Mountain View - Rengstorff House

Rengstorff house at sundown

We are continuing to explore the endless suburbs of Silicon Valley.  This past weekend we went in search of water views, specifically the San Francisco Bay, and happened upon a tour of the Rensgtorff house. Henry Rengstorff was a German immigrant to San Francisco who realized he could make more money farming and shipping goods than panning for gold.  After building up his fortune, he built a grand house for his wife and six children around 1867 in Mountain View.  After being abandoned (and vandalized) for many years, it was finally restored to its original Italianate Victorian splendor. Now it's primarily used as a wedding venue.  And upstairs, there are offices for park and recreation employees (lucky them). 

Our sprightly nonagenerian in the Rengstorff game room.

I was too shy to ask our docent how old he was, but I guesstimated him to be a spry 90 year old. (He let drop that he was in a skiing competition about 8 years ago, for those in their 80s.)   A retired accountant, he whisked us through the house in period costume, telling us about the first Rengstorff, and then his musical descendants, including jazz legend Dave Brubeck.  In the music room we heard music played on one of the first phonographs, an original Edison. 

Tours occur several times a week and are free. 

Silicon Valley - The Purple Sink

Steven stares in disbelief at the purple sink 

The good news is that Steven has a great new job as Medical Director for a biotech firm, smack dab in downtown Palo Alto. He starts November 4th.  And my firm is also located in Palo Alto, just two miles from his employer.  So we are now moving to Northern California (with frequent visits back to San Diego).  We'll keep our house in San Diego and rent in Silicon Valley.

Now comes the hard work of moving.

As I write this, we have just returned from Silicon Valley, land of Google and Apple and Facebook and even NASA. Land of 980 sq. foot homes with one bathroom selling for $2 million!  Steven and I crisscrossed Redwood City, Atherton, Mountain View, Menlo Park, Palo Alto, and Los Altos to view a dozen rental properties.  We also learned that one community flows into the next and sometimes you only  know you’ve crossed over the line by the color of the street signs. It's a long stretch of leafy suburbia with not a skyscraper in sight.  The big landmark is Stanford with its bell tower. 

The last home we viewed contained the purple sink.  Lest you doubt me, see photo above.  Note how the purple sink nicely clashes with the countertop.  I say, if you’re going to go rogue, go all the way.  This house was a little too much for us.  Too big, too purple.  But we do have three applications in and are on waiting to hear which house we'll rent exactly where.  

More details as I have them. 

NYC - Tribeca

Square Diner at the corner of Leonard and W. Broadway, Tribeca 

If it just feels like I was in New York, that's because I was.  But now I'm back for a conference and work, and in a neighborhood that is new to me.  That would be Tribeca, or "the triangle beneath Canal Street."  This a sweet neighborhood with few skyscrapers and a friendly vibe.

Cornell has come from upstate to downstate. 

It also contains the Cornell medical school (no campus with a lawn, just a building), and

There is a reason people take a picture of this fire station.

the fire station used in Ghostbusters, and my new favorite skyscraper in Manhattan, the "Jenga" building.

Not really the "Jenga" building, but that's what everyone calls it. 

I first spied this building when on the 100th floor of the Freedom Tower and immediately fell for it.  It is just the right amount of quirky and fun.  So I was quite delighted to learn it was up the street from my hotel.  But what I didn't know is that it is conjoined with my conference venue, New York Law School (founded 1891, and not be confused with NYU law school.)  I ate my dinner across from both, at the Square Diner, that is a decidedly rectangular, that has been serving Tribeca for "more than a hundred years."  I had the veggie pot pie while I watched Tribececkers  stroll by. 

Another Tribeca scene, complete with NYPD "smart car." 

Cornell - Touchdown

Samuel makes friends with Touchdown, the original Cornell mascot 

Today we moved Samuel into his dorm at Cornell, along with hundreds of other transfer students. I'm pleased to report he has a view of Lake Cayuga from his room on West Campus.  I'm also pleased to report we have almost perfected move-in, with two suitcases, one box shipped from UPS, and a trip to the local Walmart. 

After convocation, when University President Martha Pollock encouraged students to take off their headphones and look around, we did just that.  We wondered around campus, and found a new friend. Before folks realized it might not be a good idea to keep a live bear as a mascot, Cornell had four real bears as mascots from 1916 to 1939.  They were all called Touchdown and came out for all the football games. I should also note that Cornell last won a football championship in 1939, the last year they had a live bear cub mascot.  Coincidence?  I think not. 

