Day Four - Washington DC Road Trip & My first Chili Dog

Today I am 40 years old... What am I going to do on this monumental birthday? A day when - it used to be said when you had a family in your early twenties - life begins at (because, theoretically your children had left home by the time you are 40). Although this only seems to be the case if you are from a sink estate in Essex and are a regular guest on the Jeremy Kyle show or other such White Trash programmes. What have Diane & Frank got planned for me today?

Roadtrip! RoadTrip! Roadtrip! Roadtrip!

Actually, it is our scheduled visit of two days in Washington DC - the Nation's Capital. A 300 mile drive (there or thereabouts) that is going to take us a good few hours to get too (5 hours and 15 minutes according to Google Earth) across several states and numerous county lines.

It was a long trip...

...

... that was only interrupted by my first chili dog at the equivalent of a motorway service station somewhere on the new Jersey Turnpike. An experience I can only say that I would not like to repeat. They look like roadkill and - I would assume - taste no better. As well as the crossing of the Delaware River - made famous by George Washington.

We arrived at our motel that was just in the state of Virginia around 5:00pm and decided to have a rest for an hour or so before heading out to visit the Memorials by twilight.

I have to admit that the Lincoln Memorial is a inspiring building, the overly familiar statue of President Lincoln looking almost regal & benign surveying the populace that come to grace this hallowed hall with almost beatific countenance. It is a reverential place - a celebration of everything that is potentially good in the United States of America - in memory of one of the most visionary & determined leaders the country had. On either side of the statue are inscriptions of his most famous speeches, The Gettysburg Address, and his second inaugural speech as President of the United States - more inspiring than The Gettysburg Address and it was given just days before the formal end of the American Civil War and instead of being full of jingoism and sabre rattling at the impending victory of the southern state he speaks of the sadness and loss that the conflict has brought the nation and his ultimate belief that all men are created equal under the eyes of God regardless of race, creed or colour.

Unfortunately the reverential atmosphere is completely lost on the herds of high school children and bus-loads of overweight & badly dressed American tourists who flocked to the Memorial at night and overwhelm the building with their inane chattering, loud reciting of the speeches and general bad manners to fellow visitors.

Sitting on the steps of the Memorial Frank and I had a discussion on what Lincoln represents to the USA and its people. To Frank it was about power; who had it and who wanted it. To me it was about belief; all men are created equal. I think both points or view are valid, however I am inclined to think that Lincoln was a man of principal and not power - well, that's the fantasy anyway.

All in all, the Lincoln Memorial is one of the representations of the good the USA could do - as with the wording of on the Statue of Liberty. It depicts a purity of thought that is lost in today's society. It is a refreshing change to the Americana that the world is subjected to on a daily basis - a forcing of culture (or lack thereof) on the world - and a bullying mentality that will eventually be its downfall.

I am glad I took the time to visit it - it reignited my faith in the human condition.

The Washington Monument - an obelisk of granite - lies directly a head of the Lincoln Memorial and the optical illusion of the Reflecting Pool (I was tempted to run through the pool shouting "Forrest! Forrest!") is very clever. I was sat on the same steps where Dr Martin Luther King Jr gave his most famous speech following the "March on Washington" in August 1963 - almost 100 years after the end of the American Civil War and the abolition of slavery under the Thirteenth Amendment of the Constitution of the United States of America (an amendment that was not formally ratified by the state of Kentucky until 1970 and the state of Mississippi until 1995). It is difficult to believe that the civil rights of some individuals are still abused in the United States based upon their skin colour - it may not be common knowledge but it still happens in some of the southern states.

As the Memorial Park become too crowded with over enthusiastic Americans we decided to retire for the evening and find somewhere to eat. With Frank repeatedly telling us we were no longer in New York and these provincial towns will shut a 10:00pm - he is such a New Yorker - we drove to Georgetown, a north west suburb of Washington DC and reputedly a rather high end and fashionable place to eat (according to Diane). We parked, walked a while in the oppressive heat - did I tell you DC is built on a swamp? No? Well if you don't like humidity & midges the I would suggest you avoid it. Eventually finding a Sushi restaurant where I would be celebrating my 40th birthday in style over some warm sake.

Ah, sushi - Diane & Frank's favourite food and something I had not tasted sober before.

Not an experience I want to repeat either as it seems to be a acquired taste and I generally like my food to be hot and I am able to name the animal it came from in at least 1 out 3 occasions. The nearest experience I can get to it is when I was very young my brother thought it would be a good idea to force my head into a rock pool at the seaside and make me eat the contents - it tasted exactly like that rock pool... I endured it for Diane and promised to give it another go when I returned to Blighty.

After being ejected from the restaurant at about 11:00pm we absconded to an faux Irish Bar & I preceded to drink Guinness like there was no tomorrow to get the taste of the bloody sushi from my throat - it worked too... eventually... I was chatted to a very nice black woman who loved my accent and graciously allowed me to cadge cigarettes from her, I eyed up some DC hotties that came into the bar from whatever high powered federal job they did (tea making, photocopying, type & file) and eventually dragged back to the car an locked in my room until morning.

