Carry Me Back to Old Virginny

21 December 2009

Staying on 17, we found ourselves in Hampton Roads--which is actually the name of a waterway as well as the area surrounding it. The mouth of the James and Elizabeth Rivers are part of it, and the harbour itself empties into the Chesapeake Bay and thence the Atlantic. This is almost home ground for us, as my family spent a lot of time down here when we were kids, and Washington itself is almost on the Chesapeake Bay. Crossing the water into Tidewater took us onto the peninsula that's home to Colonial Williamsburg--and our destination for the evening. And somewhat longer.

The aforementioned snowstorm that had been promising fun for the last few days finally kicked into gear just as we hit  Newport News, with icy rain, sleet and even snow. Virginians being southerners have little to no idea how to drive in the snow. So they generally opt for the 'go faster and beat it home' approach. Insane rednecks driving 90 miles an hour on slick roads is not conducive to relaxing travel. We had been hoping to get to DC that night, but as the weather got worse by the minute, we decided to stop a bit early and plonked ourselves into the America's Best Value Inn in Colonial Williamsburg for the duration. The reasoning here was that we could either get stuck in god knows where on I-95, or in a place we know a bit and has Hooters.

The America's Best Value Inn is convenient to Hooters, yes. Should you ever find yourself snowed in at Colonial Williamsburg, keep this in mind. I know it's just what I was thinking as we dodged traffic (on foot) across a four-lane highway in a blizzard to get to waitresses in slouch socks and orange hotpants. I do wonder about the slouch socks--does Hooters have their own factory for them? Or a warehouse where they stocked up in 1991? Because I genuinely don't think I've seen them in a shop for at least 15 years. Anyway, proving that the universe does have a sense of humour, our waitress proved to be about 8 months pregnant. Her sassy little fanny pack (which is funny if you're from the UK, but means nothing naughty to Americans), was draped around her shoulder as she was too huge to wear it. I like to think I'm not a rude person, but I know I was staring at this poor girl. I suppose they can fire your for not being hot, but pregnant is allowed.

The storm was much worse the farther north one went, although it was mostly slushy snow where we were. We opted to book ourselves in for another night, and spent the grey damp day at Colonial. Lunch at an 18th century English tavern, eating German stew served by a Polish waitress in colonial American costume. As you do.

If anyone hasn't been, I can only say that you really must spend some time in CW at some point. That is only partly because I've had to spend so much of my own life there and I like to share the pain. Actually, it's an astounding place, an entire 18th century town recreated using original and reconstructed buildings, with shopping and restaurants and entertainment and craftsmen and fantastic museums of decorative arts and animals and many hotels. The surrounding area is full of cheaper hotels and outlet malls and one of the best amusement parks on earth. Also the first English settlement in the US that survived at Jamestown, and the battlefield where the English finally lost America at Yorktown. My mother is slightly obsessed and practically raised us in mob caps and tricorns here. My father is not obsessed but patiently allowed this.

After watching the poor boys do their fife-and-drum routine and viewing the excellent Quilting exhibit at the Dewitt-Wallace Decorative Arts Museum (which David especially enjoyed), we went to Target (because what else is there to do in the snow?), ate at a themed sandwich chain called the Firehouse, and went to see the rugby movie 'Invictus.' Personally, I think Morgan Freeman just came across like Morgan Freeman, but the consensus seems to be that he makes a better Mandela than Mandela. The rugby was alright, though.

Finally, on our way up and out of the south. As the local roads were all pretty clear by this point, we attempted I-95, the main road from Florida to Maine. One might think this would be fine, that the one road someone would plow would be this road, four days before Christmas and all. But no. The trip to Fredericksburg, which ought to take like an hour, took four. The road was an absolute disgrace, frozen piles of slush and backups to rival those of Lhasa at rush hour. Argh. I hate winter.

We pretty much drove straight through DC, Maryland, Delaware and Pennsylvania. After weeks in Texas it seemed odd to be getting through four or five states in a day, but these are all pretty small and the roads actually got better the farther north we travelled.