After 4 days of almost constant walking we decided that our feet needed a break and the kids could do with a lie in. I fancied a bus tour of the city on one of those open top style buses you see in London on a dry day but on further investigation we decided the £100+ cost of the tickets for the day and poor reviews on tripadvisor meant it probably wasn’t worth the bother. Instead, the boys relaxed with their electronics and Nick and I got some chores done. I sent Nick off in search of a laundromat and many hours later he returned, a little aggrieved that Google had let him down with locations of the first two, but with clean clothes nevertheless. My experience at the grocery store was soo much better.
At the checkout I was asked for ID.
I know, I was confused at first too. Baffled, I looked at the checkout guy for an explanation and realised that, because I was attempting to buy a bottle of wine, he wanted evidence that I am over 21. Trying not to laugh, but secretly over the moon, I handed him my driving licence and asked if he really thought there was any possibility that I looked under 25. Now he was confused. I watched him do the maths as he studied my UK driving licence and then, feeling pity, I whispered: “I’m almost 40!” We both laughed and I left the store feeling like the proverbial million dollars. When I mentioned it later to Nick (who, I might add, has never been asked for ID here) I think he muttered something about a new scheme to give the visually impaired more work experience but I couldn’t hear him properly because I think I’m going deaf…
As well as the sauvignon blanc, (almost as expensive, but worth every penny) what I did manage to buy, was this:
I’m all for trying the local cuisine but without a proper cup of tea… well, my dad will understand.
As he would say; it was like a small win on the lottery.
Chores all done, we caught the metro over to the Nationals’ new stadium to watch them beat the Phillies in the second of a three day series. I’d like to say it was an exciting, action-packed thriller of a game. I’d like to. The truth is though, that for the first 5 innings almost nothing happened at all. Batters came in, the pitcher threw the ball, the batters were caught or run out and the cycle repeats. By comparison, test match cricket seems pacey.
During the fourth inning, and breaking the
tedium nail biting tension, the President’s Race took place. Giant foam caricatures of six former presidents race around the field to the delight of the crowd.
The winner on this occasion, with the help of his four-legged friend, was Teddy Roosevelt – hooray!
In the sixth innings the Nationals scored and the place erupted! Whitney Houston’s I wanna dance blasted out around the stadium and we all felt like world peace was just around the corner.