The south's graceful gem

Author: By Charles Ball, Globe Correspondent

Date: SUNDAY, October 26, 1997

Page: M16

Section: Travel

Both experiences reach out to visitors in Savannah's remarkable historic district.

The 2 1/2-square-mile area stretches from one of these venues, a lively and romantic riverfront, to the other, serene streets richly imbued with the homes, architecture, houses of worship, and landscape formed by a three-century timeline that reaches from the city's founding as a British colony in 1733 through the vicissitudes of three wars and economic calamity to the brink of a new century.

Even better for the visitor (and an absolute marvel for anyone who has been lost in Boston's colonial-period cowpath maze), the district is laid out in an easy-to-follow grid decorated by 21 restful squares, separately named, lushly planted, and each with its own features.

Altogether, and it's capped by a handsome park, the restored district roughly encompasses the original city of Savannah, now a compact city-within-a-city about 20 blocks long and a dozen wide. Beyond it lies a more modest district of Victorian era dwellings.

Most tourists seek out Savannah primarily to immerse themselves in the historic district's natural and architectural feast of moss-filled trees, cobblestone streets, flower-colored squares, gracefully styled 18th- and 19th-century townhouses and homes, abundant gardens, sedate inns, and stately churches. There's also the nation's third-oldest synagogue, a Gothic revival structure that looks more like a church because, we were told, the architect was a lot more familiar with churches than synagogues.

Quite a few visitors are also in search of the locales of the bestseller ``Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil,'' which has given tourism a major boost. If the novel is to be believed, this Savannah emerges well after dark in nightclubs and mansions where sex, liquor, and drugs roil to the surface until daylight banishes them once again.

My wife and I never came closer to that world than the book itself, but we were eager visitors to the old Savannah so lavishly described in guidebooks and which, we were happy to find, lived up to its billing. We walked and walked the narrow streets and strolled in the Colonial Park Cemetery, reading remarkably legible tombstone inscriptions that put temporal concerns in perspective.

Chiseled into the stones -- many of which now lie up against a wall, having been displaced from the graves they marked by floods and time -- is the record of a city that escaped major damage in the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, and the Civil War and persevered through both Reconstruction and the economic wrench of cotton's demise.

Back on the streets, we were joltingly returned to the present as we sought to avoid death or injury from the constant flow of tourist vehicles -- trolleys, horse-drawn carriages, and vans -- that often clog the roads.

But when all was said and done, our hearts belonged to another piece of Savannah, only a few blocks away but a world removed, which we might have neglected except for our choice of hotel overlooking the Savannah River.

The heavily traveled river defines the waterfront area. Officially part of the historic district, it's as robust as the adjoining inner district is sedate and every bit as captivating in its own right.

The restored inns and the bed-and-breakfasts in the inner district offer some of the most charming, finest, best-known accommodations in Savannah. We chose, pretty much by accident, the River Street Inn -- located in a building that housed a pre-Civil War cotton warehouse. Many of its rooms, including ours on the fifth floor, overlook the river and its bustling traffic.

Our choice wedded us instantly to the river, its inhabitants, and environs, making us feel smugly superior to those who were missing out on the fun and excitement.

Directly beneath our window, monster container ships from throughout the world plied the waterway day and night, either arriving or departing Savannah's heavily used port -- 18 miles inland from the ocean and one of the busiest on the East Coast.

Where cotton once was king, Savannah's economy now is dominated by papermaking, food processing, chemicals, rubber, and plastic products, all of which flow through the port, preserving Savannah's reputation -- established in the 18th and 19th centuries -- as a center for world trade.

The deep-throated horns of the cargo vessels, and the shrieking whistles of the ubiquitous tugboats darting about them, gave us a river verite sight-and-sound show better than anything that might have been devised as a tourist attraction.

The Savannah runs wide and deep, borne by visible currents that once again carry thoughts back into history when General James Oglethorpe founded the southernmost English colony with 120 settlers, selecting high ground above the river as the site for his dream city.

But there's a lustier side to the river, too, which can honestly only be called a tourist strip, just a few blocks long, with the usual clothing, candle, candy, and cookie shops (all hail Georgia's pecan in its seemingly endless transformation into a variety of sweet products to die for), restaurants, and bars.

Actually, we had one of best meals on the strip, although we dined more elegantly inland (as we called it), and, on the weekend nights we were there, we found ourselves amused and bemused not by fellow tourists but by local teenagers who come to see and be seen, cruising in the finest American tradition.

Because my wife and I are no longer part of the cruising scene, we settled for evening strolls along a riverside walkway, separated from the strip by a street and a plaza, where we again admired the river traffic -- this time from ground level -- and from time to time succumbed to the romantic pull of the river, emulating our younger boardwalk companions as they sat and watched the submarine races (as we used to say). There were actual races in 1996, although farther downstream, along the marshlands, when the river became the site of the Summer Olympic yacht races.

