It was difficult to comprehend that just that morning we woke up in our own beds
and by lunch we were on the east coast. Normally, there are a number of familiar events
which mark our journey. Crossing into a new state, arriving at the next large city, eating at
the same horrible Cracker Barrel, reaching Savannah and going to The Pirate House, getting
lost while leaving Savannah etc... each one a satisfying reminder that we're getting closer.

But this time everything was different, and the first true moment of clarity was the bridge
outside of Jekyll and the sign at the bottom of it. Yeah, we're here. As much as I enjoy
the long drive, flying has its perks too.