The glow from that fire can truly light the world.

News flash: Kieran and Matty made it to New Zealand after spending a night in the LA Hilton and a day on Venice Beach. It’s alright for some, while the rest of us are stuck here at work all day long. Oh, wait…

The train journey was fairly uneventful. I tried to stay awake to see how it looked, and for the most part I think I managed, although the inexplicable pain in my neck would make a lot more sense had I been asleep. The scenery was generally as expected, with countryside and suburban houses to infinity.

Union Station is nowhere near as large as you would expect, but still fairly grand, and the dome of the Capital Building is just about visible in the distance, which is a nice welcome to the city.

After a quick walk round that area enjoying the brilliant sun I made for the hostel. Their directions said either take a bus or get the metro. Unfortunately, the street on which I was supposed to catch the bus didn’t appear to be there, so I went for the metro instead.

Pop quiz: You’re naming the final stop on an underground line. Do you call it

1. Nice place with trees and sunshine and stuff.
2. Cedar Avenue.

Of the two, I’d go with number 2, although I recognise that the first option does have a sort of ridiculous charm about it. None of this matters though, because apparently if you’re from Washington D.C. you call it Shady Grove, which sounds unnecessarily ominous to me.

So, with my ticket bought, I headed towards the end of the world, safe in the knowledge that as long as I could see which stops we were at along the way, I could get off before it as required. And therein lies the main problem with the D.C. metro (aside from the feral ghoul infestations). It can be very hard to see the name of the station you’re at because it’s very dark. Points go to New York.

I checked in and went for a walk, as is rapidly becoming my MO. Even though I’d only been here for matter of minutes, I already felt like the city was calling to me.

That’s some Derren Brown shit right there. Seriously though, it’s already been very interesting seeing the difference between three American cities, and they’re all in the North East. The next few stops are going to be a remarkable culture shock.

I came across the National Archives and considered going in but thought better of it; there was a big queue and I didn’t want to waste the sunshine in case the thunder came. I continued on and ended up in a small park containing sculptures. It’s a shame there’s tape in the way to stop people from touching and climbing on them as it really detracts from the art. Still, I suppose it has to be done. There was jazz music playing so I headed for the source and found a large water feature in the middle. There was a stage but it was being covered as I arrived because it had just started to rain. I sat for a while before walking some more and before long I found myself at the Mall.

I left the Capital Building alone for now and sampled the festival celebrating children’s art. A young band were fairly impressive, and their Line 6 pedals reminded me why I want one.

From there I walked past a number of Smithsonian museums to the Washington Monument. There’s no way anyone could carry a satellite dish that far. Up close it’s very impressive and there are some interesting patterns in the stone. I decided I would come back when it was quieter for photos with no one else there. I carried on along the Mall to the WW2 memorial on the other side, and looking past it towards the Lincoln Memorial I had a nasty shock, which we will hear of again.

I left the Lincoln Memorial where it was because it would only have been full of people asking for favours and everyone knows there’s nothing that ruins a photo more than needy people en mass. Having spotted the White House I headed over.

I bet I’d have made it to the hedge.

So you’re aware, the uniformed Secret Service (an oxymoron if ever there was one) down on the road don’t like being photographed. At all. They made this so clear before I tried that I didn’t even think about it.

Well, maybe just a little.

It was time to return for food on the way to the Hostel, where I would meet up with some other people for a military band concert at the Capital Building. I tried a Five Guys burger joint which had been recommended to me by Paul in New York and it was certainly worth the money.

We set out after introductions but when we arrived we learned that the concert had been cancelled due to the weather forecast. Some of the group left, but Bonnie, who had just met up with us having got food on the way, stayed around to see the building at night and we chatted while I took photos as the sun started to set.

It took a long time to get any good shots because there were people all over it, but eventually the numbers thinned out and I asked the last few to move for a little while. They were so angry that when I managed to drop a filter and lens cap, they forced their children to help me look for them in the dark, on their hands and knees in the dew-soaked grass, in some sort of backwards act of revenge.

This is an earlier shot while it was still infested.

