Our last stop before home--Natural Bridge, VA--beloved by Thomas Jefferson, allegedly autographed by George Washington, now relegated to Christian retreat and tourist trap Purgatory. You see: the Bridge (Highway 11--two lanes-- runs over the top of it, to give you some idea of the really impressive scale), Drew and me: the requisite "we wuz here" shot, and Geo. Washington's supposed initials--about twelve feet up the bridge wall and water running beneath it--you rock, George! Also our luxe room at the Natural Bridge Hotel--here we had the nicest room and the most overpriced (for the quality) food. And the least competent bar staff. And appealingly idiosyncratic waitstaff--our waitress a little Granny Clampett of a woman with mingy red yarn bows in her hair. In addition to the Bridge and the almost-as-big-as-the-bridge Gift Shop, there is a museum, a house of horrors, a WAX museum, for goodness sake--and miniature golf, among other delights. All for a price, of course.
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