We even cheated a few times by meandering to the handsome back terrace, overlooking the river, of the Savannah Marriott Riverfront -- an imposing hotel but still no rival, we thought, to our modest inn.

As we walked along River Street itself, our feet trod upon stones that were the discarded ballast from sailing ships of yore. Some of the stones also were used in the construction of Savannah's buildings.

Because River Street sits at sea level, well below that bluff so admired by General Oglethorpe, broad alleys and steep stone stairways lead upward to Bay Street and another historic icon -- Factors Walk. Factors were cotton merchants, and along this promenade they transacted the business of buying and selling the cotton stored in the brick and stone buildings now transformed into space for offices, shops, and our hotel (the hotel entrance faces Bay, although its elevator opens onto River Street).

When we were there, some of the office space was vacant, giving some of the buildings lining the walk a depressed look. In the interior district, too, preservationists have been hard-pressed to find the money to restore ahistoric theater, which sits empty and forlorn. In fact, the historic area is a mixture in places of the sublime and the gritty (laundromats and auto body shops, for example), but the argument can be made that this raises Savannah above the level of a Disneyesque re-creation and reminds us that it is a living city first and foremost.

Still, it is relatively small, with about 140,000 people, and preservationists have managed to restore some 1,000 historic buildings.

Thus, it remains a jewel, with a feast for the eyes at so many different turns. On our waterfront, for example, a particularly lovely sight at night, lighted and gleaming upstream, was the long and graceful arc of the Talmadge Memorial Bridge that connects Savannah to South Carolina.

For those inclined to day trips, Hilton Head in South Carolina is just 45 minutes away, and Charleston, Savannah's main rival as the South's most charming city (my wife and I split our vote), is a few hours away.

There is, of course, no need to choose between the two Savannahs, which are just minutes apart. But when we think of Savannah, we think of the beauty and energy of its river, all just beneath our window.

Because Savannah's a walking city, a rental car isn't really needed, unless you want to visit some of the outlying forts and beaches, or perhaps Hilton Head or Charleston in South Carolina. The taxi fare from the airport to the city is about $15 per person, although some hotels offer shuttle services.

By car, Savannah is off Interstate 95, the East Coast's main north-south highway, 250 miles from Atlanta and 140 miles from Jacksonville, Fla. Amtrak and Greyhound-Trailways provide regular train and bus service.

Food: Everybody is supposed to eat at two places representing both ends of the price scale. One is Mrs. Wilkes' Dining Room, which serves low-cost, family-style breakfasts and lunches featuring Southern dishes on weekdays. The other is Elizabeth on 37th, a converted mansion specializing in local seafood. We didn't make it to Mrs. Wilkes's because it was closed the days we were there; we couldn't get reservations at Elizabeth except at hours that intruded either on our nap time or bedtime. Call ahead. We did have dinner at the Old Pink House and 17Hundred90, both in the historic district, and at River's End on the waterfront. For our money, and none of these is inexpensive, the seafood at River's End was the most memorable meal, but we liked the ambience at the Pink House, where the portrait of a stern Colonial-era officer stared down at us. Dinner for two at these places, with wine and tip, ranged from about $70 to $90. For good seafood at lower prices, a friend recommends Tubby's Tank House.

Lodging: We would opt again for a place on the river, but make sure you ask for a room with a river view. Besides the River Street Inn and the Marriott Riverfront, the Hyatt Regency looms large on the riverfront. At the River Street Inn, ask for a room on the fourth or fifth floor, to put you farther above the noise of weekend revelries. Making the inn an excellent buy, we thought, were the free continental breakfast, free parking, and a late afternoon wine, cheese, and fruit spread in the lobby. Among the accommodations in the historic district, a friend recommends The Mulberry, a Victorian-style hotel whose antiques and paintings evoke a gentler time.

Sightseeing: The usual, and good, advice is to start at The Savannah Visitors Center at 301 Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard, a convenient stop if you're driving into town from Route 95. Tourists can pick up maps and guides, and many take a tour then and there to get a feel for the city. There are tours of all kinds -- by trolley, van, horse-drawn carriage, and boat -- and tickets for most can be purchased at the waterfront area and other locations as well as at the Vistors Center. There's even a midnight tour for aficionados of the novel ``Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.'' We chose an hourlong walking tour of the historic district conducted by a student from the highly-regarded Savannah College of Art and Design. There are many things to do and see on your own: house museums, the Colonial Park Cemetery, the Victorian district, several historic Protestant and Catholic churches, Congregation Mickve Israel, the City Market, the Telfair Academy of Arts and Sciences, the Savannah history and science museums, Ships of the Sea Museum, the River Street Train Museum, City Hall, and the US Customs House, to name some. Nearby, but requiring transportation, are several historic forts.

Recreation: Yes, there are golf courses, tennis courts, and rental bicycles. Kayaking, jet-skiing (can you think of more disparate activities?), sailing, and fishing are popular on the river and its waterways, and if you must have sand in your toes, Savannah Beach is 18 miles east of the city on Tybee Island, where the river and the ocean meet.