When my sister and I arrived in Washington, D.C. four-and-a-half-days after we left home in California, I was ready to do some urban exploring. We had to rush (as much as you can when you’re hauling a flip-floppity U-Haul trailer) across the country, and I was looking forward to spending five days seeing everything in D.C.
We pulled up to her apartment building on a Friday morning. Checked in. Signed the papers. Took the elevator to the 14th floor. Then realized, only one of the three elevators was working for the entire 280-unit building. The freight elevator that we were told would make our move in quick and easy, was being repaired. All. Day. So we unloaded stuff. Waited. Waited. And waited more for the single stall to make its way back to us in the basement. We met lots of residents while we stood there, most of whom glanced at our piles and then to us and then shook their heads. Once or twice we made deals with residents who held the elevator while we shoved as much as we could into the elevator. It was a very long day that resulted in my sister deciding she doesn’t want to even buy furniture to fill her two-bedroom if it requires her to actually move it into the building.
The next morning, we woke up on her mattresses in middle of the living room floor. It was early, and after a day of moving her in, she owed me a day on the town.
Georgetown. “Get up — we’re going to Georgetown,” I told her. I said maybe we could find a cute place to have brunch. She said we should find a place to get an oil change that was near some place with food. Are we possibly related?
I don’t know why I wanted to go there. I didn’t know much about it, except that Georgetown University is there and the Internet told me there was shopping. So we loaded into the Jeep, my sister ever so reluctantly and me with a bag of cameras.
Here are pictures from that morning on M Street. Georgetown was cute. It was full of beautiful people. I love that it sits on the Potomac River. I overheard a boy talking about books (that never happens). My sister found happiness in a chocolatier’s pumpkin truffles. The shopping was fun, but not artsy cool enough for me; I’m not exactly into the fancy expensive stores, ya know (hello, haven’t I professed my love of thrift stores?). But it was wonderful being out and about in a new place.
I knew D.C. was kind of famous for its cupcake shops, but I didn’t even know Georgetown Cupcake has its own reality show. I came upon an episode after I got home and was like, “hey, I have a picture of that place.”
I tried shooting from the hip. Doesn’t work too great with a 50mm.