Explore the powerhouse of the Western world

Published Jun 29, 2016

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Sophie Thompson

 

Washington DC - Epic adventurer Ralf Dominick, who sailed around the world and recently travelled to Antarctica, strongly suggested a stop in Washington, DC.

So, following his advice, I did just that, spending six days in the capital.

Dominick had spent a month in Washington living on his boat, so he got to know the town well. Home for me for the duration of the stay was in the historic district of LeDroit Park, a short metro ride from most of the sights.

As one of the first suburbs of Washington, LeDroit Park was developed and marketed as a “romantic” neighbourhood, with narrow tree-lined streets that bore the same names as the trees that shaded them. The colourful suburb had a very distinct architecture, with Victorian mansions co-existing with row houses that were all elegantly and brightly painted.

My accommodation was terrible but the suburb was fabulous and the local pub was well worth a stop. Called the Boundary Stone Public House, it served great food and offered an array of locally brewed beers all on tap. A pint of DC Brau was certainly a memorable craft.

Every night after catching the last train out, wandering home I strolled past the century-old Howard Theatre, and every night the red carpet was dressing up the pavement, with limousines lining up waiting for their guests. The events changed nightly at the busy theatre, from a glitzy CD launch by a famous hip hop artist to an awards evening to a rap concert. They were all by invite only, and posters of a theatre performance being advertised showed that it was weeks away.

Each day I would venture into Washington, exploring the well-known sights. The capital for me was very monotone. All the sights, buildings and monuments felt like they were one colour – marble white certainly dominated the colour chart. But saying this, there was an air of excitement about being in this famous city.

I trawled the city, stopping at all the main tourist attractions, saying hi to the massive statues of Jefferson and Lincoln, cruising around the manicured grounds on Capitol Hill, wandering past the heavily secured small building of the White House, gazing heavenwards up at the Washington Monument that was under repairs from an earthquake in 2011 and pondering the meaning of war as I wandered through various memorials dotted around the city.

The city was immaculate. With an almost Singaporean approach to litter, these was hardly any. Breaking the monotone colour scheme were the cheerful cherry blossom trees. I had missed the festival by a week but the tail end of the blooms was still a delightful treat. The daffodils were marvellous. Every street had rainbow displays – if they were in pots, flowerbeds or planted neatly around traffic circles they certainly made a jolly impact.

The Smithsonian Institutions were great. I spent too much time exploring the Sculpture Gardens, the National Air and Space Museum, the National Museum of Natural History, the National Art Gallery, the African American History and Culture Museum, the African Art Museum, the US Botanical Gardens and the information building nestled in The Castle – the only building in the vicinity that looked made of brick and not marble white.

 

A moving highlight was spending time at the Pentagon’s 911 memorial. With all the conspiracy theories flying around about the tragic day, visiting this simple memorial on an un-crowded Sunday was still heartfelt. Over a decade on, the injured side of the Pentagon was still a building site, with the beeps of construction vehicles interrupting the peaceful surroundings.

A glistening black marble wall carved with the names of the people who lost their lives that day shadowed by a proud American flag wafting in the wind, greeted visitors. To the right was a barren park with a few young trees starting their ascent in the hope of shading the memorial.

A knee-high wall cupped the park and every couple of metres on top of the wall was a sign with a year engraved. Travelling across the floor of the park was a line that came up to meet the timeline spotted along the boundary. The timeline on the wall indicated the year that the 911 victims were born; it began at 1998 and ended at 1930.

Rising out of the gravel, between the lines, were a number of diving boards that looked out of place without a massive shimmering turquoise pool. On closer inspection, each statue had a small serenity pool situated directly under the overhang. At night, lights shone up through the water, illuminating the statues in an eerie but beautiful manner.

The 184 “diving boards” shot off in two directions in a somewhat sporadic order.

An encounter with a kind police officer happened at a deserted Metro station in the city late one evening. The young officer accompanied by a beautiful black Labrador, Leo, was sweeping the area looking for anything out of the ordinary. Leo and his partner worked for the bomb unit and Leo had recently returned from spending two years in Afghanistan. He was working the quieter late shift because he had just graduated from six months in rehab after all the action he had seen. A sad reality of war that this poor Labrador had been a part of.

 

Most days before heading back to my accommodation to change into evening attire, I would take a breather from the overload of sightseeing. The famous patch of lawn stretching from Capitol Hill to the Washington Monument was a healthy shade of green and it became a hive of activity when everyone knocked off work.

The activities on the lawns were adorned with various mixed leagues, ranging from American football to soccer to softball and even a strict class of boot camp. Sitting on the benches, people-watching, a steady stream of runners and dog walkers would hustle past, dodging strolling tourists. The majority of the Capitol workers certainly were in peak fitness condition, in contrast to the lumpy tourists wandering around.

Watching the sunset over the Capitol, the city started to twinkle under lights and I soon got to see the magnificent sights under darkness. Certainly a memorable sight.

Washington was fascinating, a wonderful adventure. I’m glad I got to explore the powerhouse of the Western world.

Sunday Tribune

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