Thursday morning I, once again, dragged myself out of bed and in to work. I had a tough time concentrating, with the holiday coming up and my excitement to sightsee with Sarah. I ended up leaving a bit early from work so that we could visit the Smithsonian FolkLife Festival. The festival, an annual event, celebrates three cultures with exhibits and food. This year the festival’s topics were Texas, Bhutan, and NASA. We didn’t see anything spectacular in the Texas section, but there were a number of interesting booths educating me (and everyone else) about life, arts, and culture in Bhutan. Very interesting. The NASA booths were incredible. An exhibit about the devices and technologies NASA has created, a number of new projects they are working on, and a few great pictures of our galaxy and beyond. The only problem was that it was hot. And sticky. (blech!)
We decided to take a break from the heat and watch a movie, and Kung Fu Panda was really the only option, so we sat down to enjoy it. It was cute and funny, better than I expected. We had about forty five minutes to squeeze in a trip to the National Portrait Gallery. Sarah really wanted to view the American President exhibit – one of only two collections of Presidents’ portraits (the other being in the White House). It was incredible to see paintings of our first Presidents – paintings they viewed themselves, painted at a time when our nation was just beginning to take shape, just beginning on its journey to where we are today. We were one of the last stragglers in the portrait gallery as they closed, and on our way out of the gallery decided to make our way to visit the Lincoln Memorial. Our path down the mall took us past the Washington Monument and the WWII Memorial. It is beautiful and reverent, a nice addition to the monuments lining the center of the Mall.
We had to detour a bit on our way to the Lincoln Memorial because of the prepared fireworks. The memorial itself was overcrowded with tour groups, families, and tourists with unbelievably large cameras. We climbed up the steps, toured inside the memorial, and even walked around to the back of the memorial that faces the Potomac. It was a perfect place to relax a few minutes as the sun set.
We headed back to Chinatown for dinner, and ended up eating at a great place called Matchbox. There is one other Matchbox, in Palm Springs, and although I had noticed it there, I hadn’t eaten there before. Their speciality is “vintage pizza” and the chicken pesto was spectacular. Definitely worth the lengthy wait for a table. Somehow, we were, once again, on the last train home. I shouldn’t have been surprised.
We decided to take a break from the heat and watch a movie, and Kung Fu Panda was really the only option, so we sat down to enjoy it. It was cute and funny, better than I expected. We had about forty five minutes to squeeze in a trip to the National Portrait Gallery. Sarah really wanted to view the American President exhibit – one of only two collections of Presidents’ portraits (the other being in the White House). It was incredible to see paintings of our first Presidents – paintings they viewed themselves, painted at a time when our nation was just beginning to take shape, just beginning on its journey to where we are today. We were one of the last stragglers in the portrait gallery as they closed, and on our way out of the gallery decided to make our way to visit the Lincoln Memorial. Our path down the mall took us past the Washington Monument and the WWII Memorial. It is beautiful and reverent, a nice addition to the monuments lining the center of the Mall.
We had to detour a bit on our way to the Lincoln Memorial because of the prepared fireworks. The memorial itself was overcrowded with tour groups, families, and tourists with unbelievably large cameras. We climbed up the steps, toured inside the memorial, and even walked around to the back of the memorial that faces the Potomac. It was a perfect place to relax a few minutes as the sun set.
We headed back to Chinatown for dinner, and ended up eating at a great place called Matchbox. There is one other Matchbox, in Palm Springs, and although I had noticed it there, I hadn’t eaten there before. Their speciality is “vintage pizza” and the chicken pesto was spectacular. Definitely worth the lengthy wait for a table. Somehow, we were, once again, on the last train home. I shouldn’t have been surprised.
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