATHENS: We stopped for lunch on the dog-friendly patio at Big City Bread Cafe for a delicious Turkey Burger with a side order of Bleu Cheese Fries (yes, house cut fries topped with blue cheese and served with garlic aioli and scallions).

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We bypassed the campgrounds and stayed overnight at the dog-friendly, LEED Gold Certified Hotel Indigo, a short walk to the downtown Athens area. The service was great and the beds even better!

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LOCAL LEGENDS FROM AUGUSTA:

  • Ty Cobb retired in Augusta
  • Bobby James brought Masters level golf to Augusta
  • James Brown, Oliver Hardy, Butterfly McQueen, Laurence Fishburne and Brenda Lee are all from Augusta.

WATCH THE THEATRE: The film Get On Up (2014) is about the life of Mr. James Brown.

Macon: “Something in the water”

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Travelling from north to south our focus was on sticking as close to the coastline as possible and experiencing everything that is unique about where salt water meets land – from shrimp boats to lighthouses to incredible stretches of wild beach.

Once we hit the borderline at Georgia-Florida, we bounced back northward, but on the return trip we headed inland, looking for music destinations and regional food highlights. Boy, did we ever find a goldmine at the small city of Macon, Georgia!

There’s a word for it: SYNERGY. It’s that magic moment when – for reasons no one fully understands – the total is greater than the sum of its parts. This happens all the time, but occasionally breaks out with transformative impact. Macon is one of those places where – at a particular moment – big things happened because the stars aligned.

It brings to mind the establishment of Capricorn Records in 1969 and the recording of the first Allman Brothers Band album. Although not a commercial success at the time, the record has since come to be seen, in the words of one critic, as “the best debut album ever delivered by an American blues band, a bold, powerful, hard-edged, soulful essay in electric blues with a native Southern ambience.” More to the point, the record put Macon on the map as the preferred destination for what would come to the called Southern Rock.

Craig savoured the displays at The Big House, a lovingly curated collection of thousands of articles – instruments, clothing, hand-written lyrics, posters, tickets and rooms of furnishings. The Big House is the spiritual and actual home of the original Allman Brothers Band – the members lived and worked from here communally in the early 1970s. It is now a museum of all things ABB.

But Macon has other claims to boast too: it’s the city that birthed Little Richard and Otis Redding. This is an incredible amount of world-class talent for such a small city (population: 90,000). The locals like to joke that “it must be something in the water.”

Of Otis Redding there is much to say. He died at the peak of his considerable power, age 26, when his plane went down en route to a gig. But the 300 songs in his catalogue and the stamp he put onto R&B and soul music have long out-lived him. It’s ironic that his best-known song – (Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay – is so unlike most of the other songs in his catalogue, and that he never got to perform it. The plane crash that took his life was a mere three days after he recorded the piece. It was his biggest hit and his first million seller. But you have to see a performance, perhaps from his tour of the United Kingdom, of Try A Little Tenderness so see how this man could bring an audience to frenzy.

We had the chance to sit down with Redding’s daughter, Karla Redding, who reminisced about her dad. “My favourite piece is Love Man,” she said. “Because it’s a pure description of the man he was.” Karla spoke of his commitment to family first and foremost and his obsession with ice cream (especially butter pecan). After we left the Otis Redding Foundation and Mini-Museum we went to the waterfront to see the statue of Redding.

“Little Richard,” Wayne Penniman, is authoritatively one of the founders of rock ’n’ roll. In his induction to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Ringo Starr jokingly blames “Little Richard” – for whom they opened in Hamburg – for the sound and stage energy of The Beatles. No less a figure than Mick Jagger claimed that he “couldn’t believe the power of Little Richard onstage. He was amazing.” Richard’s life story exceeds anything in fiction: he veers in and out of several near encounters with death, finds Jesus, loses him, finds him again and is condemned and honoured along the way for being so far ahead of his time. At this point in time there is no Macon museum dedicated to Little Richard . . . but, who knows what’s coming soon?

