Thursday, October 1, 2015

Art on the Beach to Benefit Charleston Pro Bono Services

Poster Image by John M. Hoffman
            For sixteen years the popular fundraiser Art on the Beach & Chefs in the Kitchen has drawn hundreds of visitors to Sullivan’s Island for an afternoon house tour replete with over twenty-five artists selling their creations, live music and tasty treats from chefs and food purveyors.  On Sunday, Nov. 8 several architecturally significant houses, artists’ studios and an historic battery will be part of the tour benefiting Charleston Pro Bono Services which provides free legal aid to over 800 people in our community each year.  With so many situations requiring a lawyer, Charleston Pro Bono Services ensures that the doors of justice are open to all, regardless of income.  They match low income clients with attorneys to help solve problems ranging from custody to contractual issues to paternity. 
            Typical of their cases is “David” who, when he approached the agency, was living in a camper after losing his job due to years of severe bad health.  The Social Security Administration had already denied his claim twice but with the help of a volunteer attorney from Charleston Pro Bono, David received a favorable decision that provided a monthly income.  Another client, “Mr. Morris”, came seeking visitation of his son.  Since he was not married to the mother of the child, SC law had awarded the mother full custody.  With the help of a volunteer attorney, Mr.  Morris is now able to visit his son weekly.  Volunteer lawyers also helped “Ms. Betty” who was being harassed by a usurious loan company who had taken advantage of her poor mental health.  With the help she received, the loans were resolved.  Another client, Mrs. Guerrero needed a spelling error on her son’s birth certificate corrected.  The error had created an avalanche of problems with school enrollment and obtaining a passport.  After the resolution she said, “When the lawyers from this office helped us to correct the birth certificate then I was able to get a passport and everything was resolved. So I’m very grateful to the attorneys who helped us so much.”  What may be a routine case for the volunteer lawyers is often critically important to the hundreds of clients who seek aid each year since the complexities of the legal system can often be confusing and frustrating.
      Over thirty artists are scheduled to be on site during the tour to talk to patrons about and sell their creations ranging from wearable art to paintings.  Many artists come every year including jewelry maker Marion Berry who said after last year, “Totally enjoyed being an artist at this event. Had a great time meeting everyone that came by and shopped with me.” The celebrated poster artist this year is John Michael Hoffman whose impressionistic paintings are full of vigor, vitality and texture. He will be meeting people at Sandpiper Gallery that day.
The VIP party bus will be a
 lively addition. 
            During the event, patrons can drive or bicycle around Sullivan’s Island using a map provided with their tickets.  A new option this year offers a VIP ticket with party bus transportation.   Tickets for Art on the Beach and Chefs in the Kitchen are $40 in advance, $45 the day of the tour or VIP tickets for $100 which includes lively, comfortable transportation with libations and commemorative gifts. Tickets may be purchased on line at, at Sandpiper Gallery on Sullivan’s Island or at the ticket booth at Battery Gadsden (1917 I’On) on Nov. 8 starting at noon.  Sponsors include Jerry and Cheryl Kaynard, Blalock  Family and Urgent Care, RPWB law firm, Lucky Dog Publications, Lowcountry Sun Publications, Herlong and Associates, Pratt-Thomas Walker and area restaurants  and food purveyors including the Old Village Post House, The Granary, Bull’s Bay Saltworks,  Palmetto Brewery, Lowcountry Olive Oil and the Americano.

