Done with the Governor’s Palace, we headed to the main thoroughfare.
Colonial Williamsburg is a town, like any other.
If all the other towns were full of beautifully restored 18th century historic buildings that is.
George Wythe was Thomas Jefferson’s mentor.
So, you know…. that kind of town.
At the corner? The Bruton Parish Church, established in 1674…..
Still an active Presbyterian presence…
You can almost see George Washington walking amongst the stately old live oaks.
(Yes, he worshiped here.)
Taking a left put us on Duke of Gloucester Street, the busiest section of town.
Every house and business was decked out for Christmas….
With the traditional natural fruit and greenery it’s become famous for.
Another carriage made it’s way by….
And as much as I wanted to take one…. the husband had no interest whatsoever.
I mean, look at them…
They were just waiting for me to climb aboard.
But no. The husband had caught sight of this:
And that was where we went next.
Yay. More weapons…
Okay, the collection was impressive as hell.
And filled with various painful ways to kill people.
And yes…
The armory fellow was well versed and full of interesting facts.
But… but…
Horsies….
Are cuter than cannons any ole day.
And you can’t ride a cannon.
(Or maybe you can… but you probably shouldn’t.)
Next up was lunch at Chowning’s Tavern, where it’s wreath spoke volumes.
A reconstructed public house Josiah Chowning operated in 1766…
The menu of Brunswick Stew, Shepherd’s Pye and Welsh Rarebit reflected the fare of the day.
I opted for the hot smoked turkey trencher which was marvelous…. while the husband continued his French Onion soup trend.
Rum cake?
Don’t mind if I do.
Light, rummy and utterly fabulous.
Hot tea and mixed berry crumble for the other half.
Which to be honest, was so God awful sweet he could hardly eat it.
( Lunch photos just for you Martin.)
River's world..... 