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It's true that everything is bigger in America. Even Paris. That's right. Washington DC is Paris, on a bigger scale. The architect of DC, Pierre Charles L'Enfant, was commissioned by George Washington to design the new capital in 1791. The French born artist and architect came to America to fight in the Revolutionary War and never went home.
The Paris of the USA, Washington DC
All the history aside, Washington DC is visually stunning. There are so many museums to see, and yet, to walk the streets, is just as interesting. Some of the highlights include the Capitol, the Treasury, the various presidential memorials, the Smithsonian museums and of course, the White House.
The White House, home of the US President, Washington DC
Touring the Capitol is worth the effort. I booked in for September 10 - the day after Obama's speech to Congress on the Health Care Reform package, when the Capitol was closed to the public, and the day before 9/11. So, security was tight. But, the Capitol Tour provides you with an insight into the US political process. The standard tour is interesting, but the real stuff happened on the Brumidi Tour, which takes you into the painted corridors, decorated by the Italian artist Constantino Brumidi. I only found out about this tour because one of the Capitol guides recommended it to me.
The dome of the US Capitol, painted by Constantino Brumidi
Michael was our guide for the Brumidi Tour and he clearly knew his politics. He filled us in on all the gossip from the day before when Obama was heckled in Congress by South Carolina Congressman Joe Wilson. While on our behind the scenes tour, a pack of journalists emerged from Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi's office. I snapped a picture of her from two metres away. Another celebrity sighting!
Nancy Pelosi, Speaker of the House, US Congress
September 28th 2009 07:22
New York never sleeps. The ideal place for a girl who has become accustomed to late nights, cocktails and neon lights.
In Washington DC and San Francisco, I felt a little nervous on the streets after dark but not in NYC. The place is teeming with people. Business takes place around the clock. I had my nails done at 10pm on a Sunday night for $12.
That's the other conundrum about New York. Some things are cheap, others very expensive. The nails might have been a bargain but the waxing cleaned me out.
There is so much to see and do in New York it's overwhelming. It is tempting to just sit down at a diner and eat till you die. I was still sticking to my American diet, however, where you only ever eat half your meal.
The highlight of New York is Central Park. They say it's the lifeblood of the city and I agree. It is the heart of it all - and no matter where you walk you seem to end up there. I began my New York visit with a run through the park in the rain. The next day, I saw it at a more leisurely pace, from the back of a pedi-cab. The place captured my heart.
New York across Central Park
I'm sure I will be pilloried by cultured folk from around the globe for only going to one Museum - the Metropolitan - but the truth is, New York is one big museum. Just riding around on the subway is a cultural experience. In any other country, buskers this good would be on scholarships at the Conservatorium of Music or winning Australian Idol. I saw gospel singers, one man bands, hip hop artists, acrobats and much more.
The Met was indeed impressive. Part art gallery, part history museum, I could have gone back every day for a month and not seen it all. My favourite was a modern Italian painter called Modigliani.
Italian modern artist Modigliani, at the Met
The rest of the time I spent wandering around - Staten Island, over the Brooklyn Bridge to Brooklyn's Dumbo area, and downtown.
The Staten Island Ferry
The luckiest moment of my trip came when I was ambling through the West Village. There was a crowd of people jostling for position, a street was blocked off and NYPD was swarming. "What's happening?" I asked.
"President Obama is having lunch with President Clinton," came the reply.
"Cool," I thought to myself. A brush with celebrity. I walked on, sure that lunch would take hours. Indeed, a few hours later, after another lunch where I left half of it on my plate, I was walking in Greenwich Village. Suddenly, I was trapped by metal barricades and couldn't cross the road. "What should I do?" I asked the policeman.
"Just wait," he said.
A few minutes later, 18 police motor cycles drove down the street, followed by two black secret service cars. Then, two limousines with US flags flying.
I looked through the window of the limo, three metres away from me and there's Barack Obama, waving to me as if I'm the only one there. Unforgettable.
President Obama drives by after lunch with Bill Clinton
Later in the week, I saw Mamma Mia at the Winter Garden Theatre. Standing room cost $20 a ticket. The view was excellent and each person had a numbered place to stand. I laughed and cried, especially at the bad Australian accent assumed by one of the actors. A truly memorable evening.
At first I stayed on the Upper Westside, a comfortable residential neighbourhood with good value hotels. The Hotel Belleclaire gives you a large room for New York with new furniture and a decent bathroom for about $250 a night.
I am a magnet for scaffolding though. Cafe Claude in SF was literally encased in scaffolding while I watched on. When I arrived at the Hotel Belleclaire I was unsurprised that the exterior was completely obscured by metal.
The next hotel I went to, The President in mid town, near Times Square, was also being renovated. I managed to rent the smallest room ever, with the worst shower in the world. Every day I would stand in ankle deep in water during my shower, while the water refused to do anything other than trickle down the plug hole. All this for about $300 a night. But it was right in the heart of things, so I put up with it.
On my last night I splurged. The Waldorf Astoria on Park Avenue. What a night I chose. As I checked in, reception informed me that the hotel was hosting the 64th UN Congress. They also upgraded me to a suite which was four times the size of my room in the last hotel.
The place was full of politicians and royalty from around the world. African women looking regal in colourful outfits and hundreds of security guys talking into their sleeves. The Australian Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd was speaking there a day after I left.
So, I pretended I was famous too, just for one night. I was convinced, even if no-one else was.
