Before I regale you with yet another day of our vacation adventures….. a little personal history.
In case you hadn’t guessed? The husband and I don’t have any children. It was a lifestyle choice we made many years ago and haven’t had cause to regret it. But back in the early 90’s we took a neighbor’s child under our wing when her single mother was having a hard time.
She was the child we never had….
We helped raise her…..
And since she had no contact with her real father, my husband took over the role.
Attitude adjustments et al.
She wasn’t ours biologically…..
But she will always be the child of our hearts.
We’ve watched her grow into a beautiful young woman…
And now she’s happily married…..
With a child of her own….
And we feel like we have a grandchild as well. They still live in North Carolina so whenever we’re near…. we get together. She loves that we have a timeshare and enjoys staying with us at the various resorts. On Day 8 of this trip? She and her daughter joined us for the weekend before Christmas.
When they arrived? A goose traffic jam…
I love me some goosers… so pardon the ridiculous tone of voice I use in the video.
As well as me cursing out the idiot who was honking their horn at those sweet little waddlers.
After their 4 1/2 hour trip, Destiny and Gracie were hungry so we took them to that great seafood place we’d found… Fat Tuna.
We stuffed ourselves silly with hushpuppies, cornbread and shrimp and grits….
While the husband opted for a seafood pasta.
This was in anticipation of where we would be spending the afternoon and evening… because when you have a 7 year old? Sitting around chatting with a cocktail isn’t going to cut it.
So the husband and I did what we never… ever!… do.
We went to a theme park.
And it was just as awful as I knew it would be.
We stood in a long line to board the shuttle.
We crammed onto the shuttle like sardines.
We waited on long lines to buy overpriced tickets…. and not even a funny spare tire cover could make up for what we were about to experience.
(I hope he was talking about the jeep and not his wife.
I really do.)
But yes…. the husband and I shelled out $240 frickin’ dollars to visit Christmas Town at Busch Gardens.
No senior discount, no military discount, no under 12 discount.
Suck it Santa!
Did I mention it was also $20 to leave our car in the north 40, somewhere south of bumblef*ck Egypt parking lot?
$260 just to walk in.
Kill me now.
But we were there with people we loved…
And my husband… who never wants to pose for photographs?
Part 2 of the historic triangle in the Williamsburg ,Virginia area is Jamestown. What I didn’t know before arriving was that there are 2 distinct ways to experience it…. the National Park site and the more touristy recreation.
We opted for the National site first, by way of the Colonial Parkway.
The Parkway is a beautiful 23 mile road that runs along the James River from Williamsburg to Yorktown.
We jumped off at Jamestown and drove the 5 mile Island Loop, a self guided tour that explores the natural environment and history of the area.
Then it was on to the visitors center.
I won’t bore you more than I already do with the story. You can read about it here. Suffice it to say Jamestown was the first permanent English settlement, the birthplace of Virginia… and basically, America.
There was a wonderful theater…
With multiple screens… where we brushed up on our high school history.
Outside there was a long boardwalk…
That led to a monument…
Which I’m sure the husband was glad he didn’t have to climb.
It was there we waited for our Park Ranger tour guide.
Who led us to the original settlers’ site.
That’s Pocahantas to the right… and yes, there was a Mockingbird on her head. A real one who proceeded to poop on her nose.
The only thing left from the original settlers’ buildings was one crumbling wall of a church.
But archeologists have been actively digging here for years….
Removing thousands of artifacts from the fort….
And various other buildings.
Here, the husband checks out a model recreation of the site.
The soldiers barracks.
Where the Queen visited a decade ago.
And the required selfie by the water.
There was an outline of a church with markers for the identified graves.
And a graveyard for unidentified remains.
It was a lovely spot.
But the history of the hardships the colonists suffered sure made you appreciate the wealth of opportunities and conveniences we have now.
Famine, civil unrest, severe weather, murder, Indian attacks…. even cannabilism. They experienced it all.
Second required selfie by the water to lighten the mood.
It was a fascinating tour…
And we learned a lot.
But it was lunchtime…. and the husband’s stomach was growling.
Not wanting to waste time and drive back to town, we were glad to find a small cafe on site.
You couldn’t beat the view.
Chicken salad spinach wrap with potato salad for me…
Tomato bisque and a Sloppy Joe with potato salad for the husband.
Living in North Carolina you encounter cities, towns, streets, schools, sports teams, forests, streams, hospitals etc. etc. with the names Raleigh, Virginia Dare and Croatan. Do we know for certain what happened to those early colonists?
No, we do not.
But after visiting this National Park, reading the history and having one extremely long conversation with a Park Ranger…. I wondered why it was a mystery at all.
We stood at the exact site of that early fort.
