Day 3: Pancake Houses and Time Travel--Williamsburg Style

Pic 1: Ye Olde Pepsi Machine--I wasn't aware such things existed in the 18th century....
Pic 2: Libby helping the colonial cause by stomping clay at the brickyard
Pic 3: Steve in the Stocks
Pic 4: This is for you Derek. This picture cost me $72 admission!





Greetings good sirs and ladies,

May I begin the evening by asking, as I sit in my camp chair, in front of my tent at Camp Hatteras in Rodanthe, North Carolina, in the heart of the Outer Banks (or OBX if you're cool): is it really 'camping' if you can be blogging on your computer? Well, it is completely dark, and the girls in the site next to us are roasting marshmallows over a fire, so I suppose I must be camping.

We started the day out in Williamsburg at the "charming" Super 8, and had our pick of no fewer than 15 local "pancake" houses to choose from for breakfast. We chose the Capitol pancake house simply because of proximity, and, once inside, we knew we were truly in the South. Maybe it was the mullets, maybe the fanny packs, maybe the votive candles with names on them for sale, maybe the pitchers of mountain dew at the table behind us, or the Nascar shirts....I am not sure what exactly tipped us off. Steve opted for blueberry, me for banana, and after enjoying our fill we decided to visit actual Colonial Williamsburg, for no other reason than who knows when we will ever be there again. As someone who has chosen history as a profession, you'd think I would have been more into the experience, but truly, the appeal was largely lost on me. You drive into the visitor's center, which looks like any John Hughes movie high school, pay your $36/person admission, hop on a shuttle bus, and are supposedly transported back in time. Actually, you are transported into a zoo of humanity--people from all over the world looking around not quite sure what they have paid to stumble into. Reenactments, restored houses, people in costume, colonial souvenirs....I never didn't feel like I was still in 2007. Some highlights were the cabinet maker's shop, as well as the coopers and the brick yard, where I took off my flip-flops and stomped around in the clay for 10 minutes. Derek requested a picture of Steve in a tricorner hat (see the best of them below), so we tried on a few, watched the fife and drum corps process to the parade ground, and walked back to 2007 via the 1/2 mile path to the visitor's center. I think that it would be nicer in the fall, with fewer people, but I am quite confused how people manage to plan a whole vacation around it. The colonial highway, a veritable smorgasboard of motels and pancake houses, led us to our next stop, Mini-golf USA which boasted itself as one of the 10 best courses in the USA, according to USA Today. Now, I have never set stock in USA Today, a glorified tabloid, but their credibility is now totally shot. It was a decent course, and a very reasonable $6/person, and it did have pin flags, but it was no "10 best." Steve would like you all to know that he won, 45 to 48, but I would like you all to know that I was leading up until the 17th hole.

We then decided to head South to OBX and our camping adventure, so back in the Taurus we were, heading to North Carolina. A mere 150 miles from Williamsburg, it was about a 3.5 hour drive. Once we hit North Carolina, confederate flags were a flyin' and we were inundated with billboards every 10 yards. I saw my first drive-through liquor stores, and lo and behold, we found a "Sonic." Now, anyone on the east coast who watches TV has seen the Sonic commercials, but the elusive drive-ins are nowhere to be seen in the North. We decided we had to give it a try and were not disappointed. I have found the perfect diet coke. Now, for me, a dc connossieur, this is no small feat. Sonic prides itself on being drink specialists, mixmasters, if you will.....Large diet coke, crushed ice, "lime flavor"-four real limes, and a styrofoam cup. Amazing. Steve's cherry limeade was pretty good too. We'll be back. It was still many more miles to Rodanthe and once we hit rt. 12 south, a one lane highway going through the National seashore, we knew we were going someplace cool--20 miles and not a soul or a light in sight, all duned beaches, which I look forward to seeing in the daylight tomorrow.

Well, it's getting late, and I've never camped before, so it's time to go join Steve in the tent and go to sleep to the sound of crashing waves. More tomorrow. Thanks for reading! -Lib