To continue the thought: I like stepping off a chug-chug, windows-down historic train, on a dusty summer afternoon, into the dim lobby of a Tudor building that is -- surprise surprise -- not far from a bevy of Southern California citrus groves.
The Cotswolds served with an orange twist.
I like Glen Tavern Inn in Santa Paula. And don't even START me on the lobby bathroom. Swank. The paper towels. I'd take the train back just to lather up again.
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