DC

It was a busy past two-days-and-a-half in the capital of the world. The day before yesterday, we set out to walk around NW a bit, counting flags. There are a LOT of flags in this place. I think she gave up when she got to about a million, and/or when the humidity melted her.

We walked past a few international organisations on our way to the White House, where I was accosted by some 'journalist' doing vox pops interviews about what people thought of the current President. I politely told him that I couldn't vote in this election (as soon as you tell them you're not American, they lose interest immediately) and he more or less left me alone, but I regret not telling him what I *really* think, from the perspective of an outsider. Not that it would have mattered, mind you.

We arrived at the Washington Monument which we guessed had 50 flags around it. Cathy lay down under a tree while I circumnavigated the base. We then ended up walking around the monuments to various Presidents - Lincoln, Jefferson, and FDR, all of which have spectacular views of the capital, though the reflective pool which collects Lincoln to the Monument was unfortunately on hiatus for retooling. I am assuming the draining of the pool was recent; surely it would have been there earlier this month.

The weather was hot. We refreshed at the refreshment stand adjacent to Jefferson - lemon sorbets all round and a tall glass of lemonade, in the shade - before venturing forth. The Jefferson monument contains a grab-bag of some of his most famous utterances, one of which is (in my humble opinion) completely and unarguably correct, but the country seems to have veered off in an entirely other direction nonetheless. I don't understand - this man and his life are revered, but his words (unless repackaged into a form of mythological jingoism) go unheeded. I bought a copy of The Federalist from the bookshop in the monument, which seemed a very appropriate place to buy it, but I'm now struck by the fact I own a copy of this tome but not a copy of Quick and Garran. To be rectified when we get home.

A random observation. Washingtonians are very helpful when you ask questions, but talk to you as if you're an idiot. Or, they avoid your gaze, as if to say “I realise I’m socially obliged to help you with a brief answer, but really you’re a bit of a minor annoyance to me, so I’ll be quick, then you can be out of my way”. How did I miss that before?

After Jefferson, we walked back towards the National Mall and Cathy took me to the Freer and Sackler galleries of Asian art. Some really gorgeous pieces. I can see why she likes it. I was hoping to get a satchel to match hers but they didn't have any. Boo-urns.

Afterward, I caught up with an international work colleague for a meal. I can normally handle hot Thai food but this was blistering. Two and a half hours flew by very quickly. Had a great time. More international work colleagues to come.

Yesterday morning, we went to the Newseam which is all about the American media. Parts of it were very interesting (especially the bits about US Presidential TV advertising), but it was all wrapped up in First Amendment glory which I struggled with. The central theme is that a free press is a bulwark of democracy, which is true enough in one sense given some of the obvious alternatives, but given everything was framed in the context of the Bill of Rights, is the implication that the press wouldn’t be free otherwise? This question is not posed by the museum, let alone answered, but clearly there are a number of countries in the world that have a free press without needing a Bill of Rights to make it happen (but what happens in other countries probably isn’t all that relevant to the domestic audience). There was also an exhibit about the fall of the Berlin Wall and the American media's role in it; judging by the way it was presented, the myth of monolithic European communism is alive and well. But there was another exhibition about the Sep11 atrocities, which centred around the mangled antenna from the top of one of the towers which was subsequently recovered and displayed in the museum as a reminder. That was quite moving.

We followed this up with a lovely Spanish-themed buffet lunch at the National Gallery of Art, where Cathy indulged me while I gawped at Pollock's Lavender Mist (for the third time), Rothko's Seagram mural (which I'd always wanted to see, and I'm glad I did, but wasn't overly impressed with), and a dozen or so French and Dutch works from the Fauvist period. The moving walkway that connected the two wings was stunning.
A visit to a bookshop this afternoon rounded out all the fiction I should need for this trip - I am currently midway through Richard Ford's 'Canada' (well written but incredibly depressing so far), and bought a copy of a recently published novel today which spans the history of New York over 250 years (can't recall the name of the author) which I'm very much looking forward to reading. We had a drink or two at the Big Hunt (don't say it quickly) which was a pub I frequented a number of times in 2005. I remember getting yelled at when I tried to order drinks at the bar instead of sitting down at the table and waiting patiently; as a result, there are signs in the bar now which say (and I'm paraphrasing badly) 'sit down, shut up, and wait for us to pay attention to you' – despite that, I had a great time chatting with Cathy over a drink or two, but won't be going back there.

Cathy then took me out to a fancy Indian restaurant where she wore the sari she bought in Vancouver, and I wore a t-shirt I bought at the Newseam. I’m all class. Meal was fantastic, and comparisons to Zaaffran abounded.

This morning saw Cathy’s ankle swollen, so she stayed in the room while I went for a wander past a number of notable buildings. So very humid that by lunchtime I’d had enough. Met Cathy back at the room (her ankle appears to be on the slow mend) and we want for some swanky yum-cha and a cocktail as late lunch. We might go out tonight – Cathy’s booked us in for dinner somewhere, with a few drinks after, or we might not.

My impressions of DC are complex. While this city is the closest to a ‘home away from home’ I’ve ever had, I think there’s a very real difference between a six week stay and a three night stay. When you know you’re in an unfamiliar city for a month and a half, the little things irritate you less, because you just have to ‘get along’ with everyone. And as a result, I’ve been telling everyone for the past 6 or 7 years that DC is a city I could live in. This three night visit has changed my mind somewhat (in particular, see my comments earlier about relating to the locals). Be in no doubt, I’ve had a good time here, and it’s been great to see how much (and in some cases how little) parts of the city have changed, but my impressions of the city from 2005 are not the same as they are now (I’d previously thought it was a very outwardly-oriented and internationally-focused city, but I’m not so sure anymore), and it might be a while before I return.