Last day in Washington

I spent quite a while this morning making a plan for the day that would involve as little walking as possible ( I have a sore L knee, a sore R big toe etc etc) and visit a different area for coffee and visit the few galleries I wanted to return to for a quick look or quick buy. Waste of time.

A separate bit of ( relevant) background : Washington is divided into 4 quadrants NW, NE, SE and SW by a North South line and an East West line running through the Capitol.
Basically the streets are laid out in a grid; the NS streets are numbered from 1 outwards from the central line and the EW streets are labelled alphabetically from A going outwards from the central EW line. All addresses have to indicate which quadrant , eg I am in 14th st, just south of M st NW. There are also diagonal streets which have state names. Washington has a major crime problem in all qaudrants other than the NW.. My advisor, who has lived in Washington also told me within the NW quadrant to stay west of a particular street which I forget – but several less than 14th. At least 1 other person has comfirmed this.

I left the apartment and wondered what the extra police were doing as I walked a few blocks to the bus stop . I intended to catch a bus to Adams Morgan, an area NW of here that has trendy shops and surely a nice café and then a train into the downtown area.. I arrived there at 9.45. The bus did not come and did not come and more police came. They were clearing the roads of traffic and making sure there were no people in parked cars. At about 10 I asked one of the cops how long this was going to take – about 5 minutes he said. I waited . I could see several blocks in both directions up and down 14th st and nothing was happening. At about 10: 10 I went across the road to a coffee shop that was part of a chain I had been to several times and liked. I got a coffee and a scone – more like what I call a rockcake – and sat outside and waited and watched. There were some locals getting a bit frazzled, but in a resigned sort of manner. What is going on, I asked a businessy looking lady as lots of motor bikes roared past, then lots of big black cars, then some more policecars went past. ‘This always happens if HE wants to go anywhere’ she said. ‘What – all that?’ , ‘Yep’ she sighed.

I finished my coffee, went back to the bus stop, having decided to still go to Adams Morgan. Some cars were coming through and a few busses but not mine. Then all the police rushed into action again, directing the cars into the side streets etc and the whole cavalcade came back again. This time I counted – today’s trivial information – there were 10 motorcycle cops, followed by 13 big black cars with dark windows. 2 of these had a man standing up through the roof, 1 had a movie like camera – or maybe it was a gun in disguise ( some of us know what nasty things hair dryers can do in Canberra) and the other a normal camera. Neither men looked thin and weedy. After the cars came a fire engine and then, just for good measure were 2 more police cars – the 2 on every intersection may not have been enough. All at high speed. So, to answer Wooster’s comment, I did say ‘Hullo’ to Obama – twice even – but I doubt he heard me.

By this stage it was after 11. I waited about 10 minutes and then decided to walk to another street for a bus to Downtown ( I had a map of bus routes) . I thought I had been to the West a few times so I would go east. I walked along P street, where the bus stop was, passed nice houses , clean lawn, nice cars and all of a sudden I realised I had crossed into the area that I was advised not to go to. The houses were run down and the fronts messy and the cars old bombs. I walked south and stopped at a bus stop. I waited a bit and realised there were no people around so I would be better off keeping walking south. After several more blocks I got to some shops and people and a better area. I was not scared, just surprised at how quickly – just 1 block – an area could change.

All my carefully thought out plans to avoid walking had gone out the window. Ah well, I can not walk for the several days it will take to get home . I had seen in a flyer a photo of a painting of New York that I wanted to see in the American Art Museum by an American artist , Georgia O’Keefe. It was great – full of energy, but still fun and sort of whimsical, like I found New York. I had a quick wiz around and decided I would go back there, but I wanted to have a nice lunch on my last day ( I can always find an excuse – in a few days it will be back to my booring stuff) . There is a nice new restaurant that has had good reviews in the Newseum building that has a deal if you go there the same or almost same day as the Newseum. I had a delicious lunch. In Washington, the servers introduce themselves by name, and I try and use their name - e.g. added to the ‘thank you’ . I donot know if it was that, or the fact that I had told him it was my last day in USA or he was a nice guy or probably the fact that he had opened a bottle for me and did not expect to use the rest , but he came and gave me a significant top up of wine, saying it was on the house. I protested – I had to think and walk afterwards but still thanked him. He said ‘You don’t have to drink it.’ But I was taught not to waste anything.

I toddled ( not tottered) off on my tired legs to the main art museum to see a Klimpt painting I had missed – the baby – but I did not like it as much as the pregnant woman ( I’ve forgotten the name) in New York. I bought a few things for my granddaughters and then went back to the American Art Museum. There was an interesting exhibition of Annie Liebovitz’s photos and a gallery of photos dealing with life in Harlem. There was a painting by Joseph Delaney of people rushing to get to a train in Penn station, New York. He had made a comment that everyone is equal in a train station. Not quite, I thought, remembering the red hatted men in Boston. I went back to the newseum to buy a book of the Pulitzer Prize photos , soft covered but still heavy.

I had been thinking at lunch that the only things I have bought for me have been sensible and bought here because they are significantly cheaper – my New Balance Minimus shoes, my Icebreaker black pants – than in Australia so I decided at lunch that I would return to the shop of the craft museum and buy myself a frivolous red glass flower which I saw on Monday. Trouble is, while I was walking home after buying it, I remembered about the frivolous shoes I bought in Boston. I shall blame my tired brain – it is going slowly, like my camera ( takes ages to close) - certainly not Keenan and the extra wine , about 2 hours had passed.

In case I forget later , I apologise to my grammatically critical friends because I am sure I use ‘past’ and ‘passed’ incorrectly sometimes.