Sleepless in Savannah
A fun trip where I took absolutely none of my own advice, and paid the price.
A dear friend of mine is getting married and as is customary we celebrated her impending nuptials with a long weekend in Savannah, Georgia. Destination bachelor and bachelorette parties (or stag and hen dos, if you’re across the Pond) are on the rise. According to a 2019 study conducted by WeddingWire.com, most (92%) bachelor and bachelorette parties happen within the continental US, but 8% do happen internationally. The concept of ‘destination’ parties is expanding to include any event not located in the bride or groom’s home radius. So our bachelorette party extended that statistic by eight ladies.
This was my first trip to Savannah so I didn’t know what to expect from the local culture, but I absolutely knew it would be hot and humid. I can tolerate a 100º day in Las Vegas with no problem, that’s a dry heat. But Southern heat is a whole other ball game. I would be gone for 3 nights so I had no problem taking a carry-on, but after packing the required swimsuits, matching black dresses for going out, matching pastel dresses for brunch, shoes to match each, plus toiletries: I was out of space. I was so frazzled that I broke my own rules and recommendation for travel essentials, and sleep-deprived hilarity ensued. I forgot to pack earplugs, a sound machine, my own top sheet, travel pillow, and pillowcase. Of course when I arrived at the AirBNB I plunked my bag on the assigned twin bed and immediately regretted my entire life.
The sheets were terribly scratchy, the pillow was thin as an empty flour sack, and because we were staying in a historic home (read: shack with charm and thin walls) you could hear every creak, sneeze, and car horn in the state. The AirBNB curiously featured no solid doors in the interior, only hollow-core, vented doors. This made both sleeping and using the bathroom in relative peace very difficult for everyone. The majority of us spent the weekend trying to convince everyone else we photosynthesize and therefore have no need for a large intestine with which to move solid waste.
Sound machines are great for more than just sleeping. They provide some requisite noise when seeking a modicum of privacy. Item #1 I realized I needed and didn’t have: a tiny sound machine. The first night of the party we were all pretty bushed from work and travel, so we turned in early. That’s when the terror sunk in. I shared a room with two other girls, so I was desperately trying to make as little noise as possible. Just breathing felt disruptive, let along rolling over or taking a trip to the bathroom. My bed was an old twin trundle that felt like it was original to the home built in 1910. And it sounded like it, too. The slightest move yielded a squeak like the Tin Man pre-oil in the Wizard of Oz. All I could think of as I lay straight as a board was how scratchy my sheets were and how thin my pillow was. I cursed myself for not checking a free bag and using a little more space for the same items I tell everyone else are essential for quality sleep on the road.
I finally fell asleep around 2:00 AM and woke up at 6:00 AM because someone in the neighborhood had an actual rooster with impeccable timing. I knew there was no way I’d fall asleep again, so I crept out of the house in search of a CVS for earplugs and sunscreen. Having never been to Savannah, I didn’t realize our AirBNB was on the outskirts of the historic downtown, so I was treated to a really lovely walk as I ventured closer to the city center. You’ve likely heard this time and time again, but sometimes the best way to see a city really is by using your own two feet.
With earplugs and espresso secured, I hurried back to the house for breakfast and official ‘party time’. I’ll spare you the details in between, but suffice it to say I can’t wait to head back to Savannah with my husband and really immerse myself in the city. I felt like we only skimmed the surface of what the Hostess City of the South as to offer. The food we had downtown was exquisite, locals were lovely, and I found the only place you can buy Girl Scout Cookies year round. But never again will I sacrifice space for sleep essentials in favor of shoes and curling irons.