Day two of our adventure in the Nations Capital was going to be a busy one...

Day Three - Manhattan, it is actually quite large you know...

This is it, the day I have been waiting for. All the years of watching television and cinema - the most photographed city in the world and the scene of the greatest terrorist atrocity ever witnessed - I was finally going to have a wander around Manhattan Island. I was very curious as to what I would feel about the City That Never Sleeps; the familiarity of the buildings; the feel of the streets; the sound of the city; the look of the people; the taste of the hot dogs.

It is only about an hours drive from where I was staying and the the time difference was still upsetting my body clock but I was surprisingly excited by the journey in. Jumping into Diane's Nissan (this time, as Frank wouldn't risk the Mustang in NYC and after a while I couldn't blame him) we were on our way. I'll forgo the commentary on our conversations during all the trips, one thing I did discover is that everything in the USA is considerably further away than you think and conversation becomes limited after a while - thank you to 92.3 K-Rock (The Rock of New York) and the iPod plug-in! Needless to say Diane & I caught up with each other and I learned more about Frank because I'd only ever met him one before when he came to the UK many years ago.

Anyway, impressions of the Manhattan skyline from the George Washington Bridge? Amazing. Although you do feel like something is really missing when you see it. The WTC Twin Towers were such an imposing sight on photographs and even though it had been 7 years since the atrocities the image of the towers and the sight of them falling leaves a deep impression on you. But more about that later, when I visit Ground Zero. Driving in to the city I did have to laugh at an NY PD station in Queens that was right next door to a Dunkin' Doughnut shop.

The skyline is impressive and I have to say I was blown away by the sight of it all in one go. From the Empire State Building to the Chrysler Building. It is a very awe inspiring sight. But once we got into Manhattan the fun really begins. Just don't talk to me about traffic! How the hell do people drive in there? Why do they bother? I can see why more people decide to take Subway because I don't think I would trust a New York Taxi Cab. Maniacs. Absolute psychopaths on the road, with our fear or guilt about who they cut up and then the pull out. Hats off to Diane, if I was driving I would not have moved more than a block or two before abandoning the car in the middle of the road and waiting for it to be towed away.

We eventually made it through town to the area new the Empire State Building - a surprise to me because it is not in what they call Downtown - and found private off-road parking for a reasonable price of one of my kidneys and Diane's left arm. We wandered around a few blocks so I could take in the sights, smells and noise of the city although I was told that New Yorkers do not (1) walk on the subway gratings and do a Marilyn Monroe, (2) bump into people unless they want to get sued (3) raise their heads above shoulder level to look at the buildings. So this marked me out as a tourist immediately.

Because of the height of all the buildings in Manhattan you fail to get a real sense of scale with anything - yes everything is bigger in the USA but that does not necessarily make it better - however when you turn the corner of a block and see the Empire State Building for the first time you cannot fail to be impressed. It stands out like an art deco behemoth, 1,453 feet & 8 9/16 inches or 443.20 metres tall and 102 storeys with the antennae on top, completed in 1931 and on a clear day you are able to see the states of New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Connecticut and Massachusetts from the outside observation deck. But not one mention in all the literature that it was actually constructed by the Dalek Cult of Skaro - the only Daleks to ever have names (Dalek Cann, Jast, Sek & Thay) - you would think it was common knowledge wouldn't you?

The building itself is undergoing restoration in the common areas and queuing seemed to be the order of the day, although we had pre-paid for tickets over the Internet so our queue time was dramatically reduced. But our bags were searched and we were x-rayed (something I eventually got used to, as well as ensuring I carried my passport around with me at all time just in case some NY PD cop thought I looked like a terrorist) and having our mandatory official picture taken on a green screen back drop which, when you think about it, is also a good money earner for unsuspecting red-necks and a handy security measure as EVERYONE had to "pose" for the photograph (available at the exit for seventeen bucks a pop). Then there was the elevator to the 82nd floor, beautifully art deco crafted; another queue and chance to flog some merchandise, and then to elevator to the 86th floor outdoor observation deck.

Much has been written already about the view from the observation deck - it has been featured in many movies, notably Sleepless in Seattle - but the view is impressive and you appreciate the scale of the whole of Manhattan Island which is a lot larger than you think. From looking north to Central Park, Park Avenue and the rich people, to looking east towards the other art deco beauty The Chrysler Building, then west towards New Jersey and south towards Downtown, the WTC site and the Statue of Liberty. We happy snapped for an hour in between the bustle of the crowds some of whom annoyingly using the audio tour headphones and as such were crowed in different corners at different times whilst some unknown, yet fingers down a blackboard, voice intoned the various facts & figures, views and opinions on the building and the observable cityscape. I was surprised to find that Frank - almost a native New Yorker - had only been up the Empire State Building once or twice in his life and always as a part of some school tour. I suppose that when one lives with such a familiar landmark all their life the familiarity reduces it to the background and something you never really think about.

Anyway, we had a 3:00pm appointment with the Liberty Island Ferry and a trip to the most iconic monument in American history - the Statue of Liberty.

Another chase through Manhattan following Broadway all the way down to Battery Park. A white knuckle ride of jumping lanes, turning right on red, avoiding pedestrians, stop-start clutch grating never out of first gear driving by Diane who took it all in her stride with me whimpering in the passenger seat still feeling awkward with the realisation that I should have a steering wheel in front of me in this seat. Another hunt for private parking and the realisation that I can't give my other kidney so it will have to be my spleen this time so we can afford to park - should have used the subway or risked (I can't believe I am actually saying this) a taxi cab. But we made it, with time to spare and a good job too because the queue for the 3 o'clock ferry was horrendous; more queuing, more security, take your shoes off, take your belt off, waddle through this x-ray machine and try not to let you jeans fall to your knees; mill around in a seething mass of bodies mixing it with the great American unwashed to then be herded onto the ferry like cows into the slaughter house, run up the gangway,fight through the crowd to get a good view, find a seat and relax...

I am ready for a 15 minute ferry ride across the mouth of the Hudson River on a rickety old boat and I get seasick very easily - not one of my brightest requests for a sightseeing visit. But, once again, the Manhattan skyline makes me realise it was all worth it. Even more impressive from the sea the skyline appears slowly as the ferry pulls away from Battery Park to Liberty Island and once again I fail to grasp the size of Manhattan as Liberty Island is a lot further out into Hudson Bay than you imagine from movies and television. There is no sense of perspective on the screen that can quite match actually being there in the flesh, so to speak. Statten Island, Ellis Island (not going there today as it doesn't really interest me), the New Jersey shore line and the industrial docklands that make you remember that New York is a seaport are all visible to you as the ferry approaches from the north side of the island, skirts around to the south side and gives you an impressive view of Liberty herself before docking at the wooden jetty and being herded off again like cattle.

"Bring me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, temptest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Designed and built by the French in 1886 (no wonder the bronze has tarnished - you can never trust anything built by the French) The Statue of Liberty in the epitome of the United States of America and the great American Dream were anything is possible for anyone who wants to live in the Land of the Free. But sadly turned into a tourist trap and what once was true in the scripture is no longer true today and the only people welcome in America are people who are born in America, to American parents, worshipping the American God of Christian Fundamentalism - all other races can please queue at the gates & hopefully get a job in the black economy cleaning your house.

But, I digress... as usual.

Tickets were sold out to go into the statue itself but according to Frank it wasn't that an impressive tour anyway so we made do with wandering around Liberty Island and having a well earned snooze and happy snap session - some tourist shots, some arty shots and some genuinely weird shots of hisidic Jewish hats and park rangers on segways. The souvenir store was suitably tacky and the food kiosks looked suitably inedible and harbours of e-coli & salmonella so we ignored our hunger pangs and waited until we were back on the mainland. Then, herded back to the ferry because the Island was closing (it was 4:30pm - in the City that never sleeps), we mooed, baaed and clucked our way up the jetty and tried not to get into the queue for the Statten Island ferry, but to grab a decent stop to get more happy snap views of the Island as we left and more photos of the approaching Manhattan and Battery Park.

Disembark; Force your way through the throng; remember who your boat buddy was; congregate in a known area; eat your first hot dog off a street vendor; look around Battery Park; laugh at the unemployed actors pretending to be "living statues"; ogle the hot NYC women & try to snap a picture off before they realise; walk past a memorial to the WTC; find the car; go to eat...

More terror on the roads as we try to find a camera store; left at the side of the road by your best friend as they try to find another place to park; hang around on a street corner looking as inconspicuous as possible. Shop; Coffee in Starbucks; decided where we are going to eat; Back in the car; White knuckles; Off to Greenwich Village (again); wander around looking for a suitable restaurant; order what Frank orders (a burger - medium, hold the relish) and relax and enjoy Greenwich Village at night.

Greenwich Village, the coolest address in Manhattan and a very bohemian feel to it; lots of boutiques selling vintage clothes, cafe bars and restaurants, bars and clubs. Once again I notice the American attitude to customer service and have a long discussion with Frank of the nature of forced tipping after a meal regardless of whether you enjoyed it or not. We wander around Washington Square (I am Legend) and take in a few bars, the local beer is awful and I tend to stick to Guinness - smoking is not allowed in public buildings so I strike up conversations with random strangers who are attracted to my "funny British" accent and are fellow lepers in the Land of the Free. No numbers are exchanged but goodwill prevails and best wishes are given and received as I notice is has gone midnight and I am 40 years old...

Time to retire and a long drive home - more to follow on my birthday and the Nation's Capital is calling for our presence. Another busy day ahead of us... will Diane let my feet touch the ground?