We finished up our incredible Macon stay at the H&H Soul Food Restaurant. The H&H was a favourite of “starving musicians” who found friendly faces (and meals) in the original co-owners “Mama” Inez and “Mama” Louise. It’s a Macon institution, an authentic “meat & three” as these traditional Southern eateries are called. The menus offer a meat – from meatloaf to fried chicken – and a choice of three sides (mac & cheese, fried okra, sweet potatoes, collards, etc.). The Allman Brothers members ate here as did Otis Redding when he was a member of Johnny Jenkins’ Pinetoppers. The locals like to call the women who founded the H&H “the Matriarchs of Macon’s historical music scene.”

Topped it all off with a great overnight at the Lake Tobesofkee Arrowhead Campground just 15 minutes outside of town. Spotlessly clean, well maintained sites and dark, dark, dark at night.

South Carolina’s beautiful Lowcountry

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Spoiler alert: There is nothing we didn’t like about the Lowcountry just outside Beaufort called the Sea Islands, a collection of small islands huddled together, separated by tidal creeks and connected by short bridges.

The definite highlight was our stay at beautiful Hunting Island State Park – we loved it so much that we extended our visit for an additional five days. We’d set our alarm to a pre-sunrise hour, walk five minutes to the beach and be there for the sunrise over the Atlantic. In the distance there were shrimp boats (no doubt harvesting our dinner that evening). Rigby was fascinated by the small fiddler crabs scuttling along the sand (South Carolina beaches are on-leash dog friendly). The beach is long and luxurious, anchored by a lighthouse at one end and a sweeping curve of sand at the far reach. The early morning sun cast a warm glow on the palmetto palms that line the back of the dunes. It set up each day perfectly.

In addition to the natural beauty of the Lowcountry, this region is steeped in history.

There is a long tradition of shrimping. We’d stop at Gay Fish Co. (just at the bridge from St. Helena Island to Hunting Island) to buy the freshest shrimp we’d ever tasted. Half-a-dozen shrimp boats were tied to the rickety docks. Inside, the woman weighing our daily ration told us their docks stood in for the Alabama coastline in the filming of the shrimping scenes in the hit movie, Forrest Gump. On the wall there’s a framed photo of Tom Hanks and Gary Sinise playing out a scene from the movie.

We visited the Penn Center Historic District, preserving the Gullah community on St. Helena Island. The Gullah people – the descendants of enslaved Africans – are known for their unique culture and traditions imported from West Africa (including the weaving of beautiful sweetgrass baskets). Before bridges were built, these islands were isolated and the culture was protected and thrived. Gullah culture is all over the Sea Islands, but the Center is the only spot where the buildings remain intact and protected as a National Historic Site. When the program at the site opened it was the first school in the nation to provide formal education for freed African slaves; a path to liberation. Over time, the focus shifted to civil rights and social justice issues. Now, the Center is a part of the National Park Service’s Gullah Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor, preserving this unique culture, traditions and heritage.

One of our favourite meals was at the modest Gullah Grub Restaurant. Our lunch started with squares of rich cornbread, still warm from the oven, and glasses of “swamp water” (a mix of sweet tea and lemonade, called an Arnold Palmer on the mainland). Traditional Gullah dishes are based on whatever is seasonally available – rice, tomatoes, okra, fish. We ate local: a starter of she-crab soup, barbecue ribs and fried chicken with a side of collards doused with vinegar for some extra tang.

We’ll be back . . . again and again and again.

Beaufort . . . is amazing

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It’s not hard to see why the beautiful South Carolina town of Beaufort is a mecca for film shoots.

This is a lovely little – and rather prosperous – 300-year-old city sparkling with real estate that makes natural settings for Hollywood films. The Big Chill was shot here. The Prince of Tides, The Great Santini and Forrest Gump were also shot in and around Beaufort. The town has a stunning natural setting looking out over the Port Royal Sound, enframed by small islands that conjure up a history rich in Antebellum and post-war prosperity and peace.

Named Best Small Southern Town by Southern Living, a Top 25 Small City Arts Destination by American Style, and a Top 50 Adventure Town by National Geographic Adventure, this second-oldest city in South Carolina, chartered in 1711, is a collection of well-cared for boutiques and small enterprises along a couple of nicely manicured downtown streets that converge onto the beautifully planned and executed Henry C. Chambers Waterfront Park – almost worth visiting on its own.

