I’d heard about Savannah’s charm for years, but nothing quite prepared me for the reality of stepping into what felt like a picture-perfect movie set. From the moment I arrived, I was struck by something unexpected: the cleanliness. The streets were immaculate, the squares meticulously maintained, and everywhere I looked, people were unfailingly polite—holding doors, offering directions, greeting me with genuine Southern hospitality.
Savannah’s layout is unlike any American city I’ve visited. General James Oglethorpe designed it in 1733 around a series of public squares, and that original grid remains largely intact. Twenty-two verdant squares punctuate the downtown area, each one a shaded oasis surrounded by historic buildings. Spanish moss drapes from massive live oaks, creating natural canopies that filter the Georgia sunlight into dappled patterns on the cobblestones below.
I started my morning at Collins Quarter, where I ordered their signature smashed avocado on sourdough with poached eggs and a flat white. The café buzzed with locals and tourists alike, everyone speaking in those hushed, respectful tones that seemed to characterize the entire city.
After breakfast, I wandered through the Historic District, letting the squares guide my path. Each one has its own personality—Johnson Square with its prominent monuments, Chippewa Square where Forrest Gump’s famous bench scene was filmed, Madison Square with the Gothic Revival masterpiece of the Green-Manse house looming nearby. I spent hours simply walking, photographing wrought-iron balconies, admiring the Italianate and Federal architecture, and pausing to read historical markers.
For lunch, I found myself at Mrs. Wilkes’ Dining Room, a Savannah institution. They serve family-style Southern comfort food at communal tables, and I sat elbow-to-elbow with strangers who quickly became lunch companions. We passed heaping bowls of fried chicken, mac and cheese, collard greens, sweet potato soufflé, and at least a dozen other dishes, with the inevitable sweet tea.
The afternoon brought me to Bonaventure Cemetery, about fifteen minutes from downtown. This wasn’t my first historic cemetery visit, but Bonaventure transcended the typical experience. The cemetery sprawls along the Wilmington River, and walking its paths felt more like entering a sculpture garden than a burial ground. Weathered statues stood sentinel over graves draped in resurrection ferns. The famous “Bird Girl” statue (now relocated to a museum) once stood here, immortalized on the cover of “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.” I wandered among the graves of Johnny Mercer and other notable Savannah residents, feeling the weight of history and the strange beauty of Victorian mourning traditions.
Back in town, I visited the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist, with its soaring spires and stunning stained glass, and strolled along River Street, where old cotton warehouses have been transformed into shops and restaurants overlooking the Savannah River. Cargo ships still glide past, a reminder that this picturesque city remains a working port.
For dinner, I treated myself to The Grey, housed in a restored Greyhound bus terminal. Chef Mashama Bailey’s menu celebrates Southern ingredients with sophisticated preparations. I started with cornbread topped with oysters and caviar, moved on to grilled Georgia trout with field peas, and finished with a chocolate soufflé that arrived at the table still rising.
Walking back to my hotel through the lamplit squares as evening settled over the city, I understood why Savannah casts such a spell on visitors. It’s not just the architecture or the history—it’s the care evident in every detail, the courtesy in every interaction, the sense that people here genuinely value preserving something precious. In a world that often feels rushed and careless, Savannah moves at its own gracious pace, and I found myself slowing down to match it.