DC in a day

So we went and saw the big white house, and we saw Abe’s silhouette (too many people up close: don’t you hate tourists?), and then we shared a pretzel on the way back to the station. Long before we got there (and it was hot walking), we noticed a little buggy parked on the side of the road advertising a free shuttle service, so we went and asked how to qualify. He said he would take us wherever we wanted to go, so we said how about the Spy Museum and he said sure.

We strapped ourselves onto the back, and sped through the streets of DC waving at the townsfolk and the tourists alike, all of whom seemed to find the sight of us quite amusing.

At the Spy Museum we decided not to shell out $18 for a tour, so bought a silly thing or two in the shop and then went on our way looking for a cold beer and rest for weary feet. The philosophe had the Brickskeller in mind, where they serve over 1000 beers in a bottle (!!), and that seemed like a good idea, but when we got there, they were closed.

So we trundled on to Georgetown, where I fantasised about finding a nice little spot by the river for a spot of food and drink. Alas, it was not to be, and we ended up with greasy take-aways on grubby steps outside a mall that no-one was in. I did, however, have a taste of the philosophe’s Philly cheese steak sandwich, famed to be an American classic, and it was pretty good (better than my springroll).

At long last home after busses and Metros and a cappuccino from Krispy Kreme (where I witnessed doughnut holes for the first time), the evening’s culinary adventures were more promising. Think Monday night lobster special at Timbuktu on Coca Cola Drive. That was us, and the lobster was red, hot, and very good.

Mission Americana Culinanaria is going swimmingly, in other words. And it may have reached a summit this very afternoon, back in the country, where we had lunchtime burgers at the Sunshine Gas Station. These mamas looked, felt and tasted like what all the fast food places promise with their misleading photographs, and the Sunshine looks like it probably hasn’t updated its menu (nor much else) since some time in the 50s. I don’t think it gets more authentic than that, and now that it’s done, I won’t need to have another burger anywhere again.

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