PALMETTO, GA – At most, I was planning on a weekend romp in the woods.
Because really, any getaway spot claiming both small-town charm and post-mod It-ness usually amounts to a big pile of neither. Or Orwellian-scale creepiness. Or something else just as awful.
Not you. Never you.
A sustainable farming community and inn nestled just outside the city limits, you were the one place that my locavore-preaching foodie friends, cricket-worshipping writer friends, and boonies-craving city friends could all agree was worth the lack of cell phone reception, Wi-Fi, and general sense of knowing where you are on a Georgia state map. (Though in fact you're twenty miles away from the world's busiest airport.)
At the on-site dining dens, The Hil and The Farmhouse, you piled my plate — and stole my heart — with skillet chicken dinners, Tennessee bourbon-soaked brûlées, and a few precious, mud-caked hours spent digging for sunchokes as I blissed out on your farm.
You humored my need to park my car within sprinting distance of my log cabin. But you didn't smirk when I finally conceded that, yes, the walk down the winding dirt road to The Blue Eyed Daisy bake shop for a hammock-swing feast of country deviled eggs and fennel prosciutto was, actually, much nicer than the drive. Now, let's talk about the unreal mosaic-tile sun deck. And the string lights (string lights!) that sputtered on just as my bedmate and I resigned ourselves to a drunken back porch slow dance in the pitch-black darkness.
Had I spotted it first, you would have had me at the stone labyrinth you keep tucked away (and inexplicably unadvertised) just past the cow pasture.
As always, you insisted on taking the long way. But once I finally got you, well, there was no hope of ever getting over you.
PLAN YOUR TRIP
Flight: Fly to Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta airport (ATL). It's a short drive from there.