NYC: Brooklyn Bridge

Pausing for the view on Brooklyn Bridge 

Brooklyn Bridge is the poor man's vista of New York City.  You are completely free to walk the length of this bridge, which is about the length of some of the skyscrapers in this city.  You will share the bridge with hundreds of tourists and brave cyclists, plus the usual vendors at the wider points.  You will be hot and sweaty if you traverse in August, despite the breeze.  But you'll see the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, and the impressive sweep of downtown.  Plus you get to admire the fabulous architectural details of the bridge.  Spoiler alert: barriers have been erected to prevent you from climbing the cables, should you be so foolhardy.

We came to the Brooklyn Bridge circuitously, having spent the morning in Queens at the Museum of the Moving Image.  Our Frommer's guide said this museum was on overlooked gem.  It's housed in an old movie studio and now tells the history of cinema.  You can enjoy flicks from the 1890s,  (think cats boxing for 5 seconds), and see Jim Henson's puppets and Freddy Krueger's sweater, and the masks Orson Welles wore.  Fun stuff like that.   

NYC: The Met Cloisters

Betsy in the Bonnefont Cloister,
a garden with 250 species cultivated in the Middle Ages.

It's not well advertised, but a single ticket to the Met is not just to the famous huge Metropolitan Museum on 5th Avenue, but also to The Met Cloisters and The Met  Breuer.  The trick is you need to see everything in three days.  So we went to the famous Met on Friday, and the less well known but more delightful Cloisters on Saturday.

Steven ambling toward The Cloisters, Fort Tryon Park

The Met Cloisters is way uptown, near 190th, practically off the island.  It is surrounded by Fort Tryon Park, 60+acres of woods and trails overlooking the Hudson River. The land was owned by John D. Rockefeller, Jr., who not coincidentally, also is responsible for The Cloisters.  You are still on Manhattan Island, but you feel very removed from the hustle and bustle. In fact, Rockefeller purchased land across the Hudson to preserve the wilderness and the illusion you had not left the 15th Century.

The main cloister, Cuxa Cloister, in full bloom, with butterflies everywhere.

A cloister is a covered walkway surrounding a courtyard, typically placed within a convent or monastery.  The Met Cloisters are a beautiful hodgepodge of four cloisters, surrounded by chapels, halls and galleries, that ultimately form a cohesive medieval monastery. A third of the architectural elements come from medieval French buildings salvaged by an American sculptor, George Grey Barnard.

Unicorn Tapestries, ca. 1495-1505 

The collection inside includes several tapestries, the most famous being the Unicorn Tapestries, which are placed in their own room.  After seeing so many religious paintings and altarpieces, it is a welcome change to see a subject based on a fantastical creature.  I'm sorry to say it does not end well for the unicorn.

Unicorn Tapestries, ca 1495-1505

NYC: The Met Fifth Avenue

The Met on Fifth, just following an August rainstorm 

The Met Fifth Avenue is ginormous, spanning five blocks.  There are not so much halls here (though they exist), as room after room after room after room of art. There are about 250 rooms in fact. I was getting dizzy trying to orient myself.  We had to stop and come up for air (and overpriced coffee) at the Petrie Court Cafe.  It has a view of Central Park, which always calms the nerves. 

The Met's first Monet painting, Fruit Trees in Bloom, 1873.
My favorite Impressionist painting. 

You can see everything in a day, but go on a Friday or Saturday, because you'll have until 9 p.m. to do it.  I selected Friday with the grand plan that we'd go up to the Roof Garden Bar and watch the sun set over Central Park, drink in hand.  But another thunderstorm rolled in, nixing that plan.  So we improvised, viewing the Impressionists, then the single Leonardo de Vinci painting (on loan from the Vatican), then Egyptian Art.  In between we saw a spattering of Medieval Art, American Art, and some modern and contemporary art. 

Temple of Dendur, circa 15 BC

The American Art wing took us to the back of the Egyptian Art wing, which itself is the size of a good museum.  In fact, I was convinced we'd never find the exit.  We started with the Temple of Dendur, a pretty iconic setting with floor to ceiling windows on one side and a pond on the other. In the middle is the temple, slated to be submerged by the Aswan Dam before being rescued and moved to the Met in the 1960s.  Besides the fading heiroglyphs is 19th century graffiti.  I didn't have to look hard for it.

Grafitti, 1819, Temple of Dendur.

