Where tackiness triumphs

Author: By Barbara Claire Kasselmann, Globe Correspondent

Date: SUNDAY, November 15, 1998

Page: M9

Section: Travel

My relocated daughter and I were heading north from her Georgia home through South Carolina. Destination: South of the Border. What we beheld at Exit 1 on the North/South Carolina border was way, way bigger than anyone had told us.

Friends, including some who had driven from New England to Florida, had been saying for years that I had to go there, but from their stories, I had envisioned a typical Southern-style roadside fireworks warehouse and tacky-souvenir outlet. In all my ramblings, I had seen a hundred or more of those. We could get a joke ashtray or some silly salt-and-peppers and be on our merry way.

But then, I had never crossed the border between the Carolinas on Interstate 95 or US 301 before. And, it turns out, South of the Border grows by leaps and bounds as time goes by. Folks who visited years ago just can't believe their eyes when they return.

Arriving, as we did, in late afternoon, we beheld what appeared to be a semi-major metropolis of garish, gaudy glitz galore, sprawling languidly in the bright Carolina sunshine.

For 99 miles along I-95, we had been reading the 70 or so spectacular billboards, quoting Pedro (the owner's stage name): ``Sometheeng Deeferent,'' ``Smart Birds Go . . .South of the Border,'' ``Honeymoon Suites: Heir Conditioned,'' ``Fort Pedro, Fireworks Capital of the US,'' ``Chili Today, Hot Tamale,'' ``You Never Sausage A Place'' -- Pedro's humor never let up.

One of the last signs instructs the kids, ``Keep yelling, kids, they'll stop.'' My daughter agreed that once upon a time I would have had a station wagon full of five screaming kids on my hands. There would have been no way we could have driven by Pedro's. She may be all grown up now, but there was no way either of us could pass up this chance.

Our first sighting was of the giant sombrero in the sky, of which we had been suitably forewarned. Then, we realized the 200-foot sombrero elevator tower was surrounded by neon, neon, neon of every color, blaring news of coffee, food, gas, motel rooms, fireworks, souvenirs, golf, grits, and gifts. Three major highways come together here, and all roads are lined with Stuff.

Two gas stations and the Silver Slipper 24-Hour Video Poker Mall greeted us as we exited down the ramp. Suddenly, we were in the heart of Pedroland.

After a few hours on the road and 10 straight minutes of uncontrollable, convulsive laughter, our first concern was a bathroom. Not to worry -- Pedro provides for all your needs.

At the very beginning of Pedroland, he immediately obliges with plenty of parking and rows and rows of well-maintained ``Free Public Restrooms'' and ``Pet Toilets.'' ``Small bladder? Big restrooms,'' he promises and delivers.

That out of the way, we began to survey Pedro's world, which was quite a task indeed. South of the Border is like a town unto itself, complete with an ``SOB'' water tower, a post office, gas stations, a fire department, campgrounds, a jogging track, a convention center, a railroad, Mexi-mini golf, an amusement park, tennis courts, dog kennels, a bank, an Africa Shop, bottle rockets, video poker, and El Drug Store.

You could probably live at South of the Border, if you wanted to, but we found three or four hours to be sufficient time to spend among 350 acres of mostly-Mexican-themed PJ (Pure Junque).

After following billboards all the way from Florida or Delaware, many people traveling north or south along I-95, 301, or 501 do opt to spend the night, however. With 300 rooms and suites, tennis courts, and two swimming pools, South of the Border Motor Hotel features a ``private covered carport'' with every motel room and ``20 Sexy Honeymoon Suites.''

If you don't want to stay in a honeymoon suite, you can buy a picture postcard to see what they look like -- red velvet ``clamshell'' beds with padded headboards lined with mirrors and a small built-in TV. Complimentary champagne, of course, for the ``newlyweds'' or the otherwise romantically inclined.

South of the Border didn't spring up overnight. ``Pedro'' began building it around 1949, before the days of the interstates, when there was not much to speak of along that stretch of US 301. He tries to add new things every year or two.

