To the cafe. Then the gift shop.

I've never been to so many museums in my whole life as I have in seven days spent striding the streets of  the USA's Capital and Capitol, Washington D.C. I've soaked up so much concentrated culture that if I so much looked at the Eiffel Tower or took a step on the millennium bridge,, tiny little effigies of past American presidents would surely come seeping out of every pore.  

They weren't bad museums, to be fair, as museums go. As well as a decent standard of gift shops and cafes (spicy/faintly ticklish hot chocolate at the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian,,, an area dedicated to Star Wars merchandise at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum) 

...and there was a lot of cool stuff on show. The sight of Lincoln's slanted signature at the bottom of his Emancipation Proclamation was strangely surreal. Visiting the backstreet theatre where he was shot made me shiver. (An effect slightly lessened by the view of "Lincoln's Waffle Shop" across the road.)

Its unreal how many Gilmore Girls/Friends references are scattered around for the anecdote opportunist to seize. Spot an unfortunate naked gentleman in the opposite hotel room and excitedly call all your mates in to debate the best way in which to fashion a giant poking device.  Wander into the one of the Universities of Georgetown, have lunch its its canteen, and feel like Rory and Lorelai breaking into Harvard, (although admittedly legally and therefore with less of the thrill.) 

It was a good trip. The free cookies, soda refills and "Go Large" possibilities are much missed,,, But when your feet ache as soon as they hit the floor in the morning, when you can't face another abercrombie store, when you start to get cravings for a crate of raw veg and all the monuments start to blur into one (to quote a kid we passed by The Washington Monument "Mummy, can we go to the giant pencil?") you know its time to go home.