For about $50K or so, you can also rent the space for weddings and such.  Then it becomes a rocking relic from 15 BC.

Partying at the Temple of Dendur

We missed the party, but saw a treasure trove of all things Egyptian, much of collected by Carter and Carnavale, the team that discovered King Tut's tomb.  I was impressed with the variety. I always thought Egyptian art followed rigid rules of proportion and style.  But over a couple thousands of years, there can be a lot of variation. The face decorating one sarcophagus was even smiling. And we forget everything was originally painted.  A few objects still provide us with a sense of the original, like the woman below. 

A woman said to be from Thebes, ca. 1504-1425 B.C. 

 Our hopes dashed for a cocktail on the roof deck, we decided to take in one more exhibit, the "Camp" exhibit, which the Wall Street Journal called an "over-the-rainbow extravaganza."  The locals seemed to come out in force for this exhibit. Susan Sontag wrote about "camp" on an intellectual basis, but I just took in the visual fireworks. And it's not camping in the woods.  Example below.

Campy shoes. 

NYC - Circle Line

America's Favorite Boat Ride, or so I've been told. 

We went where all good NYC tourists go - on the Circle Line boat cruise.  We did this in part because the humidity had skyrocketed.  Nothing like the breeze of the Hudson and East Rivers to cool you down, we thought.  What we did not expect was a thunderstorm as we exited the port.  We had wisely decided to stay inside for the AC, so we were covered.

Hudson Yards with "The Vessel," which looks like a copper honeycomb.
Look carefully and you'll see the Empire State Building in the distance.

Here are a few things I learned about New York while cruising with Circle Line:
1. The Statue of Liberty made it through Hurricane Sandy without damage.  Liberty Island not so much.
2. You can now climb to the Statue of Liberty torch again.  Make reservations four months in advance.
3. Construction on Hudson Yards is booming, and now includes "The Vessel,"  a 16-story copper honeycomb with interlocking staircases.
4. Lightning hits the Empire State Building a lot.  (Just as our tour guide said this, that is just what happened.)

The "Jenga" building in the forefront.

The other tidbit I learned is the nickname of a building that caught my eye while at the One World Observatory.  Known as the "Jenga" building for its stacked architecture, it's the largest structure in the Tribeca neighborhood.  For $3.5 million, you can get a 1400 square foot home near the bottom; for $47 million, a penthouse.  More information here.

She looks good, even in a summer thunderstorm.

NYC: New York Public Library

We had pizza by the lions.  

My Frommer's guidebook lists the New York Public Library as a must see in Manhattan.  Since it's conveniently across from our hotel, we've been three times.  The first was at night after closing time.  We brought our pizza to the court yard, all warmly lit up, the famous lions Fortitude and Patience  standing guard. 

One of two immense study rooms.  (The serious scholars are on the other side.)
Photography only permitted from the alcove at the end!

The second day we went inside, tiptoed around the reading rooms, viewed old portraits of the Lennox family (patrons of the library), marveled at the old encyclopedias in every language, snuck past the map room and geneology room, peaked in the library shop, and were otherwise agog and amazed at this beautiful old building. 

Detail of the ceiling.  Extraordinary.

The third time, I snuck back in during a summer thunderstorm.  I wanted another look at the gift shop, I confess, but I also viewed the Walt Whitman exhibit, which includes letters to his mother, notes on his visits to Union soldiers during the Civil War, and even a lock of his hair.  The library has many important manuscripts, letters, and rough drafts of famous authors. 

NYC: Tootsie and Yiddler

Betsy post-show, newly energized by Broadway.

Broadway is very environmentally friendly.  They recycle a lot.  We have now seen two revivals and my verdict is -- well done.  On Tuesday we stood in line at the Tckts booth at Lincoln Center debating on our half price ticket choice.  We decided on the comedy musical Tootsie, a revival of the Dustin Hoffman hit movie of 1982 (the year I graduated from high school).  I recall the movie, but not too well.  Perfect, I thought.  Just enough memory of the story line not to interfere with expectations for the musical.

I'm not giving away any spoilers here to say that the plotline revolves around an unemployable cisgender* male actor, Michael Dorsey, who decides to dress up as woman to win the part as Juliet's nurse in a misguided adaptation of Romeo and Juliet.  Of course he falls in love with the actress playing Juliet  and everything gets hilariously muddled (that's not a spoiler, is it?).  The lead actor, Santino Fontana, looks far better in a dress than Dustin Hoffman ever did.  He can also sing in a higher register quite believably (really, amazing).  His Juliet is African American (interracial romance!) and his roommate and ex-girlfriend are given hysterically funny lines.  The best song in the play, IMHO, is "Jeff sums it up" when Michael's roommate tells him how Michael has f'd it up, sung to a lighthearted ditty with beer in hand. Picture of said roommate is below. 

