My home away from home

I stayed in one of the rooms in the Chiswell-Bucktrout House. Upstairs, far right. It was charming! And much quieter than I thought it would be. After all, at least three of the nine rooms had tenants. We each had our own bathroom and our own TV, so I expected to hear my neighbors. Except for the whirr someone's hairdryer while I was on our shared staircase, I didn't hear a thing.

There were things about staying in a Colonial House that remind you that you're roughing it a bit, at least compared to the luxe accommodations at the Williamsburg Inn. It was rather dark in the shower, but that's because indoor plumbing was placed where a walk-in closest once was and the shape of the room made illuminating both the area over the sink and in the tub difficult. The dramatic pitch of the roof made me knock my head a couple of times. But for me, this all reinforced the atmosphere.

I did have to call the front desk once about the thermostat. First we couldn't get the ac to work in my room (it was in the mid 70s during the day on Monday and Tuesday so the room got warm), then we couldn't regulate it when the mercury outside dropped into the 40ºs overnight on Wednesday. You might assume this was because the building is so old, but that wasn't it. It was a brand-new Trane thermostat -- just installed -- and no one in maintenance had yet been shown how to use it! Oh well, it was nothing that couldn't be remedied by either opening the window or adding a blanket, as the case may be. You know, old school.