But the real value resides in walking the residential side streets and drinking in the luxurious architecture and laneways lined by Spanish-moss draped live oaks – some of which are so old and large that thick branches actually bend to the ground in places. It’s a fascinating sight.

We took a short drive from Beaufort to Parris Island, home to the east coast boot camp for the United States and the only boot Marine camp for women. We were headed to the museum, an expertly curated history of the Marines and a comprehensive overview of the history of Santa Elena, the Spanish colony that founded the island community back in the mid-1500s.

The town opens its doors for dog owners. We had lunch on the patio at Panini’s on the Waterfront and were introduced to an Arnold Palmer, a typical Southern drink made of half sweet tea and half lemonade (our new favourite). A bowl of water appeared tableside for Rigby. The restaurant also has a special menu for dogs. We kept to our shrimp-every-day creed and had delicious Shrimp Cheese Steak sandwiches piled high with local shrimp (did we mention the “Alabama” shrimp boat scenes from Forrest Gump were filmed just a few miles away?).

If anything, Beaufort is made for walking. We fantasized about renting a house here for the Canadian winter months, a place where we could write, where we could be assured of some sunshine, where the roadways were not choking with traffic (or slick with ice) and where the general level of prosperity ensured that we could feel safe and intellectually stimulated. In short, we loved it.

In fact, we stretched our stay in this area by several days, just to take in the Gullah history, lovely beaches and campground on the Sea Islands near Beaufort. More on that next time.

Myrtle Beach: It’s not all golf and t-shirt shops

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Could there be more of a contrast between the sleepy and secluded villages of Down East and the hustle of Myrtle Beach? While the t-shirt shops and entertainment-style attractions lining Ocean Blvd. (think: Ripley’s and wax museums) are not really our style, we were able to find lots of low key and authentic experiences in the Myrtle Beach area.

We set up camp at the excellent Huntington Beach State Park, just south of the city – an amazing mix of maritime forest, marshlands and pristine beachfront.

Almost immediately across the road is an area highlight, Brookgreen Gardens, a quiet escape from the busyness of Myrtle Beach’s Grand Strand. We took a long meditative stroll through the manicured grounds that tastefully blend art and formal gardens with a wild nature preserve across 9,100-acres of lowcountry South Carolina.

Railroad magnate Archer Milton Huntington and his wife Anna, a talented sculptor, built the gardens at Brookgreen in 1932 on land that was once a massive rice plantation. The grounds marry ponds and Southern gardens with hundreds of pieces of sculpture by some of America’s most celebrated artists.

Between Brookgreen and Myrtle Beach is the small seaside hamlet of Murrells Inlet, famous for its fishing docks and fresh seafood. We lunched dockside at The Wicked Tuna which boasts a one-of-a-kind fresh seafood experience – if by fresh you mean that the fish comes right off the boat, and is handed directly into coolers in the restaurant’s ground floor.

Chef Dylan Foster knows he’s got a good thing going. “Benefit is, we control the quality of the fish right from the ocean to the restaurant. It can be fished in the morning and on the plate for lunch. It’s ocean to table.”

We had the day’s local catch: delish blackened mahi mahi tacos served with guacamole, tomatillo salsa and topped with a crispy house slaw.

In town, a stone’s throw from the ocean-hugging Boardwalk, we sat down with Victor Shamah, owner of a Myrtle Beach music institution, The Bowery. Trademarked as “the eighth wonder of the world” it’s surely one of the last authentic honky-tonks in the lower 48.

“The Bowery is an old fashioned draft beer joint,” explained Vic, the owner for the last 34 years. “We sell just live music and draft beer. Alabama was our house band from 1973 to 1980 – they started here. They added country rock with a little more of a beat to it.”

It’s not uncommon for visitors like singer Mark Chestnut to walk out of the audience to join today’s house band for a song or two. And the boys from Alabama stop by on a regular basis. The Bowery is that kind of place. The music fires up around 8:30 pm and goes steadily until 1:30 am or later – no breaks. And the band plays everything requested by the audience, which means that in a very short period of time a band has learned – on the bandstand – a huge repertoire of music if they want to keep their gig. Regulars have been walking through the front doors for 30 or more years. It’s a one-of-a-kind honky-tonk where you come if you love live music and its particular blend of atmosphere and tap beer.