Granted, there wasn’t much to see.
A few humpa humpas and a sign.
There was also a squirrel with a very large nut, but I’m guessing he wasn’t an original 16th century squirrel.
Walking around the park we did find a theater where they hold seasonal plays.
Weird diving board not withstanding…
It didn’t hold our attention for long…..
Even with the interesting tree branches….
And lovely old live oaks.
Back at the visitor center I learned the whole story and basically, it goes like this.
The first English settlers arrived in 1585. They were a military group sent by Sir Walter Raleigh to colonize the New World. They built a fort, the effort failed, they returned to England.
The second group of settlers landed in 1587. This consisted of approx 120 men, women and children. They figured they would fish for food…. but none of them were fishermen. Great plan!They met friendly Indians who totally supported and fed them for 2 years until a drought in the 3rd year left the Indians barely enough to feed themselves. The English were ticked off that the gravy train had run out, so they slaughtered the chief and stole his food. Thus ending the friendly relationship with the native population.
Disease, famine, and a harsh winter all took their toll. When Governor John White sailed back to England for supplies, he had no idea a war with Spain was about to start…. and didn’t make it back for 3 years. When he returned, the colony was deserted. The only clue? The word Cro scratched into a tree and Croatan scratched into a post.
Did the Indians kill all the colonists? Maybe… but I doubt it.
The Croatan were a local tribe with a history of assimilating other peoples into their society. Later English settlers spoke of meeting blue eyed Indians.
Where’s the mystery? Sick and starving, the remaining colonists set out to find the friendly Indians and scratched Croatan as a message to those who followed.
Blue eyed natives?
What do you thinkthey were doing for those 3 years.
See? There are memes about it…
It must be true.
Anyway…. the visitor center had some interesting items.
And I adore old maps. This way there be monsters….
Liz was there.
As was Walt….
But how about that ceiling?
Made my neck hurt just thinking about painting it.
And the walls?
Were not just any old walls.
Yes, I’m really blogging about walls.
Just go with it.
A pineapple…
And a flying fish (painted by none other than Governor John White, the only unlost member of the Lost Colony) later…..
We left Roanoke.
Drove back through the Outer Banks…
Just in time for me to try and snap some sunset pics at 85mph.
That didn’t work well.
But the sun was perfectly poised on the horizon…
As we went over the bridge…
And headed back to the mainland.
Two hours into the 3 hour trip back we stopped at Cracker Barrel for a quick dinner. You’ve all been there, no pictures required.
But country fried turkey? Definitely reminded me we were in the south.
They’ll fry anything!
Last photo of the day is that weirdo building in Virginia I asked about previously.
Although this time it was quite colorful as we went by.
During the 17 years we lived in North Carolina, we never managed to make it to the Outer Banks… though not for lack of trying on my part. So on Day 6 of this vacation? A three hour road trip.
Past the Lamberts Point Coal Terminal in Hampton Roads…
The largest coal exporting port in the country.
And if you think it’s pretty? Just imagine how nice it smells….
Yes. Kind of like that.
Over and through the Hampton Bay Bridge Tunnel…
And past some tempting tourist attractions.
Is it shocking we didn’t stop?
No.
It is not.
One more very long bridge later….
And we were there.
The Outer Banks of North Carolina.
The Graveyard of the Atlantic.
200 miles of beach.
Where the wind was so fierce it was blowing said beach right across the road when we got there.
It had been a mild 48 degrees in Williamsburg, but here?
It felt like minus 12.
Beachfront condos and rentals were everywhere.
And in every color you can imagine.
Neighbor’s roof blocking your view?
No worries, just build a deck on yours.
It never ceases to amaze me how little property they can build on these days. Our town has a 3 acre minimum….
At the Outer Banks? It must be 3 inches.
And though we were getting hungry for lunch…
Awful Arthur’s was closed.
Damn… and I really wanted to see how awful it was.
But since we have a good friend named Richard, who is sometimes called Dick?
We had to.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen.
I got my crabs from Dirty Dicks.
My She Crab soup that is….
And my hushpuppies….
And my Ocean Blue Margarita in a disappointing plastic cup as they had run out of funny bar glasses…. or so we thought.
I’m not a Bloody Mary fan…. but that looks like a meal in itself.
The husband had mussels and lamented over not getting a glass for his collection.
(Oh, did I tell you? Along with all the other ridiculous pieces of crap things he collects… he has now decided to acquire a glass from every fun bar or restaurant we visit.)
Did this place qualify as fun?
I don’t know….
But with fried potato salad on the menu it definitely qualified as southern.
Finished eating, the husband asked the waitress to rinse out the plastic cups so he could bring them home to our friend as a joke…. which is when she pointed to us to their entire store of Dirty Dick merchandise.
