Belated

My last trip occurred about 5 years ago.  I recall cathcing my breath as we circled for landing, admiring the bits of land and sea as the plane drew closer to the ground.  I met a driver at baggage claim, feeling terribly adult and quite nervous as we made our way through tunnels toward town.  I checked into a hotel with equations printed on a throw, a robot standing sentry in the hall, and was so impressed I could barely stand it.

I asked about places to see as I navigated the interview process, my version of small talk being "the city seems nice - what should I do while I'm here?"  What I did, in fact, was head back to curl up under the equations, sleeping fitfully as I prepared to fly to my next interview.  As I flew away from the scenic spot on the east coast, I felt much like I did when leaving LA a few years later - a bit melancholy because I knew it wasn't home and doubted I'd be back.

I have eagerly anticipated my return since learning of the opportunity, feeling blessed that I get to travel to amazing places and not pay for anything other than keepsakes.  Photos are free though so I spend a good deal of time wandering around and soaking in the scenery.  Some smart commenter noted that I seem happiest outside and I thought it rather insightful.  I rarely explore buildings (other than cooing over my hotel room - I love, love, love hotels) from the inside, peering instead at my map in a quest to cover as much ground as possible.

Having arrived and downgraded my room type to check in early (always happy to do that - I hate checking luggage and not being able to freshen up when I arrive), I decided I was hungry.  So I ordered room service while I unpacked and got settled.  Then I decided I was a little tired.  And I didn't feel great.  Tempted mightily to lie down on the fluffy bedding and nap, I nudged the sheers aside and looked out my window at an undeniably gorgeous day.  Packing my map and camera, I dutifully set out to explore.

I got lost, of course, finding myself between Washington and Franklin, then Summer and Winter, before giving up.  But my impression of this American city - apart from delight that I can take a direct flight, not check bags and not need my passport - is that it possesses a sort of timeless and effortless elegance.  Flowers bloomed tastefully.  People were clothed comfortably - stylish and pretty but the colors were pleasantly muted and, even when I started to look, I failed to find a single person looking trashy.  I approved even as I felt intimidated, settling carefully on a green bench in the pretty park and smiling at the dogs as they trotted by and the children ignoring the signs while they fed the ducklings. 

I skipped over the stately shops, knowing I brought plenty of clothes and reminding myself that I'm trying to finish the last of my credit card debt.  I was not strong enough to withstand the bargains though, nudging people for space and rifling through racks at Filene's and ending up with a couple of tops, two new bras and a necessary pair of flip flops (my sneakers were giving my Stockholm blister a new layer of painfulness).  Pleased with my purchases, I sniffled and limped my way back to my pretty room. 

My class lasts most of this week, albeit with people I vaguely know and have decided to like a whole bunch and with a good amount of downtime that I hope enables me to watch some baseball and get on a boat.  I'll keep you updated as time permits.

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