Princeton, New Jersey - The Nassau Inn in Princeton touts itself as a stellar meeting place, where guests can gather 'round the fireplace and, say, catch up over a beer or perhaps forge a new nation.
During its first incarnation as the Sign of the College (1769-1937), the hostelry on Nassau Street hosted such history-shaping rendezvousers as Paul Revere, Thomas Paine, delegates of the First Continental Congress and signers of the Declaration of Independence.
In early March, my ambitions were much lower, as was my profile. My plan was to introduce my head to the hotel bed's pillow and kick back with the Girls on HBO. My Meeting of One was set, barring revolutionary outbreaks.
However, as soon as I entered the inn, which relocated to Palmer Square and changed its name to Nassau Tavern in 1937, I felt the hug of conviviality. I chatted at length with the front desk attendants about such neighbourly topics as weather (snowy, with more on the way) and parking (avoid the street meters; use the nearby lot). The staff allowed me to leave my car out front, under a covered roof, while I ran my bags up to my room. And they smiled encouragingly when I stopped at the refuel station (both ways) for a cup of coffee and a cookie.
The property is built of fieldstone, brick and shingle and retains some of its Colonial-era construction. Inside, the dim lighting, dark decor and low ceilings evoke an old house museum. However, in the second-floor parlour, the licorice-red leather furniture enlivens the setting like a clown's nose while the grand fireplace and Oriental rugs infuse warmth into the stately space. En route to the fitness centre, which is tucked into a forgotten corner, I passed a guest curled up on a couch reading a book. A cocktail rested by her elbow. She didn't even stir when I squeaked by like a mouse in sneakers.
The 188 rooms and suites catch up to contemporary times with high-definition TVs and a palette on the Gap khakis colour spectrum. The bed wasn't overdressed or overstuffed. My queen had six pillows (two were decorative), a creamy coverlet with a waffle texture and a stray strip of fabric used for ... cold ankles.
The room was cozy for sleep but a tight squeeze when I tried to complete two tasks at once, such as eating and watching TV. When I set up my dinner (room service hails from the Yankee Doodle Tap Room downstairs) on the desk that sat directly beneath the wall-fastened set, I had to crane my neck like a turtle to see the screen. I worried that a broccoli floret might get stuck in the bend.
Perhaps this arrangement was intentional — to pry me out of my shell to meet people. If so, it worked.
Later that night, I pitter-pattered downstairs to the Yankee Doodle, off the main lobby. I could hear the tavern before I could see it. Large groups of friends occupied long tables and solid oak booths carved with the initials and graduation dates of past revellers. The beverage-to-food ratio was about six pints to one appetiser. Smaller pods of post-graduate-age people convened by the flame-lickin' fireplace. Sports played on multiple TVs.
Before settling at the bar, I challenged myself to a round of Name That Princeton Alum. Dozens of class photos covered an entire wall like an oversized yearbook. I easily guessed Michelle Obama, Donald Rumsfeld, Brooke Shields and three Supreme Court justices. But I had to glance at the cheat sheet for Avon CEO Andrea Jung, Google exec Eric Schmidt and, to my surprise, James M. Stewart, Class of '32. (I had him pegged as a Hahvahd man.)
Depending on your major in college, the centrepiece of the bar is either its 22 beer taps or its 13-foot-long Norman Rockwell painting. The inn's owner commissioned the artist's largest-ever mural for $2 500 (about R30 000) — in Great Depression dollars. Yankee Doodle features a spirited scene involving a man riding into town on a pony. The artwork also comes with a built-in drinking game. Chug if you can find the Hessian!
The hotel serves complimentary breakfast in the tavern, and the mood the next morning was quiet and calm, like the snow clouds slowly forming outside. The loud voices from the night before had fallen several decibels.
I found a table by the fire and ordered from the menu of standard breakfast dishes. On the hearth, an inscription read, “Rest Traveller, Rest, and Banish Thoughts of Care; Drink to Thy Friends and Recommend Them Here.”
Words to relax by.
IF YOU GO:
Nassau Inn
10 Palmer Square, Princeton, N.J.
609-921-7500
www.nassauinn.com
From $259
Washington Post