Frozen Fish

Well, we did it. The Bigun is now in the nation's capital and I'm safely home.

It was really kind of funny.

Flying over, we noticed this alien white substance covering parts of the earth below, and kept nudging each other and looking out the window in wonder, pondering what it could be. Once on the ground, we learned they call it snow. And it was cold. We arrived at the hotel and the Bigun promptly threw herself down in it.

She was desperate to see something of the city before her official tour started, so we planned to go downtown to see what we could. Did I rent a car? No I did not. Fish decided to take the plunge and rely on public transportation. Of course, the Bigun wanted to take a taxi. We did, back to the airport, after which DD swore up and down she would never take one again in her life. Especially since she had to pay for it.

The airport has a handy bus that takes you to West Falls Church, where you can hop the train into town. Unfortunately, it's $14 round trip. Still, she was desperate to see things, so we hopped on, after consulting the map and trying to decide on a destination. The Bigun needed headphones, and decided she would purchase them at the National Mall. When I tried explaining it's not that kind of mall, she pipes up "How do YOU know?"

When we got to the bus station, however, we didn't realize that we had to cough up more dough for a ride on the metro. Silly Texas bumpkins! So train passes purchased we plunged underground.

And came up at 8:30 right under the Washington Monument, staring across at the Capitol building. Oh my stars, that right there was worth the price of admission. But at this point, it's 28 degrees and a little breezy, we're in clothes designed to take the chill off Texas evenings, not frigid nights off the Tidal Basin, and we've been up for 12 highly stressful hours. Does this daunt Fish and the Bigun?

No it does not, though Fish definitely was feeling some affinity by this time for a box of Gorton's seafood in the grocery store.

On we trudge to the Monument. And beyond. Nobody is out and about walking in downtown; people have sense and drive here. The only people we see are security guards near the White House and a guy sleeping on a subway grate outside the Elipse. But, dangit, we're THERE.

And then, we're heading back to the Metro station, deciding that if we gawk much longer, we'll miss the last bus from WFC. So we're wandering near the EPA building trying to find the Metro station, and here are dozens of people milling about! Look, Bigun! People in Downtown!

They have lights, huge lights, and headsets, and big coats, and look! There's a... commisary cart? Oh, Lord, we've stumbled on to a movie set! No, we didn't get our big break either. We shuffled out of there as quickly as possible, and ran to the elevator. I mean, neither of us think a movie set outside the EPA building would be anything we'd want to be associated with.

So back to the train, and under Foggy Bottom and all to the WFC station, where the subway pass has DEMAGNETIZED and won't let DD out. Sigh. The perturbed station attendant, who had had to explain just WHY we had to fork out extra dough earlier to ride the thing, won't let her off without scanning that ticket minutely. And the damned bus is WAITING outside! I tell you, this was not my first notion that I wasn't in Texas anymore, but it was certainly the most glaring example of the fact that People Are Different Outside The South. And by that I mean the Real South, not this I'm-a-hop-skip-and-jump-away-from-New-York South.

So back on the bus, and back to the airport and then to the shuttle (after a half hour wait in the cold!) to the hotel, where Fish promptly gives the Bigun her room service order, and goes to soak in hot water.

Conclusions: I hate public transportation. And I loved seeing, however briefly, the capital. And the smile on the Bigun's face when we emerged from the station near the Smithsonian was worth every last moment of suffering. Yes, baby, I'd even get pneumonia for you and do it all again.

Next, we'll talk about Dulles. Oh, yes, we will.