My family and I arrived home from vacation late on Friday night and I’ve recovered enough to actually accomplish something. The drive to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina—about 630 miles, one way—turned out to be more interesting than planned: the transmission on the minivan decided that second gear was a good place to stop shifting, whether or not higher gears were preferred. It turned out to be a relatively inexpensive fix, but added several hours to the already 12-hour trip.
The weather cooperated for most of the week that we were there, with the exception that the temperature was nearly 100 degrees the whole time; air conditioning and sunscreen were my very close companions during the sunniest, hottest, humidest (or most humid for the sticklers) times of day. A word of advice: golf isn’t much fun when the sun wants you to die.
We ate dinner at Planet Hollywood on the day we went to Broadway at the Beach—it’s like a very large outdoor mall—and were served by a very sarcastic/odd waiter. I could never tell if he was joking or being serious or just rude. At Crocodile Rock’s Dueling Pianos bar, I had a drink with my parents (a first); later in the evening we watched a fireworks display from a bridge over the lake.
The next day, we went to the Waccatee Zoo, an usual hybrid of modern animal preserve, petting zoo, and old-fashioned caged animals zoo. Parts of the Waccatee Zoo, like the alligator or deer enclosures seemed well-planned, but other areas like the tiger, lion, and baboon cages seemed inhumane for 2005 and more like relics from 1955.
We went to the beach for the second time during the week on Thursday (our last full day there) and Jason and I had a great time riding the waves on our boogie boards. What’s surprising about the ocean in Myrtle Beach is how warm the water feels; unlike Cape May or Ocean City, the water is probably in the mid-80s. It was a nice cap to what was a really fun week.
Update: I forgot to mention—and failed to photograph—a tie-dyed billboard along SC 17 in Surfside that featured a huge Jesus with his arms open and his head rising above the top edge of the billboard. The text on the sign read: “Who’s your Daddy? I am that I am.” It was the best highway sign ever and I didn’t take a picture of it.