Just down the main street, the massive SkyWheel revolves to heights 187 feet above the Boardwalk, with views well up and down the Atlantic coastline. It was well worth the ride because things always make more sense when seen from above. For those with acrophobia, there’s a panic button installed in the ceiling of each separate compartment.

Finally, we topped off the day with an evening in the cushy seats at the Alabama Theatre for an evening of live, top-shelf music and comedy. We enjoyed their current show, One, which featured a selection of number one country, Motown, Broadway and R&B hits from the 20th century. The musicianship was excellent, featuring players who have toured with the biggest names in popular music, the singing and dancing were first rate and the comedy had the whole auditorium laughing at themselves and each other.

The next day, on the way out of town and headed down Highway 17 toward Charleston, we took a break at Pawleys Island Hammock Shops – a cluster of 22 household and gift stores best known for the original manufacturing site of the famous Pawleys Island hammock.

Had to take a break to check out the merchandise.

A stretch called Down East

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Tearing ourselves away from the beauty of Ocracoke was no small task. It did, however, involve one of our favourite activities of this coastline trip: a ferry ride.

It’s a two-hour ($15 USD) ferry ride across the waters of the Pamlico Sound to Cedar Island on the mainland of North Carolina. The area is better known to locals as Down East – a collection of 13 different maritime communities holding dear to the traditions of the seafaring life. Their past is a colourful history of whaling, fishing, hunting, quilting and the craft of decoy carving.

It’s the decoys that drew us to the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum & Heritage Center (right next to the ferry that crosses to the uninhabited shores of Cape Lookout National Seashore). Craig tried his hand at chopping away at a piece of juniper (a wood called white cedar in the north) under the tutelage of an amused Walter “Brother” Gaskill, one of the country’s best decoy carvers.

Brother instructed Craig to just chop away anything that “doesn’t look like a duck.” Afterwards Brother pulls out cutting knives and files to try to repair the damage, all the while smiling as he tells us – in a thick Down East brogue – about a local group of carvers who work with the museum to revive the art of carving decoys.

The second level of the museum – a building designed to resemble a cross between a large hunting lodge and a coastal life saving station – is like rummaging through your grandmother’s attic. Displays for each Down East community are filled with duck decoys, handmade quilts, black and white photos and household items.

From the top level there is a viewing platform with a great view of the Cape Lookout lighthouse, the only light station in North Carolina that stays lit night and day.

We found more maritime history (and, of course, more on Blackbeard) in the beautiful village of Beaufort (population: 4,000) at the North Carolina Maritime Museum. The region’s proud history of life saving stations, fishing, boatbuilding and piracy (okay, maybe proud is not the right word on that last one) is explained in detail.

But it was on two wheels that we really discovered the beauty of Beaufort (and it is very beautiful). We pedalled beach bikes from Hungry Town Bike Tours, a local bike tour company run by Betsy and David Cartier, two transplants from the northeast.

David gave us a snapshot of Beaufort: “OPALs. Older people, active lifestyle.”

Think a garden club with 160 active members. Wide, quiet streets that are perfect for biking or walking. Gorgeous homes that range from cottages to mansions. A stone’s throw across the harbour is the Rachel Carson Reserve and the historic Fort Macon, a well-preserved Civil War era fort. There are no chain stores in sight.

David has a theory on this. “Beaufort has stayed isolated, so it’s kept its charm. These houses were built by shipbuilders, so they can withstand the storms. You’ll see a lot of homes with two porches – one up and one down – it’s a West Indian style imported by the sailors.”

Indeed, Beaufort is made for those with a curiosity about history, food and culture and enough zip to pedal around town (easy pedalling along a very flat landscape and very light traffic on the side streets).

And about that “food” part … After pedalling and sightseeing all day we were primed for finding another seafood meal and, as it turns out, we ate dockside at the Front Street Grill at Stillwater, enjoying meals that were among the best of our trip to date.