My daughter and I decided to save the elevator ride to the top of the sombrero for sunset, and do a little shopping while the sun shone. Don't wait too long, however, they warned us: You never know when high winds may shut down the tower. We definitely didn't want to risk that.

There are at least 14 shops to browse in, and we started with Pedro's Toy and Candy Shop at the base of the elevator, and then headed across the highway to the huge ``great-white-shark-infested'' Myrtle Beach Shop. After you've done a few shops, you begin to detect a theme.

Please don't tell my family and friends, but they're all getting Christmas gifts in the Pedro genre: Pedro ashtrays, Pedro backscratchers, Pedro mugs, magnets, matches, coloring books, glasses, key chains and T-shirts. Sombreros are too big to haul back north on the plane, but they're available at most shops.

Pedro has six restaurants, but something about the ambience inside, cow and sombrero themes, Hamburger Heaven, Hot Tamale, and the Cafe of the Pink Turtle made us decide to save our appetites for later. We were apparently in the minority, however -- tons (no pun intended) of travelers seemed to be soaking up hot dogs, burritos, and coffee at Pedro's kind-of-cute eateries.

As the sun started to slip low in the West, casting a lovely pink-and-blue light over all the Carolina lowland, we scurried back to the sombrero tower for our ride to the top. This was a highlight of our outing, and we had wisely chosen the perfect time.

Once again, South of the Border took our breath away. A world of bright red and blue and green and yellow and orange neon spread before us. Headlights and taillights of cars streamed north and south along I-95, and the setting sun turned farmlands, forests, and Pedroland into a surreal 360-degree painting, now permanently emblazoned on my brain.

Lured back into Pedro's wonderland by the sight of all that colorful neon lighting up the dusk, we were rejuvenated by seeing a bit of the place by night. Most of South of the Border is open until 10 or 11 p.m., and a few essentials -- truck stop, gas stations, El Drug Store, Hot Tamale, Silver Slipper -- usually stay open all night.

There's a footbridge across US 301 from one side of SOB to the other, and it's a great place to get your bearings and view all 350 acres of the brilliantly-lit world of Pedro at night. Besides, we didn't want to risk life and limb running across the highway in the dark.

From the bridge, we could see the rides of PedroLand Park all lit up -- the Wild Sombrero, Quadzila, the parachute ride, a ferris wheel, and carousel.

Golf of Mexico is the Mexi-mini golf course. Its 18 exotically decorated holes, under a dome, feature deserts, beaches, jungles, and Old Spanish-style missions. Fort Pedro and Rocket City are a couple of places where you can surely fill all your bottle rocket and Roman candle needs, if you have any.

Our trunk loaded down with sombrero-themed gifts and our memory banks filled to the brim with a pink sunset, our first sombrero elevator ride, and all the magical wonders of 350 acres of neon and fun, Pedro-style, we headed south toward Florence. Over a big green salad and a glass of nice red wine, we remembered the day and shared a few more laughs.

South of the Border had not disappointed.

Staying there: South of the Border Motor Hotel (803-774-2411) has nice rooms, pools, whirlpools, restaurants, and many other amenities, with rates from about $45 to $65 for two. We headed south about 40 miles to Florence (take I-95 or US 301), where there are more than 20 motels, including many of the major chains. We found the Park Inn International (803-662-9421), south on routes 301 and 52 (South Irby Street), comfortable and a good deal -- about $40 for two, including the breakfast buffet.

Dining there: The Peddler Steakhouse at South of the Border features steak dinners in the $12-$20 range; the Sombrero Restaurant, open 6 a.m. till midnight, offers everything from eggs with sausage and grits to burgers and burritos to Southern fried chicken and barbecued ribs; little coffee shops feature hamburgers, hot dogs, and Mexican specialties. We dined at Applebee's in Florence, along a major restaurant strip near our motel on South Irby Street.