Once it was dark we made our way back to the hostel and I went to bed so I could get up at 5am in time for the sunrise.

I managed ten past, which wasn’t bad considering how little sleep I’ve had so far. I walked down to the Mall and was struck by how many people there were sleeping on the streets, in many cases with very few clothes. I suppose the climate at this time of year means that’s the sensible way of doing things. Other than the homeless there was hardly anyone about, and the Mall was very pleasant. It’s nice to see things a little differently.

I took some shots of the monument and carried on to the Lincoln Memorial. I was talking to the policemen who were at the top about the view and how I was disappointed that the Reflecting Pool had been dug up and one of them pointed out that I was witnessing history; it’s unlikely that this will happen again for a seriously long time, if ever again. It’s a good way of looking at it, I suppose. There have been a few other things which have been under repair that I’ve not been too bothered by, but I was really looking forward to seeing the view of the monument with the pool in the foreground. If this is anything to go by there’ll be scaffolding holding up the Grand Canyon.

As I made my way back to the hostel for breakfast I came across more and more joggers and rapidly increasing levels of traffic. I’ve always enjoyed watching big cities ‘wake up’ in the morning. After breakfast, Bonnie and I caught the metro to Arlington National Cemetery via the Post Office so she could send some belongings off. Now Bonnie was just over 6kg (and $100) worse off we proceeded to Arlington. Speaking of the metro, Bethesda did a really good job. No sign of the ghouls though.

Shortly after we arrived, Bonnie and I parted ways so I could do some photography and she could write in her journal. The weather was glorious from an ‘I’m on holiday in America and I want warm sunshine’ point of view, but sadly not so good in terms of photos. Still, I did what I could. Arlington is almost beautiful until you remember what it is and then it feels a bit like you’ve been punched in the chest. The graves seem to go on forever. I had a look round Arlington House, but I didn’t stay at the Kennedy grave and eternal flame for long because all of the people there reminded me of vultures.

At the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, I watched the changing of the guard and a wreath laying ceremony. The honor guard (sic) must be incredibly hot in all that gear.

After a little more time at Arlington I went for some food and then came home to book some accommodation. Here I was introduced to the somewhat interesting concept of an enquiry regarding availability being treated as a cast-iron booking. I e-mailed back to changed my dates just because I could. And because I wanted another night.

After that I spent a little while debating whether to go on the hostel pub crawl or go out to do some more photography and guarantee that I could get up in the morning. I decided I would socialise because I can photograph monuments any night but the pub crawl, a good opportunity to meet some more people, would only happen once while I was here.

After a great deal of delays and faffing around, we caught the bus to Dupont Circle. It’s very surreal stepping off a bus and almost immediately recognising the place you’ve arrived at even though you’ve neither been there nor seen a picture of it. That’s even more the case when you find that you’re cursing yourself for forgetting your pip-boy and scanning the horizon for super mutants and centaurs.

Obviously I met a lot of people, but I’m not going to list them here. This has nothing to do with the fact that I can’t remember all of their names. We went to a bar, supposedly for an hour, and left over two hours later. We had a sneaking suspicion the guide received a cheeky back-hander when we left, but we were having fun so it didn’t really matter. The next place we went to was a bit of a dive so a group of us left for a bar we’d passed on the way there. We spent a while discussing whether or not three bars really constitutes a crawl, but maybe the Americans do things differently. Besides, that was nowhere near as shocking as the girl who had been in a wheelchair all night walking around when she came to say goodbye to everyone .

After a lot of terrible music mixed in with the occasional gem, I left wondering how the capital city of the USA could be five years behind the UK in terms of the music played in their drinking establishments. It’s a good job the Americans have better town-planners than us though, or I would have been seriously lost on my walk back to the hostel. Who needs a map when the streets are literally grid-references!?

Post-script: I apologise to those of you who haven’t played Fallout 3 for the apparent non sequitur laced throughout this post. If it’s any consolation there are nowhere near as many as there were to begin with.

Post-post-script: I hereby rescind my apology. If you’ve not played Fallout 3, you don’t deserve one.