The amazing Shrimp & Grits were made with stone ground cheese grits (flavoured with heavy cream and a sharp Vermont cheddar), sundried tomatoes, mushrooms, onions and tasso (a gravy made from a base of ham drippings). Craig opted for the same-day catch of yellowfin tuna (cooked rare) in soft wheat tortillas and served with sides of black beans, rice and fried plantains. The restaurant has indoor seating, outdoor seating on the deck (dog-friendly) and a great view of the sunset.

It was a perfect way to end a perfect day!

Ocracoke is a state of mind

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Getting to Ocracoke Island means a ferry crossing. And we not so much arrived at the tiny dock at the north tip as we gently slid in – both as a mode of transportation and a mindset.

It took seconds for us to love Ocracoke. There’s an air of instant relaxation. Sure, there’s just one way to get there (ferries at either end). Sure, the NPS campground has no hook-ups and cold water showers. And you won’t hear us complain about the total absence of anything remotely resembling a chain store. Thank goodness.

So, what do people do once they get there? Well, they walk on the long strands of deserted beach. They fish. They explore the tiny streets of the island’s one village. They visit the lighthouse and look for the spot where the notorious Blackbeard met his end in 1718. They do a little shopping at the one-of-a-kind artisan shops. They talk to the locals. They eat their weight in fresh seafood.

The off-season is the time to come (autumn is when the weather is great – as long as those nuisance hurricanes stay out of the way – and it’s the best time for fishing). Summer can be busy, which is why the village has introduced golf carts as a way of dealing with cars clogging up the historic district’s narrow streets.

The setting is spectacular. The seafood couldn’t be fresher. But, it’s really the people of Ocracoke and the rich sense of community that made our visit shine.

It doesn’t take much to pull a story of the families of Ocracoke from Ocracoke Preservation Museum volunteer historian Al Scarborough. “Ocracoke is a very small community. Everyone’s related. The good news is everyone’s related,” he laughs. “The bad news is everyone knows your business.”

It was never really a fishing village, although people think of it that way. It began as an outpost for pilots, the skilled seamen who piloted schooners through the inlet. The pilots and their families were the lifeblood of Ocracoke.

The island has seen shifts in its economy. When steam engines came along the need for pilots tanked. People moved to subsistence fishing. Refrigeration was invented and the catch could be stored before being shipped to larger ports. As soon as ferries connected the island to the mainland, tourism trickled in, and rocketed once a reverse osmosis plant in the 1960s meant that small hotels and inns could handle a larger number of guests.

Now, don’t get the idea that all of this growth means high rises and the like. Ocracoke has stayed small and the people like it that way. Flip open a phone book and you’ll still find pages of island family names: Gaskill, Gaskin, Braggs and Howard.

Philip Howard traces his family lineage back to the original purchasers of the island in 1759. Philip is a bit of a local authority on the history of the island and he certainly knows “where the bodies are buried.”

Actually, everyone does. Ocracoke (population: 850) has got more than 80 cemeteries and many families buried ‘em in the backyard.

Standing along the narrow, dirt Howard Street (a back laneway in the village’s historic core), Philip was able to point out a slew of final resting places for his relatives. “My grandparents are buried there,” he points. “And my aunt and uncle over there,” pointing the opposite direction down the lane.

It’s still customary to bury one’s dearly departed in the family’s small, fenced backyard cemetery.

It’s cosy and friendly and comfortable and there’s more than enough to fill your time. We’ve got some suggestions of don’t-miss stops:

  • Ocracoke Light Station – the walls are four-foot thick red brick, plastered and whitewashed.
  • Springer’s Point is a lovely walk through a mature maritime forest to a stretch of beach where historians believe Blackbeard was based.
  • Rudy Austin’s Austin Boat Tours shuttles fishermen, campers and daytrippers to deserted Portsmouth Island. Rudy, an Ocracoke native, covers birding, history, Blackbeard lore, fishing and dolphin watching.
  • North Carolina native Rob Temple operates charters and tours on the schooner Windfall II and the historic Skipjack Wilma Lee. Rob is an authority on Blackbeard and knows all the answers to all the questions.
  • Places to eat: The Flying Melon Café serves three meals a day, including local favourites like Shrimp Mash (grilled local shrimp with poached eggs, topped with hollandaise). If you’re cooking yourself, the place to get fresh seafood is at the Ocracoke Seafood Co., a local fish house where young fishermen like Morty Gaskill keep the traditions alive.
  • Overnight stays: You’ll want to stay several days. There are many cottages to rent or you can book hotel suites at Captain’s Landing, right on the dockside with spectacular views of the harbour and the lighthouse. RV and tenters can bed down at the NPS Ocracoke Campground just a few miles north of the village.

