Since emmigrating to the USA in 2008, I’ve worked all over the place and used the time to explore this great big country: Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Nevada (Vegas Baby!), Texas and California. Great memories of each state and the marvelous cities I’ve lived in. Normally spending between 6 months to a year in each location has given me a great opportunity to see the sights and discover what I like, where I want to be and the people I want to be part of.
I’ve lived on the Southern Edge of Charleston SC (a place called Folly Beach) and the Northern edge on Charleston (a place called Daniel Island).
Charleston has a special charm.
According to Travel and Leisure magazine:
No. 1 Charleston, South Carolina
Urbane but quaint: This South Carolina city won the survey by balancing sophisticated tastes with small-town charm. Charleston is home to four out of the survey’s top five small-city hotels in the U.S.: these boutique hotels tend to be rehabbed mansions, like the former cotton-baron homeWentworth Mansion, or the antiques-filled Planter’s Inn, which dates back to 1844. Planter’s Inn is also home to one of the best low-county restaurants in the city: Peninsula Grill, where you can start with oyster stew and wild-mushroom grits and finish with its signature coconut cake. Not only did these hospitable South Carolinians rank highly for their well-crafted local cuisine, but they also landed near the top of the survey for likeability.
Chucktown is calling me… home.
I’m going to be calling Charleston my home.
I originally bought this bike in Virginia, when I first moved to the good ole USA back in 2010. I got it from a guy in Ohio who had not ridden it for nearly 6 years (or so he said). But, the bike was clean and it started after a little persuasion, ran for about 15 minutes and then died… I trailored it back to my then home in VA, parked it in my office and promptly went off to work in Georgia for nearly a year. The triumph slept once more.
Then I relocated to South Carolina, Tiberius moved with me into a fresh new storage locker. I did some investigation and found the fuel line had come off the input port in the fuel pump in side the tank. Refitted the line and he started up (with a little reluctance) and I even managed to ride him around my local community for 20 minutes before it died again.
Hashtag “back in storage”.
Then I took a 3 month job in Vegas (who wouldn’t?) and that then stretched to a year and then lead me to here — Southern California. I’m here for a few while, so it’s time to try and fire the old geezer up and get him on the roads…