Charlottesville, Virginia

After lunch, four or five hours of almost non-stop driving. Passing through backcountry roads and over rolling hills, I almost became accustomed to the tobacco fields, heavy trees, and small farming communities (many of which seem to prefer the confederate flag) flying by. It is beautiful country and somewhat similar to the small road driving we did in parts of the Midwest.

We arrived in Charlottesville about 7 or so, pretty tired and definitely not in the mood to be lost or frustrated by one way streets and suggested routes blocked off on account of a street fair/concert in the park. Tempers ran a bit hotter than they normally would, probably on account of the heat and the heavy Last Day of the Trip Blues. Anthony Bourdain’s latest book of self-serious, narcissistic rants, “Medium Raw,” may also shoulder some of the blame. Either way, we finally found our hotel, a smart modern joint, right in the middle of all the action. We unpacked (for the last time?), got settled, and shared a bottle of Bud. LVL worked away on pictures and other blog-related tasks while I stared at the wall/wrote a little.

Has anyone ever had a hotel room immediately across (within 5 feet or so) from the ice maker? It’s not all that cool. It is, however, a great thing to bitch and moan about when you’re feeling sorry for yourself and generally irritable.

Dinner of burgers (both real and faux), fries, and beers at West Main, about a 10 min walk from our hotel. The food was decent, the beers (several different regional micros) were cold, and the company was perfect. We sat in a tall wooden booth, laughing about shit we’ve done and said over the last 75 days, at having to get back to it all in less than 24 hours, and, mostly, at ourselves. At one point we high-fived so loud I think we scared the other two tables in our vicinity. Couldn’t think of a better way to spend our last dinner on the road. Can’t think of a better example of what I’m looking forward to over the next 80 or 100 years.

LVL up with a shot, motivated to get as far along with the blog as she can before getting back to DC. I chose to linger in bed, perhaps aided by the room’s black-out curtains and the knowledge that getting up means setting in motion a series of steps that inevitably result in our return to doldrums of DC. My dad is right: it is pretty terrible when “the inevitable becomes inevitable.”

Anyway, we packed up, loaded the car and took the pedestrian mall for some brunch food. The mall is reminiscent of a scrubbed version of Boulder’s Pearl Street Mall. Bigger, probably better stores and restaurants, but nowhere near the character or charm. After 15-20 mins of strolling, we settled on The Nook and took a cramped seat** on their enclosed set of tables and chairs, despite being completely ignored by several staff members. “Are we f*cking invisible?,” wondered LVL. Maybe.

Our robotic, vaguely creepy waitress rocked a spiky blond mohawk while dishing out forced smiles, disingenuous “greeeeaaaats,” and inattentive service. My eggs and “cheesy potatoes” were pretty good and very heavy; LVL’s Veggie Lovers wrap was “good,” despite being too oily. Despite the semi-crazy environs, the meal was really enjoyable. The weather was perfect and the people watching/eves dropping were great. Not quite as diverse a population as I expected, though. Youngish white people, many of whom fit the preppy, conservative stereotype I have of the southern*** middle class.

After breaky we drove around town, checking out the campus and other close-by attractions. The town itself is really cute, with tons of shops, restaurants, and so on. A slightly bigger, probably nicer version of a typical college town. I think we were most taken with the “V” logo painted on all the streets surrounding the campus.

** We were wedged between a young couple feeding their baby and their shaved golden retriever and a sullen college-aged woman and her older, Spanglish-speaking mom. Elbows almost touching, conversation impossible to keep private.

*** Though only 2.5 hours from DC, Charlottesville presents itself as a southern city. Though not quite as many “y’alls” as in some other places we’ve been, the accents and demeanor resemble Huntsville, AL more than they do Hannover, NH or Harrisburg, PA.