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

The Riches of Cherokee, North Carolina

      In 1813, the brave Cherokee leader Junaluska became a hero. He regretted it forever. Over a hundred Native Americans were recruited by him to join Andrew Jackson’s fight against the Creek Indians. Junaluska swam across the Tallapoosa River, took the Creek’s canoes and helped win the battle. Then he made the fateful move that sealed his people’s future. He saved Andrew Jackson’s life. “If I had known that Jackson would drive us from our homes, I would have killed him that day…” he later said. By then he’d survived the Trail of Tears, a 2,200 forced march from North Carolina to Oklahoma and two escapes that finally ended when he walked all the way home. His lineage continues near Cherokee, N.C. where many geographic places bear his name.   
       Faye Junaluska perpetuates the Cherokee culture through her work as a weaver, teacher. Surrounded by beautiful displays at the Qualla Arts and Crafts Mutual in Cherokee, NC she told me the story of her childhood. She and her siblings learned the Cherokee craft of basket weaving from their mother Emma Taylor. “You have to go into the woods, find your tree,” she explained. “It must be a white oak ten to twelve years old. You have to take the whole tree down, split the trunk, quarter it into sections, split it into strips, scrape it and dye it using the leaves, roots and bark of walnut or butternut trees and digging the bloodroot and yellow root plants”. It’s hard, frustrating work. “Making baskets with grandma, I threw many across the floor,” she remembered. Now her blistered, calloused hands work competently. The shelves of the art center contain a multitude of authentic, museum-quality creations that provide an antidote to the world of anonymous, disposable souvenirs.
      At the Cherokee Museum nearby, I was greeted by the striking appearance of Jerry Wolfe.His long grey braid, cowboy hat, weathered face and beaded bolo necktie attracted me.  In 2013 he was named the Cherokee nation’s “Most Beloved Man”. It was the first time since 1801 that the title had been bestowed. He was recognized by museum archivist Bo Taylor who said, “Jerry embodies everything a beloved man should embody. He’s a veteran, a warrior. Being a veteran carries a lot of weight in our culture. He’s a man who gets out and does - and he does for others. He’s selfless.”  “You might call me an active man,” Jerry demurred. I followed him to the museum’s centerpiece, a life-size statue of a young, muscular warrior in ceremonial dress wearing an antlered helmet and loincloth and holding aloft a burning ember. “That’s me,” Jerry said. His body was cast by the artist decades ago. He stood beside his younger version for a photo, a telescope of history. Interactive displays tell the story of the Cherokees from 12,000 years ago to the present by combining computer-generated imagery, special effects, and audio with an extensive artifact collection. It’s done so well that Van Romans of Walt Disney Imagineering said “The Museum of the Cherokee Indian is revolutionary in its ability to tell stories and should be a model to other museums that are struggling to engage their audience in their message.”

       I spent the night at the incongruous Harrah’s Cherokee Casino Resort where Ahinawake Littledave showed me around the massive 21-story building.  “There are many things to do here,” she said pointing out a state- of-the-art 3,000 seat performance hall being set up for Jay Leno, the miles of gaming tables, clanging slot machines, sedate poker rooms, various table games and  ten on-site food and restaurant choices.  As a full service resort, the property features a spa, shops, live entertainment and swimming pools. Ms. Littledave
touted the various ways that the resort helps the community by using it as a training ground for tribal members aspiring to become managers and the twice yearly profit sharing checks that all Cherokees receive as well as scholarship, educational and health funds.  An extensive collection of Cherokee art adorns the building.  A rooftop garden spills into 7 waterfalls representing the 7 clans.  Since the casino opened in 1997, “It’s a different way of life,” she noted.  The occupancy rate runs about 95%, drawing people from all over the Southeast hoping to win big jackpots like the $200,000 winner Ms. Littledave saw or to qualify for the World Poker Tour.
       Whether you win jackpots or not, the enrichment from stopping here is invaluable. Despite the tragic and moving history, Cherokee wisdom and humor seem to endure as in this adage: “When the white man discovered this country, Indians were running it. No taxes, no debt, women did all the work. White man thought he could improve on a system like this.” Cherokee, North Carolina has lots of stories to tell.

If You Go:

Museum of the Cherokee Indian:

Qualla Arts and Crafts Mutual:

Harrah’s Cherokee Casino Resort:

Originally published in The Island EyeThe Island ConnectionLowcountry Senior Sun, and the Lowcountry Sun.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Big City Buzz in Charlotte


