Whaaaaaaat!!! No Pictures???!!! (Part Deux)

He heard his father cry out—they had left the camera with his mother. “All this way, and no picture,” he’d said, shaking his head. He reached into his pocket and began to throw the striped stones into the water. “We will have to remember it, then.”

-- Jhumpa Lahiri, The Namesake

In a break with tradition (my tradition that is) I accepted an invitation to spend New Year’s with family friends in Virginia. Normally, I spend New Year's in Manhattan (as far away as possible from Times Square --damned tourist trap) and maybe see a good movie on new Year's Day (Roomie, I swear, I haven't seen Sweeney Todd or Atonement just yet, but you better hurry up and get here!).

There’s so much to see in Virginia and D.C.—most of the museums are free and there is a lot of history in the area. Even if I stayed for only three full days, I was in full tourist mode, except for the fact that I had left my camera behind (BEWWWWW!). I was excited to re-learn going around the city, exploring new museums and— what the heck—riding the Metro.

The first day of my visit, my host brought me to Mount Vernon, the residence of George Washington. I suppose he lived here during the days of his presidency, as the White House was not finished during his term. Good ole George lived in the lap of luxury, with about 8,000 acres to his name and a posh house overlooking the Potomac River, a gorgeous view that a lot of people would kill for. I hated that people were hurried through the house tour, as I would have liked to closely examine some of the furniture and knick knacks from the 18th century. But I really got a kick out of the laundry room. It was huge, with a large stove, irons that were actually made of iron and hanging rods. In those days, laundry was a difficult and dangerous job, since handling the hot irons was often an accident waiting to happen. And since there was no plumbing at that time, water had to be hauled from the river nearby.

Most of the surrounding area had been farmland or orchards, probably giving rise to the story about George Washington and the cherry tree. Here is something I picked up to remind me of my day at Mount Vernon. Pretty tasty, eh?

New Year’s day was pretty quiet, and I rested so that I would have more energy to hit the museums. The next day, I got a ride to the city and tried to feel my way around the Metro system in D.C. During my last visit, I walked around the city to get a better handle on directions and streets. It had been summer then, and I got really brown, too. However, it was positively arctic, and since I was nursing a cold, the Metro was the way to go. Besides, I love trains, and it gives me a sense of accomplishment to learn my way around a rail transit system.

Though not as large and extensive as the New York City subway, the Metrorail was cleaner, and the trains were pretty much on time (there are screens that tell you how many minutes before the train arrives on the platform). The station closest to where I was staying was called Dunn Loring, and it took about 45 minutes to Metro Center riding the orange train (you can follow my path on the map above, hahaha). It was relatively easy to get the hang of it, and I made note of the directions to Chinatown, where I would take the bus to go home to New York the next day. Chinatown in DC is just one stretch of H street (or is it 7th?) marked by this archway.

First on my stop was the National Portrait Gallery. I love portraits and one of my life's dreams is to pose for a four by seven foot painting before I die. A bit narcissistic, yes, and a bit difficult to display in my rather small apartment. While I was unable to view all of the paintings on display in the gallery, I had a lot of fun in the Civil War section. I was finally able to put faces to names like Jefferson Davis, Daniel Webster, William Sherman, Stonewall Jackson, and Pierre Beauregard. The portraits were arranged as if the display was telling a story. It inspired me to read up on the causes and the personages of the American Civil War (huge task, considering my only education on the Civil War was reading Gone With the Wind). Other points of interest included an exhibit on Katherine Hepburn and the Origins of America. Here is a sampler of portraits from the NPG.

Before I went back to NYC, I had to make a stopover at the National Gallery of Art, if only to refresh my memory of the paintings that were on display there. They have a large collection of impressionists and post-impressionists (which are the only paintings that interest me by the way--I have no patience for modern art) and while I was unable to take pictures of them this time, I have pictures here from my previous visit (BEWWWWWWW!). Love how you are allowed to bring an easel in to paint--this would have never happened at the Met.

As I was leaving D.C. on the Chinatown bus (hey! only $35 round trip!), I realized that I had forgotten to check the schedule of the National Opera at the Kennedy Center. My fave Placido Domingo is the director of the National Opera, and he has occasional performances, both as singer and conductor. Oh well, I hope to remember next time. And to remember to bring that freaking camera!