If – being British – you get into a car in Washington DC and take great care to drive on the right hand side of the freeway for about eight hours, down through Virginia, by the time you reach South Carolina the appeal of those great green forests and quaint all-American billboards will have lost its shine and you will be praying for something, anything, to break the monotony.
And all of a sudden the road obliges, and the trees part, and there is a great glistening expanse of water.
Did I say Charming? I meant, of course, Charleston, South Carolina. An ancient town, an America’s beginning, and as different from that great white city you have just left as it is possible to be.
We did just such a drive. And our gratefulness at the air conditioning of the hotel when we arrived was unbounded. We arrived, we showered, we rejoiced…