 In 1941, sick and confined to bed, unable to stand at an easel and paint, it seemed Henri Matisse’s artistic life was over. Critics had labeled him the “wild beast” for his startlingly bold colors.  Now he was a broken man.  But Matisse was not bowed.  He began each day with poetry which he compared to oxygen, “just as when you leap out of bed you fill your lungs with fresh air.” From his bed he began “painting with scissors”, cutting out huge color-saturated shapes and arranging them with the help of his assistants and grandchildren until they filled his room. “You see, as I am obliged to remain often in bed…I have made a little garden all around me where I can walk… There are leaves, fruits, a bird.”  He continued to create for 13 more years, pushing his art further than ever.  He called it his “grace period”. He even attached a piece of chalk to a long pole and drew the faces of his grandchildren on the ceiling so he could look up at them while he went to sleep.  “I am deeply contented, happy,” he said.
           Christopher Lawing, Vice President for Programming and Research for the Bechtler Museum of Modern Art, enthusiastically recounted this inspiring story as we toured the light-filled galleries where 80 framed prints of these collages are on display through Sept. 7 as part of the exhibition The Art Books of Henri Matisse.  Jazz is the most famous with its imagery drawn from the circus and music halls.  It’s considered one of the greatest illustrated books of the 20th century. Christopher pointed out Matisse’s masterful use of positive and negative space, how he “riffed on philodendron” and his preoccupation with color and light that fueled his intense joie de vivre.  (A two minute narrated video of the exhibit is here.)  Mario Botta, the museum’s architect also “curated light” in the diminutive building where soaring windows frame skyscrapers. Christopher explained that critics responded with shock, amazement and occasional laughter to Matisse’s work, but “we need artists to shock and awe to move us forward.”  We speculated together on which contemporary artists were moving us forward now.   I left inspired, full of new ideas.

           Charlotte is a big city full of the vitality and creative energy, where history combines with modernity.  The Dunhill Hotel is a stellar example.  Built in 1929, the ten-story hotel has been fully restored.  The independent hotel is an Historic Inn of America.  Its refined architecture with neo-classical embellishments adds character to Charlotte’s modern big-city shape. But it is decidedly a 21st century luxury hotel with all the modern conveniences in its 60 well-appointed guest rooms.  As downtown Charlotte pulses and hums around it, the Dunhill is a quiet, elegant oasis right in its center.  We parked our car upon arrival and never needed it again.  Within walking distance are many attractions:  the Mint Museum, the McColl Center for Art, Discovery Place, the Blumenthal Performing Arts center, the Bank of America Stadium, the Time Warner Arena, Spirit Square, the Levine Museum and others. The Dunhill offers a package with the Bechtler with discounts and amenities. 
The exhibit was a perfect introduction to
  In 2014 the hotel challenged Chris Coleman to come aboard and create a fresh, new Southern concept that would put its restaurant The Asbury on the A list for discerning culinary travelers.  A devout locavore, Chris sources from about 40 local farmers, fishermen and food artisans. His inspirations are the bounty of the region, his grandmother and his sense of humor.  “I like to mix it up a little.” He tops deviled eggs with cheeky fried cornichon,  He decorates plates with colorful nasturtiums and serves a cast iron skillet of Maw Maw’s biscuits with sass-worthy Bacon-Onion. “When the world seems crazy and nothing much seems to make sense anymore, turn to Bacon Jam.  It makes comfort foods comfortable…Watch your cares magically melt away.” 
  Creative sparks were also flying up the street at 5 Church where the hostess Mercury Arteaga explained, “I love this restaurant; It’s more of a museum.”  The entire book Art of War was inscribed on the ceiling!  Sea-creature-inspired light fixtures, undulating sculptures and ironic murals gave the space a funky, lively vibe as a young crowd toasted brunch with mimosas and ate sunny-side egg pizzas.  Word on the street is that this restaurant is opening on Market Street in Charleston. Outside the windows teams of crazily speeding bicyclists were racing a course through cordoned off streets.  The big city buzz was electrifying.
            I’ll return to Charlotte again, perhaps for a girlfriends’ get-away, NASCAR, a Panthers or Hornets game, concerts or culture.  A few days in a big city of skyscrapers and vitality is like a Red Bull for the mind and Charlotte is only 3 ½ hours away. In a cab after a long night out that included Margaret Cho at the Comedy Zone followed by late night blues at the Double Door, we were happily satiated by our big-city experience. 
If You Go:
The Dunhill Hotel:
The Bechtler Museum of Modern
5 Church Restaurant:

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Unforgettable Festival Moments


