Colonial Williamsburg in the Historic Triangle of Virginia is a little time machine nestled in a college town. There, visitors are greeted with a tip of the hat or a curtsy and kind words. It's a place where gentlemen say things like "You're a beautiful young woman, and I don't know you, but I have to fix you," and then proceed to pluck out the twirly seed pods and other tag-a-longs from your curly locks... or maybe that just happened to me?
Quaint little shops line the rock-paved and dirt streets selling replica tchotchkes, stationary, and nonfiction selections. Kids, clad in rented period costumes frolic here and there playing games, admiring the gorgeous horses, and finding themselves immersed in innocent mischief.
And they get a "living history" lesson from the townsfolk, some who offer gifts (cotton tuffs, discarded wood that might have been a shingle) and a story to any who'll linger for a listen.
If it weren't for the walking (and the forgotten stroller/heavy camera bag effect), we'd have used the entire two days of our tickets exploring the lush gardens, the elegant palace and governor's houses, and the old time restaurants. But after several hours walking - some of which were spent lugging a slumbering 2.5 year-old - our trio called it quits. As Chi said in exasperation, "I'm done with history, Mom."
Inquiring about the quickest direct route to the Visitor's Center, we were informed of the free shuttle that transports guests between major attractions. Good to know... And then, I lost the car and we walked a bit more in an exhausting, frenzied search for our personal freedom train.