Where were we? Oh yes, NYC and our four nights had come to an end, similarily that long blogpost US Bond Part 1. It was fabulous to be there again, I’m a big fan of New York and for Louis it was a superb first visit to the Big Apple. Off then to Washing DC where the shot above was taken, as were all the photos in Part 2. It was eerily quiet, especially when compared with the absolutely buzzing Manhattan. Massively poorer financially, Louis and I wanted answers. For example where the hell did all our dollars go? We waited and waited, there was no one in at The Department Of The Treasury, nor anywhere else for that matter. There’s very little Street Photography in Part 2, not that there was much in Part 1. This is more me writing some memories and holiday snaps featuring my travel companion.
The train from NYC to DC was fifteen minutes or so late arriving at the Moynahan Train Hall in New York, so clearly it would be departing late. Perfectly acceptable in my opinion, travel can be like that, we just need to get our expectations under control. I looked at the Arrival & Departure boards for a track number. Nothing. I found the information desk tucked away, it seemed as though the location was kept as a secret. Two ladies were sat in a small office. One on her smartphone, doubtful that she was looking at the Amtrak timetables, and another who was doing every one a favour by simply turning up to work. I managed to get six words from her, which was something of a victory as I expected a punch in the face just for daring to breathe in there. “Excuse me, could you help? Which track for the 11:35 to Washington D.C. please?”. She grudgingly looked up. “Train number?”. I gave up train spotting when I was 12 years old, no idea what the number was. I looked at my electronic ticket and told her “It’s 125, I believe”. She barked “It ain’t in yet”. “Okay” I replied. “Presumably the track number will be displayed once it is?”. She looked at me as though I was something she’d just trodden in. “Yeah”. In these situations I want to say: Are you sure you’ve made the right career choice? Your current one requires that you are the face of a business dealing with the public and in the travel industry where often people can be a little confused and or stressed. I might suggest you’re in the wrong one and you may wish to rethink your career path, your attitude to other human beings and life itself. Instead, as always, I said “Thank you for your time and help”. It conveys the same sentiment.
Anyway, meanwhile back in the concourse the natives were getting restless, no one it seems understood what was happening. One of the escalators leading to the tracks was suddenly closed whilst simultaneously the Board showed Track 17 that we would all need. A large queue formed at the recently closed escalator. Remember in Part 1 when I mentioned how irate people become when things aren’t going as expected and they realise that they’re not as special as their egos led them to believe. Man there was a lot of bruised egos in that concourse. Louis and I joined the very back of the long line. An official came down and pulled us out and walked us up to the front. On the march up to the head of the queue three or four times people shouted “Why are they going first?”. The official, a woman who was taking no shit from anyone because she had her own shit to deal with, replied “Because they’re a family, you gotta a problem with that?”. They didn’t, no one fancied their chances arguing with this lady. That New York attitude can work both ways. Let’s go to Washington. Someone should make a film “Mr Harper Goes To Washington”, James Stewart could play me.
We arrived in hot (33C) and more importantly very humid conditions. I checked the weather before we left New York: “33C. Feels Like 42C”. How do they know what it feels like to the exact degree? Surely it should just say “feels Hotter”. It’s subjective. Anyway, it was bloody unbearable at times, they could put that and not bother with temperatures. I chatted to a beautiful, let’s say “traditionally built” lady from Louisiana. She said, in that wonderful accent that makes you feel that they’ve not only seen a lot of life, but are extremely wise: “Honey, I just left Louisiana, one o two (102F), that ain’t nutin, DC is as hot as hell”. If she was feeling it then we all must be. I momentarily fell in love or at least wanted her to adopt me. I strongly suspect that a few hours spent in her company would be some of the best you could ever spend, stories to be told that would make you laugh and cry. Washington DC used to be a swamp, some might say it still is one, but I couldn’t possibly comment. Well, actually I can. Because it wasn’t built on a swamp, some wetlands, but for the most part simply next to the Potomac River.
We dropped the bags off at our hotel and as is my way took stroll to get my bearings. We appeared to be in a commercial district. No tumble weed, but a stark resemblance to a ghost town. It seemed to me that we’d struggle to find food for Louis or me. We walked a couple of blocks at most, turned right and there was the White House. I expected to see hundreds if not thousands of people outside. The epicentre of the ‘multitude’ were directly front of the most famous address in America, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Well, here’s a shot of Louis stood there, I haven’t counted, but there couldn’t be more than 30 people. I’ve seen more interest outside of a MacDonalds.
Washington D.C. is a relatively small city. Population of around 650,000. Most choose to live in the bordering states of Maryland and Virginia. Locals told me that it was much better than living in Washington itself. I presumed a lot of that population is made up of people related to Government, it’s over 40% I read somewhere. Wow! That’s over a quarter of a million people who one way or another derive their salary from the tax payer. Then you’ll have all the spin offs from that, lobbyists and so forth. You’d struggle to find someone who wasn’t on the political payroll in one way or another.