             If all the Spoleto and Piccolo Spoleto Festivals did was provide us with entertaining ephemeral moments it would be enough.  Moments of joy, harmony, insight or beauty:  enough.  Strengthen our economy with tourist dollars:  enough.  Fill our streets with more colorful and artistic visitors hauling musical instruments, painting in the parks, leaping onto stages:  enough. It would be enough to spend an evening out, see a great show, enjoy ourselves and go home to soon forget it all.  Many of life’s best moments are this fleeting.  But sometimes there’s more.  Sometimes the festivals rock our world. 
             It could be the timing.  In 1993 Lynn Riding was finding her foothold in Charleston after emigrating from England.  On a balmy Charleston evening walking with new friends towards Marion Square she began hearing the Drifter’s tune “Under the Boardwalk”.  As they got closer she choked up.  The songs she had danced to as a teenager were playing in her new hometown. “I couldn’t believe it.   It was a moment of pure happiness with new friends that said to me “everything is working out.”
            It could be a glimpse at art’s cutting edge.  In 1988 my children and I emerged from a piano lesson at the College of Charleston and noticed a cherry picker looming in the Cistern.  It had been transformed into a giant ant puppet.  Of course we had to go watch this rehearsal for “Warrior Ant”.  What a spectacle! Music critic Daniel Webster described the show as “An ant becomes a god, and all kinds of mock obeisances are performed. Singers improvise, drummers frisk and …the stage becomes a town in the rain forest.” There were actors perched in the Cistern’s trees and a Caribbean procession that led the entire audience to dance in the streets. 

            In 2012 when Theater Company 1927 performed “The Animals and Children Took to the Streets”, it was a revelation for Lila Trussler.  “It was an entirely different art form than I had ever seen.  There were so many different things going on at once.  It seemed brand new.”  It was dark, edgy, innovative, creepy and unique.  Anne Birdseye was captivated by the 2008 “Monkey:  Journey to the West” that combined a circus of cartoons, acrobats, Chinese music and a tribe of monkeys flying among bamboo poles. Not the kinds of thing you can see every weekend in Charleston but exactly what the festivals bring to our doorstep.   “It was very engaging.  I like things that are so different, that you wouldn’t otherwise be able to see,” said Anne.  Long time Charleston improv impresario Greg Tavares said, "I have so many memories from Piccolo over the years. The one that sticks with me is the first time I saw The Cody Rivers Show at Piccolo Fringe.  They are a two person sketch/physical comedy duo we have had come a couple times.  Their work changes how I saw comedy and what I thought was possible." 
      Then there’s the star power.  Like many  Charleston women, I’ve delighted in extemporaneous hugs from Charles Wadsworth.  I became embarrassingly tongue-tied upon being introduced to Jean Yves Thibaudet.  I once mustered my courage to approach Gian Carlo Menotti in a parking garage, tell him he was my hero and that I’d studied his opera “Amahl” in grade school.  Barry Goldsmith who was the director of arts instruction for Charleston County Schools for many years said, “For me, the most exciting part of Spoleto was, because of my position with the school district, getting to know Gian Carlo Menotti….I admired him and could not have imagined I would one day work with him to develop programs for students.”
              Twenty years ago Corday Rice was playing the recorder and became transfixed by a Renaissance opera record she nearly wore out until she learned to play the motifs.  She and her mother Beth went to that opera and then to many more in a yearly mother-daughter tradition that they cherish. Our son Philip and his friend Derek Cribb still talk about the Latin band Bio Ritmo they saw twenty years ago at a Piccolo Finale.  “It was monumental,” Philip recalls “A whole new musical language.”  They both grew up to be professional musicians.  The festivals have given our children the foundations to build their artistic lives.
            Most of all it’s the transcendent moments that grab our hearts.  These we remember most.  “I was at a Chamber Music performance several years ago, and Charles Wadsworth was introducing the piece about to be played,” Nancye Starnes recalls. “He told us that the composer was very much in love but restricted by her family from moving ahead with the relationship. So, he wrote a chamber piece to express his love. As I sat there listening to the work, I could feel, actually physically feel, his desire, his agony at not being able to be with her, how heartbroken he was. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I've not had such a reaction to a composition since.........but since I'm still attending the Chamber series--there's always hope!”
            Have fun, be entertained.  That’s enough.  But art can change lives.  It’s happening right now, right here in Charleston

