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So where was i, with the DC tales? Still obsessed with the city, and culture. Though really, that's where I am now. Minus the culture. I'd left off with the bad dreams, last time. Not just bad ones, but disturbing ones. Involving wrong turns, free falls into the abyss, firearms, collapsing buildings... all in separate vignettes. I can't imagine what it would have been like had i not been travelling alone... when it came time to vacate the hotel, every square inch of Miata boot was occupied by something. Cloth tops do not secure storage make. No matter. I leave the excursion with one particular epiphany... the subway is the only way to go. Not that you can be stupid, and not learn destinations by their terminus or color... but compared to the hell that is driving in a major city, it's tits. Meaning, it's a good thing. Arriving before things began, i enjoyed a clear head with which to focus... turning around, over my right shoulder were some familiar faces from the line crew from Buckingham. Nice to cross the paths of people you know in unexpected places. A much cooler day, in temperature and temperament. An hour or so immered in Glaswegian, another in Scottish tales of the Supernatural. And more in just wandering. Another day, and I'd probably wanted to stay. I rendezvoused with Slick just after two... and he was hungry. We agreed upon going to Union Station, a feast for the eyes and stomach. Soaring arches and ornament, huge spaces, and the echoing footfalls of travellers and disembodied train announcements. A place of motion. And cheap food... I'd never have guessed. And we moved, yet again... to the Irish pub across the street for a pint of draft Harp. I swear, if I'd have cut myself for the next two days afterwards, it would have had a head on it. More music. Then time to face the music. Tube ride back to the stop, and a futile wait for the shuttle that would never arrive. though the hotel did wind up paying for the taxi... and we'd checked out before noon. Top down at dusk, and the mad dash from beltway to interstate to country roads put it all in the rearview. And I didn't get bitched at... until two days later. But that was there, and now I'm here. Putting the lid on day 2... which featured the reacquaintance of my butt and bicycle seat... no more of this three-day sloth and muscle deterioration. Ahhhhh. Now I'm back up to date... here, fotolog, and timesheet. If I could just find the dosh to make another week of it... escape was essential. |
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