DC By the Book

Excerpt: After our heart-to-heart chat, we proceeded along Massachusetts Avenue toward a neighborhood near Dupont Circle known as Embassy Row. It wasn’t a misnomer. The foreign diplomatic core resided inside regal estates, and the enclave was generally considered the most picturesque in the entire city. I knew the neighborhood because it was home to many of the city’s most prominent public policy think tanks, such as the Brookings Institution, the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, and the American Enterprise Institute. We passed the Indian Embassy’s famous statue of Ghandi on Massachusetts and made several turns through sleepy, shaded streets.

Excerpt: We pulled up to a carriage house set apart from the bustling N Street corridor. No surprise, an iron gate guarded a long pathway, framed by a row of picturesque lanterns blazing the otherwise dark path to the restaurant’s entrance.

Excerpt: Doug’s question went unanswered when Winston motioned for us to follow. We entered a beautiful outdoor patio surrounded by a lush garden. A wisteria vine dotted with white lights served as a makeshift ceiling.

Excerpt: Spring mornings in DC were beautiful and brisk. In a few weeks, I’d trade the long-sleeved hoodie for a tank top. The cool air was a relief after summer, which conquered the city with a humid vengeance. I jogged along the landscaped side streets and headed north on Massachusetts Avenue. Eventually, I hung a right onto Belmont. This was an entire neighborhood of foreign embassies. The ornate buildings and tree-lined sidewalks provided gorgeous scenery.

Excerpt: We breezed past the long queue of visitors waiting to catch a glimpse of our nation’s founding documents. As we entered the rotunda, I gazed at the two large murals flanking the huge glass cases housing the archive’s most precious treasures. Painted by Barry Faulkner, the paintings had been restored over a decade ago. The mural depicted a fictional presentation of the Declaration and Constitution. George Washington didn’t appear in the former - he was fighting the Revolutionary War of 1776 - but he was the centerpiece of the second painting, regal in his magisterial cloak. At first glance, a casual viewer might believe that Faulkner chose to portray Washington in his mural as a king, perhaps a precursor to Napoleon. Such a facile interpretation couldn’t have been further from the truth. Instead, Faulkner had sought to convey Washington’s strong, unyielding belief in the newly created Constitution.

Excerpt: We walked outside into the refreshing spring air. On the other side of Constitution, the National Gallery of Art Sculpture Garden was bursting with tourists. The ice skating rink had been dismantled for the season. Soon, the popular Friday concerts would begin, filling the area with jazz lovers sipping wine and enjoying the long summer twilight.

Excerpt: Oyamel was only three blocks north on Seventh Street. I passed the Federal Trade Commission and entered Indiana Square, the location of the Grand Army of the Republic Memorial. It probably wasn’t on most touristy lists of “must see” monuments, yet its historical significance was considerable. Doug had told me the twenty-five-foot-high memorial commemorated GAR, which boasted a membership of over 400,000 Union veterans after the Civil War. The organization was responsible for securing pensions for Union soldiers - the first ever government-funded social welfare program in the history of the United States.

Excerpt: Meg and I parted ways outside of Oyamel. She headed home to her DC apartment to change clothes and squeeze in a power nap. I headed northwest past the Shakespeare Theatre, the Smithsonian Portrait Gallery, the International Spy Museum, and the Martin Luther King Jr. Central Library to the busy Metro Center subway station. Ten minutes later, I descended inside the crossroads of the District’s transit system. Four separate lines were serviced at Metro Center, making it the central hub for commuters and tourists. Rush hour had begun, which was both a boon and a curse. It meant trains arrived more frequently, but also that the ride home would likely find me packed in like a sardine.

Excerpt: By the time we hit the Foggy Bottom station, the subway car had filled up. Despite the large volume of people, the Metro was almost always quiet. People listened to music, read books on their Kindles, or stared into space. However, Friday evenings were different. The crowd buzzed with chatter about weekend plans and the spring weather. Only ten minutes from my stop, I was able to tune out the surrounding din and focus on the case.

Excerpt: We strolled past the open-air installations situated inside a small fenced-in area that served as an outdoor extension of the National Gallery of Art. My favorite was the huge bronze spider sculpture, but Doug preferred the pop art Lichtenstein house. The artists had painted the freestanding structure as an optical illusion. The side of the house appeared to project both towards you and away from you at the same time, changing perspective as you walked around it. We arrived at the Sculpture Garden Pavilion Cafe and ordered a delightful brunch. A few minutes after finding a sport inside the glass restaurant, we had been served our order of steel cut oats, scrambled eggs, croissants, mimosas, and two coffees.

Excerpt: It was only a short walk across Ninth Street to our destination. The cherry blossoms had already peaked so the crowds were smaller than they had been only a week ago. Even so, a line had formed outside the main entrance. Several recent updates to permanent exhibits had caused the attendance to saor. With over seven million visitors last year, Natural History was easily the most popular Smithsonian museum and a “top five” DC attraction. After clearing security, we found ourselves face to face with an enormous pachyderm inside the first floor rotunda. “That’s the biggest elephant I’ve ever seen,” I remarked.

Excerpt: We pushed our way through the crowd to catch a glimpse at a tiger leaping out of the ceiling, a giraffe stretching to eat a leaf, a fully upright brown bear, and a hippo with its enormous mouth wide open. The heavy traffic of tourists and sightseers prevented us from taking a closer look, which didn’t matter since we had only minutes to spare.

Excerpt: After thanking Celeste profusely for her assistance, Doug and I made our way through the crowd. The popular Hope Diamond, almost four hundred years old, was responsible for the tourist swarm on the second floor. The Washington Post reported that over seven million people viewed the blue gem each year at the Harry Winston Gallery, making it the most popular Smithsonian attraction in Washington. We edged our way downstairs to the rotunda and found a seat on a bench at the periphery of the African elephant.

Excerpt: Soon we were searching for a parking space in the trendy Logan Circle area. Luckily, we found a spot on nearby R Street, which was primarily residential. After walking a few blocks south, we approached the standalone corner restaurant and edged our way inside the busy entrance underneath its classy, bright sign. The bread table was right near the door. In inhaled the enticing smell of freshly baked baguettes.

Excerpt: I wove through the serpentine streets, passing by the consular headquarters of Turkey, Yemen, Thailand, Poland, Afghanistan, Syria, Macedonia, and Nepal. Each of these embassies hosted cultural events on a regular basis. When lucky enough to receive an invitation to an embassy fete, we made an effort to attend. Even Doug, who was more comfortable hiding inside Georgetown library stacks than frequenting a cocktail party, could be persuaded to take advantage of the splendid food, drink, and entertainment routinely found at embassy soirees.

Excerpt: The Archives is a revered spot in Washington. Those of us who lived locally didn’t visit often, making opportunities like this one valuable. Unlike the Smithsonian museums or the National Zoo, it was nearly impossible to tour the Archives on a whim. To avoid waiting in line for hours, you needed reservations. Viewing the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of RIghts required advanced planning.