If You Go:
Piccolo and Spoleto Festival USA are May 22 to June 7:

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Interpreting the Forest


            “Take a guess.  What’s that thing for?” Joel asked while pointing to a telephone- pole-size, wooden post shaped like a giant 7 stuck along the gravel road in the Nantahala National Forest.  “A nesting place?  Maybe a roosting spot?” I guessed.  “No, the park service built if for flying squirrels to cross the road.”  From anyone else, this tidbit would have made us skeptical.  We’d have asked how the squirrels knew to cross at that particular place.  And why do they need it since there’s almost no traffic at all?  Also, flying squirrels?  Really?  But hiking with Kathy and Joel Zachry is like having translators in a foreign country.  They speak forest fluently.  You could attribute it to his 30 year career as a college biology teacher or their 50 years of combined experience hiking and leading trips.  But it’s their passion for the natural world that really distinguishes them.
            When Joel retired in 1999 he anticipated missing the field trips he’d taken with his students.  So he and Kathy, a medical products company vice president, started their company GOAT (Great Outdoor Adventure Travel).  Its name refers to the couple’s pet fainting goats.  “They just pass out and fall down when they’re scared,” Kathy explained with obvious amusement.  It also refers to the animal’s sure-footedness.  Each year the couple leads hikes and workshops at a variety of venues including at J.C. Campbell Folk School, The Swag Country Inn, the Arrowmont School and even to Alaska where they've been over 25 times.  They also lead multi-day hikes on the Appalachian Trail and are particularly proud of their work with the Smoky Mountain Field School.  That 30-year old, award-winning program offers one-day and longer programs on various aspects of nature within the Great Smoky Mountain National Park.  As the program directors, the Zachrys help arrange the 60 classroom and field offerings taught by a diversified host of experts serving over 700 students a year.
            “Look at the hillside,” Joel said while gesturing across a steep slope. “Notice there are no tall trees.  They were all harvested 50 to 100 years ago.”  He led us to imagine how that was accomplished in those days:  miles of cables strung across the rocky terrain, mammoth rolling logs careening to the river, the impossibly strenuous work and the arduous lifestyle it required.  Another stop was along the gravel forest road that had recently collapsed and been repaired.  He wanted us to admire the engineering work.  They are thrilled with the emerging trillium that are sprouting despite  the recent snowfall. “There is a greater diversity of plant life in North Carolina than in all of Europe,” Joel pointed out.  They seem to know the name and medicinal uses for most every one of them.
 They make us stop to examine droppings.  “Notice the hair in it, “Kathy says as she prodded the poo with her walking stick.  “What animal was it and what did it eat?” They point out the symptoms of the disease challenges facing the piney forest and the Joyce Kilmer nearby.
            I joined their entourage during my stay at Snowbird Lodge in Robbinsville, N.C.  It’s one of several places where the Zachrys offer daily hikes and evening naturalist talks as an amenity.  I was surprised to learn that many of the inn’s guests had come not knowing about the free hikes.  For me it was the selling point.  Their promise of safety, maximized enjoyment and minimized worry had attracted me. Their familiarity with the dozens of hiking trails eliminated my having to do any research or to bumble around looking for trailheads.  The March weather varied like a light switch:  spring to winter, warm to cold.  This early in the season, trails were obscured by leaves and not recently used.  I would have thought we were lost without their confident strides ahead of us as we walked across the frosty, rocky terrain one day and to the sunny foot of a waterfall the next.
         The Zachrys are also experts on bears.  In fact they've written a book about it, Bears We’ve Met .  Although there are about two bears per square mile in the Smoky Mountains, “Black bear rarely attack humans with fewer than 60 human fatalities within the last 100 years …” Joel writes.  When they’re startled, they chomp, huff and snort which are merely anxious blusterings and not signs of imminent attack.    So he advises to make yourself as large as possible by spreading your arms, to back away slowly and to not run which triggers a pursuit response. “They have very little interest in eating us…of course there are always exceptions to that.”  Fortunately the only anxious blusterings  I heard were the hikers trudging uphill as we marveled at spring emerging in one of the most beautiful parts of our country.   