Cape Hatteras National Seashore: Where land and sea meet

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It would have been a mistake to look at a map of the stretch of barrier islands to the south, turn around and head back north to the comforts of the Outer Banks’ “larger” communities, like Nags Head, Kitty Hawk and Manteo. As lovely as these villages are – and they are great places to visit – things got really interesting the further we drove south into the heart of Cape Hatteras National Seashore.

First, a little geography: Cape Hatteras National Seashore is a long, pencil-thin stretch of barrier islands (Bodie, Hatteras, Ocracoke) with the dunes of the Atlantic Ocean on one side and the water of Pamlico Sound on the other. It’s largely land under the watch of the National Park Service, so gets a high level of environmental protection. There are several historic villages scattered along the way (not part of the NPS land) with large beachfront homes and all the amenities of a smaller town.

We’ve already written about the shifting sand and the close watch residents keep through hurricane season (June - November) but the real highlight is what’s not along long stretches of this pristine coast. The NPS has preserved wetlands for migratory birds (hike along a boardwalk at Pea island National Wildlife Refuge), historic lighthouses and miles of remote sand beach.

In the water, dolphins played. On the shoreline, a few fishermen planted their long rods to cast from the surf and the occasional walker doffed footwear and strolled barefoot along the sand. No shops. No go-carts or mini-golf. Not even a single vending machine. In the NPS campgrounds? No electrical hook-ups and cold water showers. Ink-black skies at night. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea but it sure is ours.

The Outer Banks are infamous as the Graveyard of the Atlantic – a testament to the dangerous shoals that claimed many a passing ship (the estimate is the waters off the banks holds more than 600 shipwrecks dating back centuries).

Craig took the ranger-guided hike up the black and white striped Bodie Island Light Station. The view from the top was great over the long dunes and the salt marshes that are a perfect stopover point for birds migrating north-south along the Atlantic Flyway. Bodie Island Lighthouse was built in 1871, is 214 steps and on a clear day you can see 30 km (18 mi) from the top. Its flash pattern is 2.5 on, 2.5 off, 2.5 on, 22.5 off (just in case you were wondering) and it still uses an original Fresnel lens. The grounds of the lighthouse are dog friendly (but not a climb to the top).

A little further down the road we stopped at the candy-cane striped lighthouse that most people associate with the Outer Banks: Cape Hatteras Light Station. The National Historic Landmark is the continent’s tallest brick lighthouse (a climb up Hatteras is 248 steps, equivalent to a 12-storey building). The grounds of the lighthouse are dog friendly (but not a climb to the top).

The iconic lighthouse also made it to many a newspaper front page in 1999 when the National Park Service moved the entire brick structure 460 m (1,500 ft) back from an encroaching sea. The sands continue to shift but they say the move should keep the tall building safe for a good long time.

In Hatteras Village we ate dinner overlooking a dock filled with fishing boats and had a seafood meal that set the bar high for the remainder of our trip. The chef at the Breakwater Restaurant buys local: shrimp, scallops, grouper, flounder, tuna and it shows in the taste on the plate. We ate our fill of steamed shrimp the size of a toddler’s fist that were flavour-packed, meaty and didn’t suffer a bit from being dipped in melted butter. On a quest to embrace grits, Jo ate a delicious main of Shrimp & Grits (and yes, it did the trick – now a convert) and Craig had spicy, blackened chunks of yellowfin tuna (the catch of the day) wrapped in soft wheat tortillas and served with sides of black beans, rice and a pineapple chutney. Dessert was one slice/two forks of Peanut Butter Pie – a rich and creamy PB centre topped with dark, chocolate ganache.

Like we said, the bar is set high.