We were lucky to be put up at the Mandarin, a 5 star hotel on the tidal basin. We didn't mind staying just off the beaten path because we brought our walking shoes and a map, and we intended to use them.
The best way to really get to know a city is on foot after all. There is so much to see, do and learn in this bustling metropolis. It seems that every destination is a museum filled with artifacts, history and information, but there are plenty of places to enjoy green space in the midst of so much marble, cement and stone.
The 624 acres that make up Arlington National Cemetery are a holy oasis on the other side of The Potomac. The sun was shining, the birds singing and the cherry blossoms still blossoming much to our delight. It was a beautiful, warm early spring day, but I got serious chills when the sentinels performed a wreath laying at the Tomb of the Unknowns. One guard played Taps on the bugle and my heart swelled with such protective pride as the song sounded through the almost silent air. The stillness was interrupted by the roaring engines of an airplane heading for Reagan. I found myself remembering the soldiers known only to God and everyone touched by 9/11. 
It also makes me proud to pay tribute to our founding father's and other great leaders who followed in their foot steps. Although this is as close as we got to Jefferson's monument, the bibliophile in me preferred to be up close to some of his over 6,000 books housed in the Library of Congress. I have much respect for a man who says, I cannot live without books.
But I must confess that before I bring my kids to Washington D.C., I need to do some solid refreshing...sadly so much have I learned and forgotten over the years.
I'm ever grateful for Jose' Andreas. We most enjoyed the bacon wrapped fried dates at Jaleo, and every one of our 4 courses at Zatinya, but especially the pillowy pita bread and the spanokopita and the egg plant and the desserts that sure didn't look like much, but were delicious and, thus gone.
The eggs Chesapeake at Old Ebbitt Grill was also worth the walk and the wait.I think the Holocaust Museum had the biggest impact on me. You are my witnesses. Isaiah 43:10. Yes, we are. I am. I'll never forget the piles of shoes or how haunting the smell of candles burning in the Reflection Room was after just reading about the gas chambers.
And as is always the case when I go away...I'm thankful for coming home. It's big fun to see the world, but my little home is where my heart is.
No comments:
Post a Comment