If you Go

Sunday, March 29, 2015

A Beach Vacation without the Crowds

            If your vacation calls for a detox from the debilitating effects of modern life, if you’re craving a big dose of nature, you’ll be happy to hear that your remedy is only a 20 minute boat ride from the Isle of Palms.  Step aboard the hourly ferry and exhale.  You’ll feel like the King or Queen of the Nile as you cruise the Intracoastal Waterway to the parallel universe of Dewees Island.  No traffic lights, just trees; no cars, just golf carts; no noise, just birdcalls and lots of peace and quiet.  Over 95% of the 1,200 acre island is in its natural state with only 64 secluded houses flanked by one of the most pristine and private beaches in the country. 

            In 1989 Hurricane Hugo decimated the coast and left Dewees Island’s habitat in tatters.  Two years later John Knott surveyed the damage and claimed that "the environment and development are natural allies." He envisioned building a community with environmental considerations as the cornerstone. Dewees’website brags that “all the rules of traditional beachfront real estate development were broken,” in a “process driven by restoration, preservation, not destruction and removal.”  Private boat docks, golf courses and manicured lawns are prohibited.  Homeowners are required to use indigenous plants, natural surfaced driveways and energy- and water-efficient designs.  Dunes were renourished using boardwalks, sand fencing and the requirement that all houses be built away from the shore.  The result is a self-selected group of environmentally attuned homeowners.  About 12 families live full time on the island.  Two or three even send their children to school on the mainland, commuting by ferry. The kids’ unique perspectives are derived from a combination of learning with their peers and running barefoot in the freedom of their island home.  Luckily, many of the homes are available for vacation rental.
    Some of the allure of visiting Dewees is the proximity of Charleston, especially for those who live elsewhere.  But many locals take advantage of the destination for romantic weekends or extended family gatherings. Often there’s a matriarch or patriarch who has the means to be the host and the desire to create priceless family memories.  “Kids love it out there.  They feel like Huck Finn,” says Emily Watson of Dewees Rentals.  Readers who’ve envied the lifestyle of island children growing up in the 1950’s as described in Josephine Humphrey’s Sullivan’s Island will find it here.  Kids can run around unattended, crabbing and fishing and exploring without danger.  Family time might include hitting the beach at sunrise with the island’s turtle team to identify nests or help hatchings scamper to the water.  Kayaks sit ready to grab and explore for alligators and birds in the marshes. The resident naturalist and two summer interns lead programs like creek floats, fishing, crabbing and a colorful golf cart parade.  Adults can enjoy concerts, art shows and happy hours in the beautiful Huyler House community room.  A salt water swimming pool, tennis courts, game room with ping pong, a nature center, fishing and crabbing docks and picnic tables on most beach boardwalks add to the fun. 

            Every house is unique.  Right beside the Huyler House community room are one-bedroom condos that adjoin the pool and can comfortably sleep two for under $2,000 a week.  The top of the line Ocean Retreat provides three bedrooms (two are master suites), a gourmet kitchen, exquisite artwork, sprawling screened porches and an ocean view for $4,000 per week.  Most houses have a few staples in the kitchen but vacationing on Dewees requires planning and simplifying.  Few clothes are needed but packing the food is tricky.  Ferry passengers are often hauling carefully packed bins knowing they can’t run down to the corner for milk or juice. There are wheeled carts at the boat Summer rentals fill up fast, often six months in advance. 
docks to help load the luggage and two hospitality interns are on hand during the summer to greet new arrivals.   Once on the island, all transportation is by golf carts which are included as part of the house rental fee.  Bicycles are also a great way to experience the island and can be transported on the ferry.  One guest remarked, “The lack of automobiles alone brought me back several shades of sanity.”
            The inconveniences of the location have been minimized as much as possible.  In the case of emergency, there are fire and medical responders on the island and a helipad.  Trash and recycling is handled by barge. Some things just require patience.   I’ve often seen painters and plumbers on the ferry headed to do repairs and barges of building materials, even bulldozers, en route.  But Dewees visitors and residents happily accept these obstacles as the trade-off for the simplicity, luxury and seclusion of Dewees. 