Deadpan delivery.  Michael Dorsey's roommate Jeff tells it like it is.

The next revival we saw was the "perfect" (I quote director Joel Gray), Fiddler on the Roof, but in Yiddish.  Yes, a cast of dozens, most only armed with "kitchen Yiddish" learned the entire musical in the guttural mamaloshein of shetsel Yiddish.  It really was terrific.  I have only seen Fiddler, oh, about a bjillion times.  Like the original Star Wars, you wish you could experience Fiddler as if you had never seen it before.  But Fiddler in Yiddish (aka Yiddler) almost gets you there.  And it was as moving and bittersweet and affecting as you can possibly get for a musical that everyone has memorized.  Alas, the theater, just off Broadway, was not full.  Hurry, you've got until September 1, 2019, to see it and fill up that theater.
 

Yiddler at Stage 42, for a few more weeks.

 *I didn't know that term cisgender for the first forty years of my life.  See how times have changed?

NYC: The Frick Collection

Steven relaxes in the interior garden of the Frick

After an excellent Thai lunch with my colleagues from our New York office (now located in Hell's Kitchen), we ambled through Central Park on our way to tony 5th Avenue, and what my guidebook says is "arguably the best small museum in the nation." This would be the Frick Collection, the home and art collection of Henry Clay Frick.  Frick made his fortune in coke (not the drink or drug, but the key ingredient in steel.) Frick forcibly quelled mining riots in his home town of Pittsburgh, making him quite unpopular.  So he moved to New York, where he promptly bought up a huge piece of property in the best part of town and erected his mansion.

Enemies across the fireplace. 
Sir Thomas More on the left; Thomas Cromwell on the right.

His mansion was designed around his art, which is an astonishing mix of old masterpieces from El Greco, Rembrandt, Bellini, Bronzino, Titian, Vermeer, Van Dyck, Manet, and Hans Holbein, to name a few. They were all pretty compelling - the Rembrandt self portrait, Bellini's St. Francis in the Desert, the Whistler portraits. But I was quite taken with Hans Holbein's portraits of Sir Thomas More and Thomas Cromwell. Cromwell was instrumental in More's execution, when he refused to declare the king the head of the Church of England.  (Cromwell had his comeuppance several years later, when he was also executed.) But now they are paired across a fireplace, sworn enemies not quite directly staring at each other. 

"Elective Affinities" art installation in front of Ingres' 1845 masterpiece. 

Also scattered about were glass cases filled with porcelain tubes and metal bookmarks. Steven thought they were an art installation.  I thought they had just taken some priceless limoge vases off of display and left the stands.  Well, it turns out Steven was right. It was some modern "art" to mix up the masterpieces, and it was called "Elective Affinities." I guess it highlights the sophistication of the permanent pieces. 

NYC: 9/11 Museum

The last steel column removed from the remains of the Twin Towers

After the high of the One World Observatory, we hit the low of 9/11.  Not only do the 9/11 memorial fountains sink into the earth, the 9/11 museum feels submerged as well.  When you enter, you see the remaining slurry walls of the foundation of the Twin Towers, meant to keep out the Hudson River, as well as the remains of the pylons of the foundation.  After a memorial hall, where you view a wall of faces of the nearly 3,000 people killed by Al Qaeda terrorists, you enter a revolving door into the main exhibit, which takes you minute by minute through the terrorist attacks.

Fire truck crushed by falling debris 

For me, this was a very personal journey.  I experienced 9/11 from the safety of the West Coast.  But I remember vividly taking the kids to the bus stop that morning, blissfully unaware, and finding my neighbor Peggy in near hysteria.  She had turned on the news.  I got my kindergartner on the bus, then rushed the toddler back home and turned on the TV.   It was incomprehensible.

The 9/11 memorial and museum preserves the testimony and artifacts of that day in minute detail.  The most poignant are the phone calls made by victims who weren't aware of their fate, and the loved ones who tried to reach them.

We are not quite twenty years out from September 11, 2001.  Eventually, no one will remember it first hand.  So this museum will have to convey the incredulity and destruction of that day independently.  I think they have achieved that goal.

