My visions of Savannah were much like reality: oak trees covered in Spanish moss, colonial homes which line cobblestone streets, southern accents, etc. What I didn't envision was the lesser-known history of pirates sailing into port, getting the men of the city drunk and sticking them on ships, only for them to wake up on a boat, halfway across the Atlantic.
What's left is a decaying strip of buildings, once brothels and pubs, now a row of tacky bars and souvenir shops. It's still fun though to wander along the port and imagine the barges coming in are full of rogue pirates, ready to take the city.