Dewees Island rentals:

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Misadventures in Paradise


            This was not the greeting I expected as my husband and I checked in at the Charleston airport for a long awaited trip to St. Lucia. “I’m not going to be able to issue your boarding passes because your passports expire in less than 90 days.” 
            “But we’re only going for a week.  We’ll still have more than two months remaining on them when we return,” I said.
            We insisted; we cajoled; we pleaded.  The plane left without us. 
            “I can’t imagine being more disappointed than I am right now,” I said as we sat in the cafĂ© fuming.  I’d spent months securing a writing gig at a luxurious hotel and arranging for complicated family responsibilities.  We had just finished 11 days of hosting over 20 family members during which the image of the St. Lucian hotel room, perched on a mountainside overlooking the ocean and twin peaks, had sustained me.  We had to fix it.  Even though it was barely 7 AM, we began making frantic phone calls:  trip insurance (no claim for this), the St. Lucia hotel, passport offices, the governor’s office (they’d help but it would take a few days) and American Airlines (they’d had our passport expiration dates since I’d booked the tickets months ago). 
The room we never saw. 

            This was not our first misadventure.   Twice we’d booked hotel rooms in far-flung places and bailed when we got there.  The remote beach and rocky shore in the Cayman Islands was unsuitable for our family with young children.  It only took one look at the garbage-strewn shore and dirty water in the Dominican Republic for us to rent a car and drive elsewhere. It had even happened closer to home at a chain hotel during the Savannah Jazz Festival.   The room reeked of cigarettes so we complained to the manager who said,  “If you think that room smells bad, you should come to my house.  It’s much worse.”  Uh, no thanks. 
            Mention misadventures and everyone has a story.  Two people told of missing trips abroad because their passports had too many stamps in them.  Not enough empty pages!  One of them was trying to leave on an expensive African safari he’d bought in a charity auction and lost thousands of dollars. 
            The worst misadventures involve the police.  We were stopped by two policemen in the Caribbean who showed us their radar gun indicating we’d been driving 2 miles over the speed limit.  It was a shake-down.  We gave them enough cash to buy themselves a nice lunch and drove off.  Our friend Jay wasn’t as lucky in New Orleans when a driver cut in front of him and his wife as they jogged across the street.  “What are you doing man?  You almost hit us!” he yelled as he swatted at the driver through an open window.  “I’m arresting you for assault, that’s what,” said the policeman in the unmarked car.  Instead of a weekend at the Jazz and Heritage Festival, he stewed in jail awaiting bail.
            Some misadventures require the police.  My widely travelled friends Steve and Laurie only found out afterwards that their cruise ship on the Nile had been fired upon by bandits from the shore while they slept. My friend Randy tells about taking a cab from La Guardia with an extremely agitated driver who continuously yelled into a cell phone while obsessively clawing with a back scratcher and repeatedly stopping in the middle of the expressway.  She dialed 911, poised to hit “send”.  Her son said later, “Sounds like a meth addict”.             
            Often misadventures end well.  My friend Ed recounts, “We took a red-eye and landed at Amsterdam’s Schiphol airport early in the morning. Our brains were half-asleep.  Before we got out of the airport, I went to a money-changing kiosk to cash in dollars for Euros to rent a lovely apartment in Anne Frank's neighborhood.” He exchanged $1300 and took a cab across town to pay the landlord but discovered that he only had the equivalent of $650. “I took a cab back to the airport, talked my way through security, and got to the kiosk. I told the lady that I was a total idiot, but that I had walked away without checking my money. ‘I never make mistakes,’ she said, ‘but I will count today's cash.’ In another minute, the supervisor appeared with $650 in Euros. I instantly fell in love with the Dutch people.”
At Copamarina Resort in Guanica, Puerto Rico
            Back in Charleston I was very discouraged.  “I have bathing suits and flip flops in my suitcase. We are not going home.  We’re going somewhere warm!  Today!”  I insisted.  On the phone with American Airlines my husband asked the essential question, “Where can we exchange these tickets to go today that’s warm and doesn’t require a passport?”  Within 24 hours we were wading in the Caribbean in Puerto Rico.  “We fixed it.”  I sighed.  It had paid to be flexible and proved once again that the difference between a trip and an adventure is when things don’t go as planned. 

Check document requirements and find help abroad here: