Day 2! I started with a half mile walk to Tatte Bakery & Cafe at the City Center, in the rain (and so I bought an umbrella at Walgreens and thankfully not too wet today), passing the toniest of stores such as Tiffany jewelry and Brioni suits. And sure enough breakfast was among those business-attired professionals. I ordered the Sausage Breakfast Sandwich: Sujuk-spiced (I thought it was just cumin)beef sausage with a poached egg, Vermont cheddar and tomato on a housemade challah roll. OMFG delicious. So too was my decaf Americano.
Onward to the museums. On the way, I passed the Waldorf Astoria, which I remember my Lyft driver saying was formerly owned by Donald Trump. It is grand, but ugh, did DJT really get to turn the old Post Office into his hotel? Boggles my mind, and now it's owned by the Hiltons.
Ahh, the home of the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights!
And irony of ironies. Here's a homeless person nearby. There's #vanlife, but no one posts #shoppingcartlife. Minutes later I approached my destination. Yes, the National Gallery of Art, and I think I entered the 7th Street entrance.
What is this building? Is it the Supreme Court building? Or the Department of Justice building?
Or is it the National Archives? I can't tell from the side.
And of course I was intrigued by the statues. I love the quote, "What is past is prologue." History sets the context for the present. And so she is the statue at the National Archives. And why an Art Deco statue of a muscular man wrestling a horse in front of the Federal Trade Commission building? Was this commissioned during the 1930s? How is the horse representative of trade? Regulation versus unbridled markets.
Okay I'm going to have to read these excerpts on American history later.
I took a fuckload of photos. Maybe too many. Maybe not. But I'm not wanting yet to post them to this blog. My legs and back were sore after miles of walking after touring both the West and then the East building of the National Gallery of Art. And so here's what happened afterward. I exited the East building and saw a lone red taxi outside. I asked for a ride to the Wharf. Spied the National Museum of the Indian American...
I got off at the National Mall which was just a few blocks from the National Gallery of Art and thence a few more blocks from my hotel.
Arrived at the Wharf and made a beeline for the fish market and rounded the corner...
This is my kind of seafood place. No pretension, just pounds and pounds of fresh fish from the sea.
Here's where I went first.
At the raw bar, I tried raw clams for the first time. They were delicious, but I think I would have enjoyed it with a mignonette.
While eating my clams, I watched these Asian men buy giant crab claws.
Alas I did not eat blue crab on this trip.
After eating outdoors, I then went to this second oyster bar I wanted to try.
The oysters were delicious, and first I drank the Chardonnay and then the house white which was a Vinho Verde.
Just like at Hank's Oyster Bar, I ordered an oyster po'boy. It was not as delicious as the one I ate at Hank's. The oysters were dinky and was just the flavor of fried, and I didn't like that the coleslaw was in the sandwich rather than on the side like at Hank's though I liked the choice of a French roll rather than a butter-toasted split hot dog roll.
While looking for the souvenir shop, I watched canoe paddlers warming up and viewed a ferry ship.
I found the gift and jewelry store and wished I had stopped in the independent bookstore Politics and Prose instead. And it's right by the headquarters of my favorite periodical.
I walked as far as the auditorium where plays are performed and then returned to the free shuttle stop.
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