I mentioned that I really enjoyed the change of pace the Zeigler House B&B in Savannah offered - the ability to have breakfast in bed instead of going down to the dining room - but I want to make sure you understand that the comment wasn't a knock on the traditional style of a hot house breakfast - not in the least.

The idea of having an in-room breakfast is great for romantic getaways, as you can have your cake and eat it too: The character of a B&B without the pressure to be present for breakfast. Most innkeepers who offer a house meal are understanding, however I hate to even give the impression that I'm being rude, considering they've most likely been prepping in the kitchen since the early morning. You might want to stay in bed with your significant other all morning, yet etiquette would suggest getting your tail downstairs on time.

It's a concept that really hit home for me on this trip, definitely something to think about when planning your stay. I was excited about this new discovery after leaving the Zeigler House, thinking I had stumbled upon some sort of secret. The second stop on my swing was the more traditional Azalea Inn and Gardens, and it, of course, quickly revealed the other side of the coin, one of the other huge draws of small inns: Personality.

While you typically meet the innkeeper upon check in, breakfast is where the personal touch and connections go down. Breakfast in bed has its perks, but they don't have anything to do with anyone else (which some may prefer). To really get a feel for the vibe of an inn, you have to mingle with both the host and the other guests. Think of it as a crossroads, groups of travelers gathering around a single table to share their adventures.

Azalea Innkeeper Teresa Jacobson is a firecracker - very open and honest and down to earth in her personality. It's one of the things B&Bs boast that most larger hotels have to sacrifice - that one-on-one non-corporate interaction. It's nice to have that give and take with someone who is not only your host, but a real live local (as compared to only a smile from a shirt and tie behind a counter who may or may not give a hoot about their job).

It's not just me pumping up Teresa and her inn - many others have taken notice as well. The announcement was made today that Azalea was voted the #3 bed and breakfast in Savannah, according to the Readers' Choice Awards (there are 38 inns total in Savannah). A few months ago, Azalea was recognized as a "distinguished inn" and accepted into Select Registry - a collection of nearly 400 of the "finest country inns, B&Bs, and unique small hotels."

Teresa and I talked about the perception that young people (the millennials) have of bed and breakfasts, specifically that they might view them as accommodations for retirees. I get it, and I've experienced it: I'm always the youngest guest.

But we can change it - I don't see any reason why young professionals shouldn't be enticed by the idea of a unique room in an environment that's always changing. No two rooms are identical, and the vibe depends largely on your fellow house guests.

Look at hostels - young people like hostels - but is it only about price? Don't we love that social interaction? Feel free to write me or leave comments with your thoughts.

Since Teresa and I settled on the fact that price probably plays a large part, we have teamed up to offer a few gift certificates for the Azalea Inn and Gardens - a little motivation to get down to Savannah this spring.

I'll be serving them up via Facebook through a variety of contests over the next few weeks -be sure to like us and follow along.

Photos of the Azalea Inn and Gardens:

The Captain came over the PA and said, “Where going to my favorite place on the planet. “San Francisco.” With a grin and a little déjà-vu my spirit lightened. The city by the bay shines, even on the foggiest of days.  Get ready to be luxuriously spoiled.

Let’s hitch a ride on a cable car at the bottom of California Street. We’ll ascend to the hallmark of the San Francisco luxury at the Ritz-Carlton San Francisco. Read the full story.

I'll be honest: The Forbidden Journey ride at the Harry Potter exhibit inside Universal's Islands of Adventure had me swallowing spit afterward.

Turns out, riding a broomstick isn't as much fun as I thought.

I walked through the recreation of Hogwarts, taking deep breaths through my nose and pushing my tongue into my bottom teeth, wondering when my glands would stop filling my mouth. We all know that feeling - whether it's one too many shots of tequila or a bout of carsickness - and I had to concentrate awfully hard to avoid disaster (you never want to have to stick your head into a trash can at an amusement park).

Long story short, I survived without incident, but I was definitely rattled a bit. Although I'm typically pretty good with motion, the combination of sudden side-to-side jerks, limited forward vision, and fast-paced animation seemed to be my kyrptonite that day.

No worries - we all have bad days - and fans of Harry Potter will enjoy the recreation of Hogwarts and pretending to participate in a game of Quidditch. Next time, I'll skip the ride and stick to butterbeer.

Earlier in the day we rode Hulk, Spiderman, and three different water rides: Jurassic Park, Ripsaw Falls, andthe white-water rapids (on which everyone got completely soaked, see photo to the left).

My friends (who are residents) taught me a helpful trick when it comes to reducing the time you spend standing around in line: Take advantage of the "solo rider" line.

You go to the park as a group, but similar to seeing a movie, the attraction itself is an individual experience. You chat it up and share your thoughts when it's done, but does it really matter who is sitting next to you as it's happening? I'm not talking about saving five minutes - going solo saved us twenty minutes on the Hulk and about thirty on Spiderman and Harry Potter. Just something to consider as that's significant time, and fast passes are not free at Universal Studios/Islands of Adventure (but they are at Disney... info to come).

It began to rain as we made the walk over to Universal Studios (Islands of Adventure is separate), and unfortunately we were only able to spend an hour at the park. However, I have a few things to report:

The infamous Jaws attraction was closed in January, ending it's two-decade run. My guess is that most kids today have no idea about the classic thriller - and their parents aren't about to introduce them to the summertime anxiety we all went through.

Had I more time I would have definitely auditioned for the live Fear Factor show, a competition right there on site. You can audition seventy minutes prior for a chance to play with some creepy crawlers.

As Epcot does with the countries (story to come), Universal breaks down into different sections of the United States: Hollywood, San Francisco, and New York.

Pay attention as you walk through the park. Some of the people who approach you will offer a chance to sit in on a live taping (one such opportunity was even paid).

Who among us can say they've been paid to watch a television show?

Photos:

From the look of the photos, you would think we didn't catch a single shrimp that day on the Lady Jane off the coast of Georgia.

The crew pulled on the ropes, swinging the doors of the net together and hoisting it above the stern of the boat, allowing the water to drip before yanking on the line and releasing the catch onto the deck. I expected a light load of shrimp (the season ended in February but typically ends Dec. 31st), however I had no idea the other animals would end up being such a large part of the experience. I held a shark, puffer fish, stingray, horseshoe crab, flounder - the list goes on (see photos).

Last time I was in Georgia on Eagle Island,I learned how to kill and clean crabs for a seafood boil. This trip, as we sorted the catch and pushed the shrimp into the corner, the guide taught me how to dehead them with one hand. It's like handling a tube of near-empty toothpaste: You run your hand up from the bottom until you build up the proper pressure, and with a quick squeeze the head pops off.

If that's not appetizing, how about this: Georgia shrimp are significantly sweeter than any other I've tasted - it's truly noticeable. The crew boiled them right there on board, and after the first few I realized there was no need for the cocktail sauce (especially considering they were in the water ten minutes prior... it sort of redefined the idea of something being "fresh").

There was a part of me that felt sad about the entire process, for the small fish that would never recover from the fight against the net. The industry has made several strides over the years to reduce the collateral damage - they've redesigned the nets to allow small fish and sea turtles to escape. Still, you hate to see any sort of unnecessary life loss.

Although it may not be natural selection, I was happy that nothing went to waste. There were so many birds surrounding the nets and circling the boat, swooping down to feast on whatever was discarded overboard. There's a sadness in the beauty that's tough to stomach - the circle of life - but I think it's good to be reminded of such realities from time to time, to understand that our survival comes at another's cost.

That all said, it was nice to see the joy on the faces of the crew during the whole process. The traditional shrimping industry is all but nonexistent these days due to the emergence of seafood farms, and I think it made them happy to see us enjoying the quickly diminishing pastime. The numbers are stunning: In the 1970s, there were approximately 400 registered shrimping boats in Georgia. Last year, there were 60.

I haven't been able to firmly confirm those exact figures, but you get the idea. One crew member I talked to, Cliff, told me he remembers shrimping with his father when he was little. Today, there are no footsteps to be followed - it's as if they have all been washed away by the Georgia surf. The harvesting and farming of shrimp has driven the market price way down, and local fishermen simply cannot compete.