We should have known.
But it was too good to pass up and we bought him a hat, a t shirt and a bumper sticker for Christmas.
Our 5th day had us meeting the ex wife of an old Marine Corps buddy. There’s a long sordid story that goes along with this statement, but suffice it to say you never really know anyone. Honestly, you don’t.
The man we’d been friends with for over 35 years? The one we thought was honest, trustworthy and stable? Is now on his third wife, estranged from his children, drowning in debt, filing bankruptcy for the second time (while working as an accountant for the Federal Government) and being sued by his own lawyer for fraud. Did I mention he lies like a rug and told wife #2 that wife #1 accused him of having an affair with me?
I mean come on.
I know I like to drink…. but I think I would have remembered that!!
Needless to say it was a verrrrry long lunch.
But I’d never been to Virginia Beach before so we took a little scenic drive before heading to the restaurant.
My first impression?
Busy and crowded.
With the typical big city high rise hotels lining the road near the ocean.
Complete with all that ticky tacky crap I hate, designed to suck your wallet dry.
In other words, it’s similar to Atlantic City, Myrtle Beach and numerous other places we’ve visited along the Florida coast.
No thanks. You’ve seen one you’ve seen ’em all.
Even this gang of tropical fish escaping the surf and heading for the highway didn’t make it more appealing.
We drove down a few side streets to check out the houses near the shore…
Which was nerve wracking in that behemoth of a vehicle the husband had rented.
Seriously, it took up the entire street.
We found a few pretty spots, but overall? Being jammed right up next to your neighbor is not where I want to live…. waterfront or not.
So, lunch.
Was at a place called Rockafeller’s right on the water.
We got there early.
Okay, really early.
But at least we didn’t have to wait for a table with a view.
I have to admit I got a kick out of the illustrated cocktail menu.
I’m guessing this is for when you’ve had too many and can no longer enunciate properly.
If you can smile and point?
You’re not too drunk to serve.
This is the Mojito, which shouldn’t have been yellow but was tasty all the same.
One drink in, we spotted some fishermen bringing in their catch.
It doesn’t get much fresher than that.
Two drinks in, our friend arrived and we talked, and talked, and talked.
Or rather, she talked and we did a lot of listening.
And drinking.
Did I mention there were multiple pages of cocktail lists?
Maybe Virginia Beach isn’t so bad after all.
3 hours in we figured we’d better eat.
Crab and shrimp hushpuppies sounded like a good way to start…
They were huge, not at all like hush puppies and absolutely horrible.
Flavorless wads of fried dough. If there was shrimp or crab? I never found it. The husband had an equally bad platter of steamed shrimp. Which is hard to screw up, but they did, so I went the safe route…
And ordered a chicken Caesar salad…. which turned out to be practically chickenless.
I imagine even the mosiac Santa dolphin out front would have tasted better. But it was a good time and nice to see our friend.
So we left Virginia Beach…
And headed back to Williamsburg…
Wondering who Willoughby was and why he was spitting.
First stop? A decent place for dinner.
And proof that you can’t judge a book by it’s cover.
Tucked in the back of a very ordinary looking strip mall was a wonderful little Italian place…. that I can’t remember the name of to save my life.
But the garlic knots were to die for… light as air.
And my cheese tortellini alfredo with chicken, broccoli and sun dried tomatoes?
Ooh la la! So rich I had to take half back to the resort.
(I hope this quiets you food screamers. Two meals in one post. Now hush!)
There aren’t too many timeshare resorts that have a Manor House…
But ours did.
And for guests….
The doors were wide open.
So before even finding our condo, we explored.
She was a charming old girl.
And fully decked out for Christmas.
Yes, there was even some funky chicken portraiture.
Ya gotta love that.
Traditional Williamsburg colors took center stage.
And board games were set up on various tables.
It really was quite lovely.
And I certainly wouldn’t mind having a meal or two here.
But we were burning daylight…
So, needing liquid refreshment….
We left the Manor House and were pleased to find a restaurant/bar on the property.
Not all resorts have this, so it was a plus.
The friendly bartender introduced the husband to a local beer, and we ordered some appetizers to test the menu.
French Onion Soup for the other half…. which was absolutely horrendous. Croutons instead of French Bread, over salted broth and a glob of gelatinous cheese.
Blech.
My margarita was made with cheap mix and even cheaper tequila…. and the cheesy crab dip? Tasteless, as well as crabless. I couldn’t find a single piece.
Needless to say we passed on ordering dinner there. (Sorry Martin, that’s all the food pics you’ll get today.)
But ya know what?
The resort was beautiful.
They had a Manor House…..
And geese.
I forgave them their bad food.
Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
River's world..... 