I left the airport, bags in hand, well, three bags and one box (with my bike in it!). I crept upon the taxi line, not sure whether such an excess amount of baggage could fit into one of the small four-door taxis. They hailed a van for me, "they" being the taxi valet. I put my things in, careful not to shift the taxi's broken back handle. The driver was silent, a black man with a grey crispy beard. I was tired and was comfortable to keeping silent. The drive was pleasant, passing overgrown trees and brick fences. I stared out the window, each moving thing creating a slideshow in my brain. The history coming alive in front of my eyes. I saw the Washington Monument in the background, the spire jetting up like a giant thumb, pointing towards our destination. Things meshed together, things came fast and went fast. The age of the city was evident while modern elements took me by surprise; the rubbed-down marble stone next to the torn down billboards gave contrast to the outstretching vale of green and grey. It was magical and moving to be in such a place, "The Nation's Capital". I remember hearing the flight attendant saying that as I exited the plane. I also remember myself repeating it, saying to my self, "I am at the Nation's Capital. Outstanding!"
Upon arriving to the apartments, I felt a new sense of energy. Our doorman, Harold I think his name was, tried rushing over to help me with my things but spilled his coffee because of my startled entrance. He eventually cleaned up and helped me along my way, giving me a key to the room, a key to the building and a key to my mailbox. I was shown up to my room, with a grand tour of the building. I guess I was the only one to receive this grand tour because people in my intern cohort continue to ask me where things are or what we can do. I unpacked my things and set everything precisely in it's place. The previous tenants had left some food in the pantry, so I likened to the New England Clam Chowder and ate it for myself, partly in celebration for being close enough to New England that it was just as good as tasting it. Yum!
After my meal, I was off on a bike ride. I grabbed the reins of my bike and took off, riding up Van Ness Avenue until I decided to take a left, turning into a right, turning into a left, then deciding I was lost for the first time in this new home of mine. I heard chirping in the trees and the thick air seemed thicker now that I was perspiring in it. I ran into spots fit to remember: Old houses with father's playing with children, tennis courts being used with eager tennis players, and on the corner of Wisconsin and Macomb, I found a restaurant that was packed with people. It's name was Cactus Cantina, I guess a favorite of former VP Dick Cheney. ha. I've decided that I must go there to eat someday soon. The enchiladas looked divine. I eventually, after doing many U-turns found myself on Connecticut Ave, the one that eventually leads right to my apartment on Van Ness. I arrived back exhausted and ready for sleep. My bed was made and I was ready for my first night's rest in the Nation's Capital.
'Til tomorrow. Adieu.