Which is why the experience was so special for me. You have to figure it will only get worse - where will we be in another ten years? Standing on the deck that day, I felt like I was a part of a past generation, like I was enjoying an art that will be lost with the ones to come.

The Lady Jane shoves off out of Brunswick (on the mainland, 10/15 minutes from the King and Prince on St. Simons), and it's the only game in town (and on the east coast) as far as shrimping tours go. Make room for this excursion the next time you find yourself in the area, whether you're driving down the coast or staying on St. Simons.

Photos (courtesy of Tom Ski):

I mentioned in a previous post that I was significantly full – that writing about the food was something I wanted to wait on – yet now I’m realizing that moment may never come so long as I’m still on the island (St. Simons). There are so many incredible food choices here, from seafood boils to barbecue, and my mind and body are engaged in a constant war – the latter at times feeling unable to stomach the opportunity.

I had helped prepare the shrimp and grits welcome dinner and feasted on the other bounties of the sea the next day at lunch, and that night I was to eat at Southern Soul BBQ – nationally recognized and often featured in the media (Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, for example).

I’ve always found that the solution to a food-related self-imposed guilt trip is exercise, and after we returned from golfing with gators we walked up the street from the King and Prince to Ocean Motion Surf Company to rent some bikes.

St. Simons has over twenty miles of biking trails and limited traffic on most streets, making it a great place to hop on a beach cruiser and explore. The best part for me was riding underneath the oak trees that often canopy the quiet streets, looking up and seeing the Spanish moss draped over the branches. I took it easy at times and picked up the pace at others. The goal was to relax and enjoy the peacefulness of St. Simons, however I also wanted to earn my dinner that night.

Mentally and physically recharged, we made the five-minute drive to Southern Soul from the King and Prince, and as we approached I could see the wood stacked next to the smoker out in front of the restaurant, the people sitting at picnic tables under the large overhang (the building was once an old gas station).

Southern Soul cooks over locally gathered seasoned (aged) oak, nothing else. I really like that sort of approach - it adds a truly unique aspect to the cooking process (not to mention the taste). I ordered the Southern Sampler: Ribs, pulled pork, stew, and collared greens ($15). I threw in a local brew, the Georgia SweetWater 420, and I grabbed a spot outside at one of the tables.  There's a bar and a few tables inside, but I'm not sure why you wouldn't want to post up outside where you can see and smell the smoke. It was turning to twilight and the stars were coming out, and it was a very warm evening with a nice breeze that fluttered the napkins.

When they brought the food out I immediately noticed that they don't drown you with sauce - they actually don't put on any at all (you add it yourself at the table). I think this is one of the signs of good barbecue, a focus on the flavors of the meat rather than a spotlight on the sauce.

An even better sign is when you taste it and it doesn't need any. I sampled some of both the sweet and the spicy, but I never felt like I needed to glob it on. As you have probably experienced, that is not always the case, and you have to appreciate it when you find yourself at a place legitimate enough to understand this concept.

Looking at the photo still makes my mouth water. I said this at the table and I have to add it here: That stew might have been the best I've ever had in my life. Light and tomato based with chunks of pork, it was a perfect complement to the stacks of meat (it is a must try when you visit).

Overall: An amazing backyard feel stationed on the side of the road on a kicked-back island. I'm really not sure how someone could drive by and not do a double-take, not pull an immediate U-turn given the character it displays.

I would highly recommend getting that exercise in beforehand. The portions are large, and you will definitely charge through all of it.

Photos:

I was in the cab on the way to the bus station and my driver told me that he used to live in Houston, but a friend set him up with the fare to go to Washington to find better work. On the way it stopped for a night in Santa Barbara, and after a walk on the beach and a look at the mountains, he decided he didn’t want to leave and never got back on the bus the next morning. That was 22 years ago. 

It's a prime example of the Santa Barbara experience – how the place can infect you very quickly. It happened to me in 2009: I went out for a visit, then promptly went home and collected my belongings. 

Here are a few photos from my most recent stay in town:

Leadbetter Beach

 

Leadbetter Beach

 

Harbor View

 

Leadbetter Walking Path

 

Cabrillio Blvd. Downtown SB

 

Mountain View