A Presidential Post

Our stay in Philadelphia has been short and (mostly) sweet.  As I mentioned at the bottom of the last post, we again found ourselves staying miles from downtown .  On a positive note, our isolation was in a more pleasant setting on this occasion.  If it hadn’t been for the two bottoms rising and falling in a parked car as we walked the mile between bus stop and hostel (in BROAD daylight, I hasten to add), it could almost be described as quaint.

The hostel itself was quirky – a retired mansion now serving as the city’s Hostelling International base.  It’s been a while since we stayed in dorms (Mission Beach, Australia, being the last – a lifetime ago, it seems) and though we weren’t overly enthused at the prospect it was ok.

We only had the one full day in Philadelphia so it was quite a busy one.  Philadelphia is where the US, as we know it, was born – the Declaration of Independence was drafted, presented, ratified and, finally, signed here in the summer of 1776.  July 4th, or Independence Day, celebrates the day on which the Declaration was ratified – it was not actually signed for another two months (I have no idea why it took them so long?!), on August 2nd.  History lesson over (for now …), it was the opportunity to visit the birthplace of this compelling nation that lured us here.  Thus, our morning was spent taking a tour of Independence Hall (where the Declaration was signed – who’d have guessed!) and the surrounding area.  And as you can probably detect from the above, it was a very informative tour.  The building itself, although the original, was a bit plasticy (is this a word?) inside and slightly underwhelming, somehow.  That said, it’s difficult not be a little in awe of such a historical spot.

While we were in the area, we also visited the (apparently) famous Liberty Bell.  A symbol of American values – and a treasured one, at that – the bell is only linked to the Declaration of Independence through circumstance – it had long stood in the bell tower of Indepence Hall (formerly the Pennsylvania State House) before the Declaration was written.  Also, it wasn’t until the abolitionist movement of the 1830s that the bell became known as such, though it does carry the following prophetic inscription:

Proclaim liberty throughout all the Land unto all the Inhabitants thereof

It is likely considered rude to visit this part of the world with out tipping your hat to the Founding Fathers but it would even more likely be considered sacrilegious to have visited and not indulged in a Philly Cheesesteak.  We duly obliged.

The rest of our afternoon was spent perusing the downtown area.  Parts of which are bit gritty but others superbly maintained and very pleasant. 

In one such area (ironically, perhaps) there is a statue of Rocky (yes, that Rocky!) to commemorate the famous scene in the first film were he runs up the steps of the city’s Museum of Art.  And I kid you not, even from quite a distance we could see numerous idiots actually reenacting the scene, even doing the little jumping jig once they’d got to the top.  I’m not even a particularly big fan of Rocky but what the hell!

The following morning we took the short bus ride to Washington to D.C., delighted to find that we’d booked a hostel that, although requiring a short bus ride to the city’s many attractions, can reasonably be said to be in the downtown area.  By the time we’d checked in, got ourselves sorted, etc., we didn’t really have time to do anything of note, just heading into town for some dinner at a rather delicious Burmese restaurant.

Next day, we got down to business.  By 8, we were queuing outside Capitol Hill for tickets (free – everything here is, it’s brilliant!) to be taken on a tour inside.  As most of you will know, Capitol Hill is the home of the Congress – very much at the centre (or, should I say center) of American and, by proxy, world politics.  Unlike Independence Hall, Capitol Hill is still very much alive and kicking and, as a consequence, a more moving experience. 

Besides the Gallery (see below), the highlight of the building is the rotunda – a fantastically ornate room where, a bit morbidly perhaps, elected officials who die whilst still serving lie in state, including Presidents Kennedy and Lincoln.  Below is the rotunda’s ceiling.

The tour itself did not extend to the Gallery – the US equivalent of the House of Commons – but we were able to claim further tickets to visit.  Unfortunately the Congress is not currently in session so we were unable to see it in action but it was still very cool.  It is in this room that the President delivers his annual State of the Union address.  Unfortunately, cameras were prohibited in this part of the building.

In the afternoon, we visited the the Air and Space Museum.  One of the many Smithsonian museums, it may seem like an odd choice as a first port of call, our logic being that we didn’t want to cram all the ‘best’ stuff in the first couple of days – we have a full week here.  And besides, it was a thoroughly excellent museum.  A couple of highlights for you.  First, the museum housed the actual Spirit of St Louis.  This was the aircraft that Charles Lindbergh flew from New York to Paris in 1927.  I can’t say that I’m particulalry enthralled by aviation in general, but I’d read a Lindbergh biography earlier in the trip so was unusually interested on this occasion.

