I had never been to Hilton Head Island (HHI), South Carolina. As someone who prides herself on exploring all things tourism, this was a glaring omission. However, since I don’t play golf, I’d never been quite sure what HHI had to offer me. When my friends Doug and Cheryl invited me to join them and their Atlanta-based daughter, Heidi, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to check it out.
The RV park in Bluffton was lovely, with plenty of amenities—most of which I knew I wouldn’t use. Later that evening, once Doug, Cheryl, and Heidi arrived, we found a Brazilian steakhouse for dinner and explored a bit of Hilton Head Island. To be honest, HHI wasn’t really my style. I don’t play golf, and aside from the usual postcards and souvenirs, I wasn’t in the market for anything. The island had a distinctly upscale, golf-focused vibe, and the architecture didn’t impress me. Most homes were obscured by heavy landscaping, and while the palm trees, live oaks, and Spanish moss made for picturesque drives, it all felt a bit monotonous to me. I understand that Hilton Head aims to avoid the flashy feel of Pigeon Forge, Tennessee—but, truthfully, I find Pigeon Forge far more engaging.
With my retirement plans arriving sooner than expected, I thought this trip could be the ideal start to my “Tennessee Gypsy Adventure.” On my last day at Lake Hartwell, as I was preparing to shower after tearing down my setup, my phone rang. It was Doug and Cheryl, calling to ask where I was. When I told them I was still at Lake Hartwell, they excitedly said, “Well, we’re in Clemson! Want to join us for lunch?” It felt like kismet. I skipped the shower and headed straight to meet them, happy for the unexpected chance to catch up.
After lunch in Clemson, I began the journey to Hilton Head. My check-in at the RV park in Bluffton, just across the causeway from HHI, wasn’t until the next day. Unsure of where to stay overnight, I took my time on the road. Late in the evening, I decided to try Cracker Barrel’s complimentary RV parking. It was packed, but I managed to snag one of the last spots around 6:30 p.m. I left my car hitched to the trailer, skipped the usual setup steps, and simply sacked out for the night. It wasn’t perfect—no stabilizing or slide-outs—but it was comfortable enough. The next morning, I enjoyed a hearty Cracker Barrel breakfast before heading to Bluffton.For Thanksgiving, we decided to skip the traditional American feast and opted for a Low Country Boil instead. Cheryl ordered it from a company that provides everything you need: the pot, the pan, and all the pre-packaged ingredients, complete with cooking instructions. It was a fantastic meal—plenty to go around, with leftovers for days.
The day after Thanksgiving, while most people were out battling Black Friday crowds, we chose a different adventure: a day trip to Charleston. But that’s a story for the next post!
