Arsenal Women in DC: Tour Diary Day 2

If Tuesday was straight into the action with the Arsenal Women open training session, today (and tomorrow as it happens) are mine to be a tourist in DC. I am staying not too far from the Washington Monument, the White House and DC’s scores of free museums and that choice was very much made with today in mind (forgive me if this diary entry is light, or even devoid, of football).

One of my favourite things about America is breakfast. In England, if you want a decent sized breakfast, that means having a greasy breakfast. In the US, you can get a good portion of protein and / or carbs for breakfast without chewing your way through an ounce of grease (though that option is available too, clearly. In the touristy areas of the states, if you say you want deep fried swan for breakfast, you can probably get it).

I am a big believer that the humble omelette is the best form of good sized breakfast but in England, we consider it a lunch food, brunch at a push (unless you go to a traditional greasy spoon cafe, which, sadly, are few and far between nowadays). Cognisant of the fact that I have a day of walking in the sun ahead, I load up on an omelette stuffed with peppers, onions and all the good stuff, some breakfast potatoes and some wholemeal toast, with more coffee refills than I will admit in these pages (the coffee is not great but you get unlimited refills, easy come, easy go).

With a sizeable breakfast behind me (but crucially a breakfast that doesn’t leave me short of breath and in need of a defibrillator), I set out for the political cradle of the US. I start out by walking to the Court of Appeals and the Abraham Lincoln Statue, then I go back on myself a little and hit Constitution Avenue to take in some of the big ticket government buildings and the Smithsonian museums, which are all free.

I worked on Whitehall for many years and Constitution Avenue, the Washington Equivalent, dwarfs it both in size and grandeur. I walk past the DoJ, the US archives and I stop on a traffic island to take a picture of Capitol Hill. Only it turns out not to be a traffic island but a cycle lane. I annoy some cyclists in doing so which feels especially galling on my part because a cyclist has never caused any undue danger to a pedestrian by cycling in pedestrian areas or skipping red lights, for example.

I drift into the Natural History Museum but only stay for about 15 minutes when I realise, belatedly, that a) this isn’t really specific to the place I am in and, ergo, probably not the best use of my time and b) the London version of the Natural History Museum is superior anyway because my ancestors stole quite a lot more artefacts from around the world that didn’t belong to them.

So I go into the museum of American History and that feels like a better use of my time (apparently the British and the Americans had something of a difference of opinion circa 1776 but, as a product of the British Education system, this is the first I have heard of it…) Tired from the walking (it has been about three hours at this stage) I retire to the cafeteria for lunch and am ID’d when I attempt to add a beer to my order. I don’t have ID but pathetically offer to the friendly women serving me, ‘I’m 40!’ With a mixture of desperation, bafflement and regret. She accepts this as a form of ID.

The weather in DC has been milder and more pleasant than it usually is at this time of year (by which I mean it is 27 degrees with a nice breeze) but the sun grows harsher as we creep into the afternoon. I visit the museum of African American History and Culture en route to the Washington Monument. By now the legs are weary, the achilles is soft and gamey and the lower back is beginning to audibly creak. I walk up to the Monument, surrounded by Stars and Stripes before making my weary way to Ben White’s House.

As I said earlier, I worked on Whitehall for some years and the US Treasury Building is somewhat more salubrious than its English equivalent. I take my place on a bench in the shade opposite the White House and listen to a podcast about Arsenal. With no small effort expended on walking and chin stroking, oh my brothers, I take the walk back to my hotel and take advantage of the pool (by which I mean I have a quick swim).

For the evening, I walk back towards the Monument and have an enormously overpriced bottle of Michelob in a rooftop bar overlooking DC. Then I make my way to a reasonably priced bar and grill for an IPA and a good hamburger. Another thing I really like about US culinary culture is being able to rock up at a restaurant solo and sit at the bar to eat and drink. The UK has a far more ‘computer says no’ approach to solo dining. We like to erect pointless barriers to people who want to spend their money in establishments for some reason.

I love being a ‘bar fly’, especially when I am on my own. It’s a great way of being part of a wider social scene without having to tangibly interact with it, which I find perfect. My favourite ever novel is ‘The Stranger’ by Albert Camus and there is a scene where the protagonist, Meursault, simply sits at a cafe table and watches the town and its people drift by and eating a solo meal at a bar gives me the same sensation. Having a seat at a bar is my favourite solo eating / drinking experience and America caters for it in a way that the UK doesn’t really.

Tomorrow I am meeting a friend, Martin, who lives in DC to take in the Nationals game. I am not a baseball fan and am not sure I entirely understand the rules but, much like cricket in the UK, I assume these things are in no way mandatory in a long form sport like baseball. I am told the sporting spectacle is secondary to the food and beer spectacle and that sounds ok to me.