Second, and this is more (or so we thought!) a crazy fact discovered, that we wish to share: Pluto is no longer considered a legitimate planet in our solar system!  There are only eight!!  I was looking at the display and thinking I’m sure there’s one missing and, low and behold, in 2006 Pluto was reclassified as a ‘dwarf’ planet.  Being no scientist, I can’t really go into too much detail as to why to this change has occurred but textbook publishers must have had a field day!!

Less crazy, and more a sign of my general ignorance I fear, I had no idea that 6 Apollo missions had succesfully landed on the moon.  I’d assumed that Apollo 11 wasn’t the only occasion but I was surprised at the number of successful landings.

Brains sufficiently boggled for the day, be grabbed some chow at Capital Q Texas BBQ (apparently popular with the Texas members of Congress) before heading in the direction of the White House.

We walked past the back of the compund first.  We didn’t spot the President but it was surprising how close the House is to the perimeter fence.  Which, is not that close but enough that you can clearly identify the famous West-Wing, albeit only the top half of it.  There was a small party hovering around but I’m pretty sure Dubya wasn’t among them.

The front of the house was more as we’d expected, set far back from the public viewing area.  As a result, not quite so exciting.  It is around the back that you almost expect to see something, irrational as that is. 

From the White House, we walked in the direction of the Mall and the Washington Monument.  The sun was beginning to set so it was a perfect time to pay a first visit.  On this occasion we were flagging so we didn’t stay long.

Our third day (and if, as you read on you are beginning to flag, the last of this entry!!) began with a near death experience: the American breakfast buffet.  It was carnage – I’ll spare you the grizzly details.  Thereafter, it was a rather Presidential day …

First off, we visited the White House Visitor’s Center.  Not quite a museum (certainly not in the Washingtonian sense), it nonetheless offered displays on both the house and its numerous inhabitants, some more interesting than others.  It was revealed that President Nixon ordered the removal of the White House’s indoor swimming pool to make way for the press room, a decision he surely came to regret.  Silly man.

Our next port of call was the National Portrait Gallery.  Surprisingly, they had a portrait of each and every President (apart from Dubya’s – I guess his will follow shortly).  I have to confess to never having heard of a couple – Millard Filmore anyone?  Each portrait was accompanied by a short biography – the most notable (and tragic) of which depicted the Presidency of William Henry Harrison.  His inauguration address was so long that he contracted pneumonia during the course of its delivery and never recovered.  He passed away within the month.

Needing a restbite from the heat (which, at times, is suffocating) we spent a pleasant hour in a sculpture garden, cooling our toes in its fountain.

Suitably refreshed, we embarked on a tour of the The Mall.  Having already visited the Washington Monument, our focus was on the various presidential memorials, namely those belonging to Thomas Jefferson, Franklin Delano Rooselvelt and Abraham Lincoln (in that order).

Credit where credit is due – American’s know how to do a good memorial.  Both in terms of architecture and scale.  The Thomas Jefferson memorial is set on Tidal Basin Lake.  In the distance you can just make out the White House – there is a clear line of sight between the two.

The FDR Memorial is a behemoth!  Different in style to the Jefferson and Lincoln Memorials (where a statue of each effectively stands/sits in a grand structure), you walk through the FDR Memorial as it charts the four terms of his Presidency.  It takes four of five minutes to walk form one end to the other, with the route dominated by water features of different shapes and sizes.

And finally on to the Lincoln Memorial, probably the most famous.  This sits across from Capitol Hill, at the head of the reflecting lake – immortalised in the minds of many by Martin Luther King Jr’s “I Have a Dream” speech or, failing that, Forrest Gump.  The light was fading fast by this point, so we were able to enjoy the memorial both at dusk and in darkness.  The memorial is lit from within so it is an impressive sight.

From here we made our way to our bus stop via the Washington Monument and yet another memorial, this one commemorating WWII.  Both impressively illuminated.

So there you have it.  I hope you’ve made it this far and, if not, have at least enjoyed the pictures.   We still have four days here, one of which is Scuttlebutt’s brithday.  Older and wiser, she will fill you in on the remainder of our stay.  

Just remember, if ever you get into a debate or discussion about American Presidents, Dubya is not the stupidest: Nixon was!