Washington D.C.

On Sunday morning, we had a nice breakfast round the corner at "Le Pain Quotidien" with an excellent "pain au chocolat".

There was a very attractive market with fruit and vegetables near Dupont Circle but when we wanted to buy some peaches, the stall owner told us they were not allowed to buy anything before the bell of 9 o'clock. To us, Europeans, that sounded pretty unbelievable. As the coach was waiting for us, we left the peaches in their crates.

We drove to the city centre, along the Mall and were dropped of at the Smitsonean Castle. The group split up in smaller numbers and people went their way, depending on their individual interests. I followed Bruce and some others to the Botanic Garden and then to the National Gallery, where he showed us the American landscapists and impressionist painters. After a quick lunch in the cafeteria of the museum I decided to go for the highlights of the West wing: a da Vinci, Rafael, Vermeer, Rembrandt, Turner, and of course the large collection of French impressionists, as well as the statue gallery with a.o. Rodin and Degas.
I had to tear myself away from so much beauty and wish I could stay longer.
I hurried on to the Museum of American History, where I went to the second floor and visited a house brought all the way from Ipswich, MA, and depicting history throught the life stories of the families who had lived in it. An amazing way of portraying the past and making it recognisable for young and old. I also had a look at the galleries about the different communities in America, and was struck by the Jewish people, who mainly used to work as peddlers when they first arrived here, and often managed to work their way up the social ladder to become important shopkeepers or bankers.
Then I went to the third floor where I visited the gallery about the life of Abraham Lincoln and the more general part about the different presidents of the U.S.A.
Finally, I strolled through the Americans at War gallery.
The museum has so much to offer, everything is interactive, you could easily spend a week here.

Isn't it incredible, though, that in the middle of this crowded museum, on a Sunday afternoon in Washington D.C., I hear someone sneeze and make a comment in Flemish about the airco that's always too high. I recognise the voice, turn around, and meet my former colleague Caroline Pieters. We never meet each other in Belgium, and here our paths cross. Coincidence?