The hiking and biking and dining in Charleston has already become a blur. Dining on ribs at Sticky Fingers is one clear memory. Getting back to the boat too tired to do up the town on a Saturday night is another. At least going to bed at eight lets us get an early start. A boater friend and I met at 7:30 to walk every cobblestone and brick street in Charleston. Sunday morning walks in a new city are the best. We handed newspapers through cast iron gates to the landed gentry, met puppies and their owners, found alley walkways, got desparate for coffee and treats before we finally got back to the marina restaurant. We left husbands on board to do boat work, they seemed happy not to be trudging around with us. Lee got the stove installed with only a few setbacks, like to gas line coming in on the opposite side. He was very motivated to get the on-board bakery up and running.
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