Washington DC - A Camp Capitol

williac — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 12:38:00 GMT

After the high-rise impact of New York, the capitol seems incredibly flat. As someone completely unfamiliar with city laws restricting the height of buildings, the lack of skyscrapers took me completely by surprise. In fact, I had to double check the metro names to make sure I hadn’t stopped off in the wrong town. It was late afternoon by the time I arrived at the hotel, but after seeing the pinnacle of the Washington memorial from my room window the urge to explore proved too strong to resist. With no real destination in mind I found myself following the sound of loudspeakers to Capitol Hill and as it turned out, the site of a gay pride rally. Before arriving in the states I didn’t know a great deal about gay rights in the country, but after tuning in to CNN from my hotel in New York I found news reporters discussing little else. There’s a great deal of controversy surrounding a policy introduced by the Clinton administration called ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ which effectively prohibits openly gay and transgender people from serving in the military. No doubt an improvement on the previous legislation which only allowed heterosexuals into the army, the draft still needed a lot to be desired. There was unsurprisingly little change to this during the Bush administration but in the lead up to his election, Barrack Obama stated that he would abolish the controversial policy. Despite the huge drive for Obama from the LGBT sector during his White House bid ousthere has been little progress and supporters are becoming (understandably) a little impatient. Such it was that I found myself watching the sunset behind the Washington memorial while surrounded by rainbow flags and guys wearing just a tad too much makeup.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’ve already acquired a bad habit since arriving in the US. I’m not proud of the fact and I feel dirty admitting it but I’ve started buying coffee at Starbucks. I don’t know whether it’s the shameless attempt to sell commercialism in the disguise of your friendly neighborhood coffee-shop or whether they’re just so damn reliable, but it’s got to the stage where I walk around a corner and feel affronted when there isn’t one there. I started the day with a mocha and particularly fine cinnamon bun (but didn’t feel good about it). After a short walk past the White House (no photo opportunities unfortunately as some inconsiderate bugger had pitched a marquee in front of it) I got a call from my Peace Corp friend in DC, Elise. Running to a pretty tight schedule as it was (she had just found a property in the city and was getting ready to move the next day) we made plans to grab a late lunch. Ben’s Chile Bowl is something of a Washington institution. A regular haunt of Bill Cosby (reputably the only person allowed to eat free until the Obamas were recently added), the restaurant served the policeman during the infamous riots which followed the assasitnation of Martin Luther King Jr. and construction workers during the metro constructions. Mr Cosby is reported to have taken his girlfriend on dates to the Chile Bowl back in the 60’s when business was probably a lot quieter. Today we were greeted by a queue stretching two lines down the counter but I was assured that it would be worth the wait. I have no idea who first came up with the chili dog but it’s an incredible invention which does exactly what it says on the tin; someone obviously had the epiphany (no doubt after a heavy on the town) that the only possible way to improve a hot-dog would be to smother it in Chili, and it works. There remains no greater indicator of the American dream than its food.

Washington DC Is generally defined by its monuments; from the Lincoln and Washington memorials to the reflecting pool they’re the icons which define the capitol. They also provide by far the best photo opportunities, and though I thoroughly enjoyed standing at the foot of the Lincoln memorial imagining the scene from Forrest Gump panning out before me I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking around a giant cemetery. After a walk around the Vietnam Veterans memorial I decided to cheer myself by checking out Natural History museum. After the monuments, the Smithsonian series of museums is one of the best things Washington has going for it, they really are spectacular. I made a point of checking out the Natural History museum in New York while I was there and it felt a little second rate in comparison with its DC counterpart. Then again, I may be slightly biased as The Smithsonian museum of Natural History has one of the best collections of rocks and minerals in the world, around 40,000 specimens to be exact. From the hope diamond to Iron Meteorites and every flavor of ore you can imagine there’s something here for the rock geek in everyone. While looking through some particularly good specimens of Malachite (copper oxide) a little old lady next to me exclaimed “they’re amazing aren’t they? I’ve never seen anything like them”. I was spared the explanation of how I had actually seen some particularly good examples in the oxide section of the open pit a few months ago when she turned around and visibly started; “I’m sorry, I thought you were my husband!”

Tomorrow we’re off to Denver Colorado. It’s cold up there at the moment so wrap up warm.

New York - Definitely one helluva town

williac — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 20:00:00 GMT

The first thing that strikes you about America is… well, everything. The more you look around the more you find the source of every movie stereotype you’ve ever seen. From the big cars to the big personalities Americans live their lives large and that’s largely what makes New York so appealing to the small town British tourist with a comparatively reserved personality. I generally find the term ‘it took my breath away’ to be little more than a cliché but I can’t think of a better way to describe my reaction when I walked out of the 42^nd street subway and was greeted with the looming skyscrapers of the New York skyline. It may have been partly due to sleep deprivation but after picking the general direction of Times Square I started off down the street with my head arched back and a complete disregard for how much I looked like a complete tourist.

Which was better than I felt walking into the Mansfield Hotel wearing a backpacker’s rucksack and smelling like 24 hours of travel. The Mansfield is a respectable little place situated just off the main bustle of Times Square and an image which can only be described as 1920’s heyday. I’d chosen the place based on the thought that it would be nice to spend a few days in relative luxury after nine weeks working in the desert but completely forgot my lack of any suitable clothes or luggage. If the well dressed lady behind the counter had any reservations about letting in such a vagrant she didn’t show it but I still made a point of doing some urgent clothes shopping first thing the following morning.

To anyone unfamiliar with city metro services the New York subway system is an attraction in itself. I spent a happy half hour hopping on and off trains before paying attention to where I was actually going. It’s an incredibly efficient system and there can’t be many places in the world more suited to people watching. There seems to be an unwritten rule among inhabitants that any form of eye contact must be avoided at all costs which makes it pretty easy to get a good look at the assortment of characters around you. In-transit entertainment is also provided by a random selection of subway performers (just like street performers but underground). The Mexican guitarist and break-dancers I encountered on my travels prompted a particularly strong bout of navel gazing by my fellow travelers but I dropped them both a couple of dollars and left the train feeling a little bit happier than I had when I’d boarded. I always find it interesting to hear the different recorded voices on trains, from the crisp politeness of the Brits to the subtle elegance of the French. The one in use on the New York subway system deserves mention of its own; an amiable voice filled with so much enthusiasm that you almost expect to see the man bound through the door and shake your hand.

After navigating the subway I finally made it down to Bowlers Green and across to the Ellis Island ferry port. However, after a look at the twisting queue brought on a flash-back to the customs and immigration line at the airport (an uncomfortable 2 hour wait) I quickly decided to appreciate the Statue of Liberty from a distance. After an aimless walk past Wall Street I stumbled across the site of the World Trade Centre. Standing on the edge of ground zero and overlooking the huge construction site which now covers the conspicuously open space is a humbling experience. I found it all too easy to look down the surrounding streets and imagine the billowing clouds of dust and panic on September 11^th 2001. I had a quick chat with an official whose main purpose seemed to be to shoo eager photo seekers off the surrounding plinths. When asked about what he thought of Freedom Tower, the new building currently under construction on the old site he perked up considerably. “It’s great isn’t it?” he said pointing to the artists’ rendition on a large banner along the fence in front of us. “It’s still going to take about five years to complete but the sooner we can get this area open to the public again the better”. I asked him to take my photo but felt surprisingly guilty; it seemed wrong to be using the location of such a tragedy as just another tourist opportunity.

Tomorrow it’s off to Washington.

Beynon Abroad

Washington DC - A Camp Capitol

New York - Definitely one helluva town