NYC: One World Observatory

100 stories up, and a view of the Statue of Liberty

After some Nespresso and a hibiscus croissant (yes, it was good), we journeyed downtown to the tallest building in the Western hemisphere.  That would be One World Trade Center, which is a patriotic 1776 feet high.*

To see the view is pricey ($35 and up), but the 47 second elevator ride to the 102nd floor is a trip in more ways than one, and the view is indeed spectacular.  The observatory has probably wisely elected not to provide a glass elevator.  That would have caused some unpleasant vertigo.  Instead on the way up you enter an elevator with floor to ceiling video screens that race you through the history of New York in less than a minute.  The twin towers appear and then disappear, and then you arrive at the top. 

For an upcharge, you can rent a computer tablet that identifies all the major buildings and sites as you walk around in a full circle, peering through the floor to ceiling windows. This is helpful for those non-New Yorkers like myself.  And being downtown, you also have views of the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, and the outer boroughs.  So, was it worth the cost?  Yes. 

*As we approached Manhattan from JFK Airport in our NYC taxi, we noticed skinny skyscrapers that seemed taller than anything else in the landscape.  Also known as pencil skyscrapers or slender skyscrapers, they are home to ultra expensive homes. They are almost as tall as OWT, but not quite.

NYC: Bryant Park

Steven strolls through Bryant Park in the heart of Midtown

In keeping with our tendency to visit hot places in the hottest part of summer, we are now in the heart and heat of NYC.  We are lucky today, it's only in the mid-80s. We are in Midtown Midtown, within quick walking distance from bustling Broadway and Times Square, but across the street from our hotel is the refreshing, and relatively quiet Bryant Park.  Backing up to the New York Public Library, Bryant Park is a six acre oasis and feels far from the frenzied crowds of Times Square (so thick are the crowds there, that a street sign says "Pedestrian Flow Zone; Keep Moving"). 

The Porch in Bryan Park. Sitting on a swing is optional.

Bryant Park resembles the Tulieres Gardens in Paris, with the exception that you can sit on the grass.  And this August night there was a crowd on the lawn.  Green bistro tables and chairs are scattered throughout the park and everyone is welcome to picnic or take a ride on Le Carousel.  We chose to get a drink at The Porch, where we we were asked if we'd like a swing or a table. 

Steven relaxing at The Porch. 
We opted for the table instead of the swing.

San Diego Automotive Museum

Taking the 1909 International Harvester Model A Auto Wagon for a spin

The San Diego Automotive Museum is now thirty years old.  We took another look while Benjamin was visiting us from Tacoma, taking a break from his LeMay Car Museum internship.  While our car museum is smaller than LeMay's, we do have a few treasures down South, including this 1909 International Harvester wagon.  The wagon came to San Diego via a circuitous route from Massachussetts.  It was driven to the museum a few years back, after being donated.  Most cars are not owned by the museum, but are on loan.  Because this car is owned by the museum they let us sit in it. 

Benjamin, who has driven a Model T at LeMay, reviewed the gears on this baby with one of the museum volunteers.  It was too complicated for me to convey, but here are some other interesting tidbits.  It's price new was  $850. This vehicle was designed for farm work and could be converted into a pickup truck.  You just took out the back seat.  The gas tank is up front, right next to the lanterns and lamps.  One had to be careful when lighting the lamps and lanterns, which used kerosene, right next to that gas tank. And its top speed was 20 mph. 

Colonial Williamsburg - Wigmakers and other artisans

Wigs were big back in 1760.

The delight of Williamsburg is really in the hundreds of employees that come to work every day, don a period costume, and begin working an 18th century trade.  Over two and a half days I have observed wigmaking, silversmithing, printing, and mantau-making.  I have also stepped into an old fashioned apothecary.  Herewith, some artisans hard at work.

Wigmaker. 

Wigs were in fashion before the Revolutionary War.  You could order up a custom wig made of sheep, yak, or human hair.  The human hair came from girls in Eastern Europe who earned money selling their locks.  And while ladies could and did own wigs, they were mostly worn by wealthy men.  They were a status symbol.  And while we think of white wigs as the most common of that era, they were actually more expensive and reserved for formal occasions and portraits.  The most popular wigs were brown, worn over a shaved head.  Our wigmaker assured us colonial wigs were quite comfortable. 

Millinery and mantau-maker. 

