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On the way down to Richmond, we stopped at a little town called Colonial Beach, on the Potomac River. We had the idea that it could possibly be a place to take a vacation. Joe could bring Windspirit and sail on the Potomac.
It was a nice enough little burg, if on the sleepy side. But, then again, it was the end of November in a summer place.
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We had a surprisingly good lunch at Fat Freda's Restaurant "where the locals eat," according to Peggy, the very helpful proprietress of the Chamber of Commerce office. It was a folksy kind of place, a lunch or supper spot, with a full page of sandwiches and three or four kinds of soup to choose from.
We split a roast beef on ciabatta and had some rather spicy tomato soup and "sweet tea."
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For a little bitty town, it seemed a bit overchurched, especially in the Baptist division. There were at least six of those, two Episcopalian (of which this is one), a Methodist, and a kind of run down Roman Catholic. This church seemed to be a happening sort of place with an adjacent thrift shop and a rector with a last name that looked a bit like an eye chart.
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Interestingly, Colonial Beach was a self-proclaimed "golf cart community" and here and there we saw someone driving rather crazily in one of them. There were at least three places to buy a golf cart. It didn't appear that seatbelts were required in them, either!
The architecture was varied -- this motel caught my eye, though the reviews on one of the travel sites were just dreadful!
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In addition to the picturesque motel, there were a couple of bed and breakfasts in town. This one was pretty close to the river and had a tiny gourmet take-out place on the back side.
We had a pleasant time on this little visit, but probably won't be returning any time soon.
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About an hour and a quarter later, we'd arrived at Tom and Anastasia's, where they had the most wonderful centerpiece on the table!
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