Happy Birthday to Clare! We celebrated with a tall stack of pancakes before packing up the campsite and rolling back on the road.
Including a stop for lunch, it took us about four hours to get to Williamsburg. We pulled into our motel, the Governor’s Inn, in mid-afternoon. It’s a no-frills budget motel, which I booked so that we could splurge on two adjoining rooms for two nights without completely breaking the bank.
As I researched the area while plotting out our trip itinerary, I didn’t find a lot of campground choices. From what I could gather online, greater Williamsburg is pretty developed, with a Busch Gardens and a few other water parks, including a Great Wolf Lodge, which the kids wistfully waved to as we passed by. I expected a lot of traffic congestion and in-your-face tourist attractions, but from what we have seen so far, the area has not been taken over by circus acts, wax museums and go-kart tracks a la Wisconsin Dells and Gatlinburg.
The absolute best feature of our two-story, brick, circa-1963 motel is the outdoor pool, where we relaxed immediately after checking in. It’s pretty hot here, and muggy, and a dip in the pool felt especially delightful. I’m not sure our appearance at the pool delighted the other guests, though. After three days of camping without showers, I’m certain we left a pretty solid ring of grime around the pool's edge.
I’m not sure what to think about Colonial Williamsburg, yet. We had dinner reservations at Kings Arms Tavern, a recreation of a circa-1772 establishment right on Duke of Gloucester Street, the main historic drag. I expected Williamsburg to be a giant, bustling living history museum brimming with historic reenactors. But the whole area seemed oddly deserted. We’ve blocked out the whole day to explore CW tomorrow, and right now I’m not sure we’ll find enough to do.
At the Kings Arms, we dined by candlelight as we were served by costumed stewards and entertained by a strolling fiddler. Our waiter honored Clare with a birthday card, and the staff serenaded her and presented her with a slice of chocolate cake topped with candles. In her opinion, this is the best restaurant ever. She was beaming.
Charlie, however, was clearly not feeling well. He had been complaining of a headache all evening, and wanted to lie down in my lap all through dinner. I worried that he was going to blow chunks of colonial-style chicken strips all over ye olde wait staff, so we hustled out pretty quickly and put the kids right to bed as soon as we got back to the motel.
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