September 11th 2009 00:09
San Francisco is a great city, but they go to bed early. This week I scored a world first – kicked out of three bars at closing time, all before 2am. The spirit of this trip is ‘do no planning’, which is all very spontaneous, but can leave you high and dry. I have learned that sometimes it pays to be prepared…
After a day of exploring the city, I drop into Bloomingdales but don't get much service dressed in shorts, t-shirt and joggers. So, I decide to tart up and hit the shops, which are open till 8.30pm. I never make it that far, getting trapped by a very smooth salesman right outside Bloomingdales, who manages to sell me the most expensive face cream in the world. Right now, only 24 hours after owning it I have actually regressed to childhood. You won’t recognise me, unless you knew me when I was 10. Really. It should be called reincarnation cream, it’s so good. I hope it’s good enough to eat, because I can’t afford to buy any more food for the rest of the trip.
So, super salesman recommends a nice restaurant nearby, but I get lost, wandering into what is the dodgiest part of San Francisco at night, near the Civic Centre. It takes about 3 minutes for all my solo travel bravery to evaporate. No doubt the choice of the skinny jeans and long boots didn’t help to make me invisible. I jump on the first tram back to the hotel, except I’m freaking out so much, I miss the stop and have to walk two extra blocks with that big sign on my head saying “please harass me for money/sex/my boots.”
By now it is the frighteningly late time of 9pm and I’m back at the hotel. I’ve decided to wimp out and grab dinner from the little French bistro in Claude Lane, near the Hotel des Arts. It’s called Café Claude. (www.cafeclaude.com)
You’d think it would be full of French people (and you know I love the Gauls), but no, not one. Fortunately, it is even better. Yes, Italians. Romans, even. Alessandro Piazza, the manager, treats me like a princess on my first attempt at solo dining, seating me near a nice British couple, then proceeding to send a steady stream of kind (and quite attractive) waiters to attend to me. David the bartender (from Uruguay) made me two delicious cocktails. My food was divine – a selection of vegetarian side dishes I was desperate for, after three days of the meat diet – and followed with a perfect macchiato.
Anyone who knows me can see where I’m going with this. Coffee at 11pm means there’s no way I’m going to bed. Café Claude closes, so a few people from Claude’s head to a Basque restaurant/bar across the lane, Gitane. (www.gitanerestaurant.com) Another cocktail and then it’s closing time there too. Thank God for the Irish. Just up the road in Mark Lane, Irish Bank and Restaurant, complete with its own confessional, kicked on till after 1.30am. (www.theirishbank.com) And… that’s all folks. In San Francisco, you can’t buy a drink after 2am. It’s staggering really. Nothing left to do but go to bed. Still, it’s the only real criticism I have of this awesome city. I’ll never forget it.
San Francisco is a public transport lover's dream. Cable cars, street cars, electric buses, all accessible and even dog-friendly. I've been ridin' all over town. It's hard to believe that Jasper let me drive his historic cable car yesterday but I have the photo to prove it. I even got a lunch recommendation - Tommy's- with the most delicious roast beef sandwich I've ever had. Of course it was jumbo sized and I couldn't eat it all.
That's lesson one of eating in America - never eat it all. You will die
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My first overseas trip in business class is over. I was almost sad to actually arrive. It started off very well in the business lounge with a Chandon champagne, priority boarding and fast-tracked immigration.
At check-in I discovered that the Sydney - San Fransisco route no longer has first class, so the first class section has been kindly donated to business class. Seat 4K was on it's own, by the window. A fully flat bed meant even the worst sleeper in the world - me - had 7 hours of sweet dreams. My sleep was aided by French Champagne and a lovely Vasse Felix Semillon
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I'm heading to New York on Monday for two glorious weeks of solo travel. "You're going by yourself?" People are shocked/jealous/genuinely bewildered, but kindred spirits 'get it'. Travelling alone is scary and that, in itself, is the point.
It could be social death, to eat alone or start talking to yourself on the subway. But it's part of the challenge - finding the right balance between enjoying time out by yourself and meeting new people. Often when you travel with a friend or family, you're never forced to meet anyone at all. It's like transporting Australia to a foreign country. That's not my idea of travel
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In the USA they call it equally shared parenting. It means Mum and Dad, still together, looking after their kids equally. In Australia, mention the term shared parenting and you are automatically talking about divorced or separated families. Isn't that weird? The only people here doing equal shared parenting are actually doing it in separate houses.
Of course that's not true. There must be people in Australia living this way. In fact I know a few of them. But according to studies, most families in Australia still operate along traditional lines, with women doing most of the housework and child rearing. The added bonus is that many women now get to do paid work as well as running the home front
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Sussex Inlet (or 'Sussex Singlet' as my children call it) on the South Coast of NSW is still virtually undiscovered by 'big tourism' and thank goodness for that. It is as daggy* as Budgewoi was in 1982 (voted most daggy holiday destination in the all-important Dolly magazine.)
Daggy it may be, but pristine is another adjective I'd use. You can see from these recent photographs Sussex Inlet could easily be confused with a tropical island. Clear blue water, fine white sand and very few tourists
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What would you do if you found out you only had a year to live? How would you spend your time?
My father died when he was 56 and even before that, he was 'dying' for 10 years. In the back of my mind, I've never wanted to leave 'living' till I retire, just in case early death is hereditary
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Remembrance Day is so important. As the years pass and the number of World War One and Two veterans decreases, it's possible to lose touch with the enormous sacrifice these men made for Australia. Since then, many more soldiers have fought bravely in wars, some of which were extremely unpopular at home. This does not lessen the need to honour men and women who have fought to maintain Australia's freedom.
But what of those we fought against? We see in the popularity of Gallipoli tourism, that in post war times, we must engage with those who were once our enemies. Australians and Turks together maintaining a site of great significance to Australians
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Comment by christine Hillman Keyes
on Frequent flyer fiasco - have you ever been upgraded?
Travel Ramble
MumDad2Kids
He is probably a higher 'rank' of frequent flyer if he travels often overseas. Maybe that makes all the difference. I'm a lowly bronze or silver! You've given me hope, though. Maybe one day...