 Until Eli Whitney, cotton was too hard to process to make into cloth.  The colonists relied on sheep and flax grown locally.  Our artisans were at the spinning wheel and at the loom when we met them.  The loom could produce an inch of cloth in 3-4 minutes with a skilled weaver.  Lodging in a canopy bed was always more expensive, not because of the extra wood (cheap) but because of the cloth curtains (pricey).

Apothecary.

It's here at the apothecary that Steven learned about the best methods for storing live leeches (keep them in a bowl marked "leeches" and  let them feed on human blood as needed, to keep them alive), and some old remedies still used today (camphor, antacids, licorice, smelling salts).  The smelling salts are ground-up antler horn. Medical instruments, which looked like instruments of torture, were in the back room.

Ghost story teller. 

Okay, this guy is not an artisan.  He's actually a third year student at the nearby College of William and Mary.  His night job is to lead tourists around to dimly lit colonial houses and assure them that the creaks they hear are really the ghosts of previous occupants.  Here he is outside the Bruton Parish Church. 

Colonial Williamsburg - The Lost Art of Drop Spindle Spinning

Betsy tries out drop spindling at the mantua-maker and millinery.  

Cloth was precious back in the 18th century, and there were no shortcuts.  You had to make the thread before you could weave  the cloth.  I had a taste of the process of creating yarn and thread when I visited the local Williamsburg millinery, which uses not only spinning wheels but an apparatus called the "drop spindle" which resemble a wooden spinning top.

Though our instructor assured us that spinning yarn from loose wool would be easy, and colonial lads and lasses learned to drop spindle spin by the age of five, I could only fumble through the steps.  But here are some pointers.  Use washed and carded wool from Leicester Longwool sheep, now only raised in Williamsburg and remote parts of Australia.  (George Washington had an exceptional flock too, at the time.*).  Use your drop spindle to help you twist the loose wool clockwise into a thread.  Then take that same wool thread and twist it again counterclockwise.  Now you have double worsted yarn.  Now you can dye it and work with it. Easier said than done.  I think I'll just buy ready made.

Leicester Longwool look like regular sheep with perms. They are now quite rare.  

* Leicester Longwool sheep (pronounced "lester") were first bred in England in the mid-1700s and were highly valued in America, but the British only sold ewes to the colonists, so they would have to reorder more sheep when the ewes died.  To start his own breeding stock, George Washington asked a British friend to send him only lambs, which were all described as ewes, but who could really tell? In this way, Washington built up his flock. 

Colonial Williamsburg - Taverns and Coffeehouses

Steven is ready to consume tavern grub.
At Chowning's Tavern on Gloucester Street.

Having been to DC on business, we are now taking a break for some living history in Colonial Williamsburg.  This city was at its apex before the Revolutionary War, as the state capitol of Virginia.  Its fortunes declined after the capitol was moved to Richmond, but it persisted as a quiet college town, home of the College of William & Mary (founded 1693), until John D. Rockefeller Jr. began funding the restoration of the town in the 1930's.  Now I hear they get four million visitors a year.

Mr. George Washington takes his coffee at Charlton's Coffeehouse.
Steven and I sat next to him and asked how his trip from Mt. Vernon went.

For a town founded in 1638, I was expecting something primitive.  But Williamsburg was built for the top 5% of society, and it resembles an upscale British village. Wealthy white male landowners came from hundreds of miles away to serve in the House of Burgesses, one of the ruling bodies for the state of Virginia. That included George Washington, who rode his horse hard for two days to reach the capitol.  When he arrived, he liked to have a coffee at R. Charlton's Coffeehouse or  perhaps something stronger at the Raleigh Tavern.  (We know this because we sat at the table with him.  See picture above. He introduced himself as Mr. Washington, and Steven asked if he was *the* George Washington.  He told us it wasn't the custom to ask strangers' their first name, but conceded that he was indeed that Mr. Washington.)

Our colonial guide shows off his collection of pipes
in the front meeting room of Raleigh Tavern.

Close up of the expensive wallpaper.

In our first day and a half in Williamsburg, we ate at the Chowning's Tavern and visited the Raleigh Tavern, the R. Charlton's Coffeehouse, and Wetherburn's Tavern.  All had to offer the public traveler food, lodging, and drinks at state mandated fees (7 pence for a sleeping space), but then offered private meeting spaces and ballrooms to wealthy patrons for an upcharge. Anyone that was anybody came to these taverns to see and be seen. 

The big meeting room at Raleigh Tavern that
held the first Virginia Continental Congress in May 1776.