Ode to Folly Beach, my dearest destination I never knew I was looking for...your beaches are silken, your breezes are swift, your streets are slow and meandering. Your vibe is equal parts Dogtown and Zboy and the sleepy town of Amity we all know so well from the movie Jaws. Locals and yearly summer occupants can be spotted mixing cordially with the few tourists that find their way here for a week or so. Everyone is smiling and tan and they all look like they taught Swayze his moves for Point Break. Golden tressed surfer boys serve me my iced mocha at the coffeehouse. Even the girl at the Piggly Wiggly looks like she regularly wrangles a board in the surf. The gift shops on the short dense tourist strip are cheap and the shop owners are old and talkative and full of Folly pride. There is no Starbucks, no TJMaxx, no Hard Rock Cafe. I instantly like it here.
My accommodations I've arranged for the next few days are less than promised in quality, but more than I expected in quantity and proximity to the ocean. Everything in my little one bedroom bungalow is chipped and tattered in much the same way as the town itself. Like everyone went on break in the middle of their renovation projects and forgot to come back. Maybe they all went surfing? Anyway, this gives a quaintness that I'm sure most would call "charming", so all is forgiven. I don't have to drive for a while and I can leave WonderPoe "home" while I stalk the beaches.
Sounds wonderful!
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