Along the southeast Georgia coast, a patchwork of islands known as the Golden Isles offer a wide range of images and experiences. The largest and best-known, St. Simon’s Island is a mini Hilton Head, with many vacation resorts and a sizeable year-round community. The center of activity on St. Simon’s is at the south tip of the island, where the “village” consists of a central plaza and a few blocks of shops, saloons, and restaurants along Mallory Street, which leads down to the waterfront pier and a circa-1872 lighthouse. Sea kayaks, bicycles, and boats can be rented here, and there are a number of reasonable motels; for food try the popular Fourth of May Café (912/638-5444), off Mallory at 444 Ocean Boulevard.
The one real “sight” on St. Simon’s Island is the Fort Frederica National Monument, at the northwest edge of the island, which protects the remains of the village surrounding what was once the largest fortress in the British colonies. Built in 1736 and abandoned in 1763, Fort Frederica played a vital role in keeping Georgia British, rather than Spanish; in 1742, a key battle was fought six miles south of the fort, at a site known as “Bloody Marsh.”
For the total Golden Isles experience, splurge on a night or two at one of the country’s plushest resorts, the four-star Cloister Hotel ($450 and up; 912/638-3611 or 800/732-4752), which covers adjacent Sea Island with 36 holes of golf courses and 264 Spanish-style rooms. Presidents from Coolidge to Bush have vacationed here, the late JFK Jr. got married here, and the G8 economic summit was held here in 2004, which should give you some idea of the elite character of the place.
Back on the mainland, heavily industrialized Brunswick (pop. 16,500) feels about as far from the genteel pleasures of the Golden Isles as you can be. Most vacationers pass through quickly on their way to and from the Golden Isles, but there is one great place to stop: the Georgia Pig (912/264-6664), southwest of town at the US-17/82 junction, just east of I-95 exit 29. Tucked away next to a gas station in a scruffy woodland, it looks like it’s been there forever; the bare-bones decor—log rafters, pine picnic tables, and creaking front door—disappears when you bite into the absolutely perfect ribs and fabulous pulled-pork sandwiches, which are smoked in a hickory-fired oven right behind the counter.
