I grew up about 50 miles from the South Carolina border. My first memories of the state were driving through it to Athens or to see family in Augusta or Cartersville. We’d drive South on I-95 until we hit I-20 and headed East through Columbia. My Dad used to remark on how terrible the highways were, and out of frustration for the lack of cell phone service there he once said the state is basically a foreign country.
When we crossed over the North Carolina-South Carolina border we’d hit the giant light up sombrero of ‘South of the Border’, a faux-Mexican themed motor inn surrounded by a compound that includes tons of horrible attractions like a reptile lagoon and poorly maintained amusement park rides.