It seemed to me that D.C. caters for some high earning political types, especially when it comes to eating out, at least in the area we found ourselves in. On our first night we ended up at a Five Guys burger restaurant, partly for Louis, but mostly there really wasn’t anything else. No matter, we got to bed and looked forward to the next few days. If you ever find yourself in Washington the street grid system runs slightly differently than many places in the U.S. It’s little complicated so lets not go deeply into it. There’s a reason I’m telling you this. Essentially the Capitol is the centre. There are four quadrants, N.W., N.E., S.W., S.E. Numbered Streets run east and west. First Street and so on. Lettered streets run north and south. M Street for example, is where we stayed and in the North West quadrant. Be aware that just because it’s M Street you have to remember which quadrant you’re in to find somewhere you’re looking for. Then there are named avenues such as Pennsylvania Avenue. Yep, it’s getting complicated already. Some letters are missing too, there’s no J Street for instance. What most visitors are concerned with is the National Mall.
Essentially a strip. It’s two miles long and off this throughout the park are most museums and monuments. Earlier I said how quiet it was, not though it seems if you want to book anything that requires booking. For instance the Washington Monument behind Louis in that shot. You can go to the top, it’s where they filmed Spiderman. I got on the ‘web’ (see what I did there), not a chance of booking it. Another big attraction is the Air and Space Museum, again I couldn’t get tickets. Where the hell were all these people who managed to book, and how, is what I want to know. There’s plenty to do and see, so no worries. Obviously the monuments, you can also walk through the Vietnam War Memorial. I cried. Then you can go into the Holocaust Museum. I cried. Or you can make your 11 year old son walk miles in ridiculous heat. He Cried. I wasn’t sure whether I was crying or sweating.
On one of the days we decided to visit the International Spy Museum. I made him walk from the hotel. I just looked it up, 2.4 miles, oops. The Spy Museum is great fun. You get an agents card, secret identity and basically do some spying spread over five floors. Louis lost his card half way through. I’m always checking with him because he has a habit of forgetting and therefore losing stuff. Specifically his phone. He get’s really annoyed when I keep saying “Got your phone?”. Sometimes I spot that he’s going to leave it somewhere, like a restaurant and I just pick it up and place in my back pocket. Purely for my entertainment as I watch him go crazy and then blame me for not reminding him. Anyway, he lost his Spy ID Card, blamed me. I still had mine because of course I’m practically Bond himself. Harper, John Harper. Okay, not entirely, there’s a touch of Austin Powers as well!
I was still thinking all things spying and Bond when I met Brian, if that indeed was his real name. I had a long conversation with Brian one morning at breakfast. He purported to be a geologist from Texas working in Ukraine who was just visiting Washington for his first time ever. Yeah sure. “Hey, I’m spyin’ ‘ere”. Definitely CIA. That said a really nice chap, Louis chatted with him too, because Louis is one of those people who has no hang ups, isn’t shy and will happily converse with grown ups. He’ll keep the conversation on their level, sometimes they actually learn from him, I can see it in their expressions. I have a feeling that Brian was trying to recruit him, however Louis will surely be working for MI6. Well, if not working for them, definitely known to them in the course of their investigations! I saw Brian again in the elevator later, he said “that boy of yours is very smart”.
That photo was him demanding an immediate Uber and me telling him that we’re in the middle of a park, it can’t physically get here we’ll need to walk a little bit further. That day was ridiculously humid. I couldn’t see the Uber app on my phone for the sweat dripping in my eyes. I ordered one near to a car park we were by then standing in. Now, it kept saying 1st Street was the pick up. Remember my explanation of the D.C. street grid earlier. I couldn’t work out where that was even though I was stood near the epicentre at the Capitol building. Did I need to go east or west, north or South. I took action and headed West with someone who refused to walk any further. It was wrong and we missed our Uber and got charged $5 for the privilege. It’s at this point in Louis’s life, when everything is going wrong, he’s had enough, swearing under his breath, gets angry and phones his mother to vent it all out on her. Everything is always her fault and she needs to fix whatever he’s not happy with. I didn’t want him to ring and give her a hard time, presuming he hadn’t lost his phone of course, nor did I want to punch his lights out in front of the Supreme Court. I ordered another Uber, I still couldn’t see through the sweat, maybe tears by now who knows, managing to put a pin in our exact location. Happy days. Air Conditioning. Frayed tempers calmed.
We’re going to bring this to a close. In the evenings we took a taxi or Uber to Georgetown, only just over a mile, but we were both knackered/drained by the evenings. It felt like a home, not only did it look like an English town, but also there was a choice of eateries. We found an Italian. Louis discovered a Pizza that had all the ingredients he liked, in fact they should have a had a photo of him next it. Hold on he doesn’t like cheese, you said that in Part 1. Just like the D.C street grid, it’s complicated. Cheese is okay on a pizza apparently. Sat in the restaurant one evening we witnessed the only rain during our week. Short lived, but tropical in its intensity. I tried to snap it through the window. To be honest, I’d lost a little interest in Street Photography. You have to concentrate and I just couldn’t be bothered. Grabbed a few shots here and there. Something that caught my eye, some light I liked, or the red and white taxis, me of all things. And Louis’s favourite event in Georgetown when a motorcycle gang go about 50 or so rode through on dirt bikes and those ATVs/Quad bikes, pulling wheelies, making a lot of noise, causing chaos. They all rode past a Police Car which was powerless to do anything.
There you have it. Louis and I have a U.S. Bond. Not one of those monetary assets, but one you can’t buy. We spent time together. Time is the most important commodity of any market you choose. Our bond is priceless. Despite anything I said he was a perfect travel companion. He took everything in his stride, rarely complained (except for when he pulled his switch comb on me) and was an absolute joy to be with.
All images can be opened by clicking on the thumbnails and are made using a Leica M with Summicron 28mm Lens fitted.
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