Today we took the metro south to Alexandria, a city seven miles out of Washington in Virginia.
We accept the reality of the world with which we are presented
As we walked from the station to old town Alexandria I was struck with how well presented it was – spotlessly clean and tidy. It really reminded me of Seahaven Island the fictional town in the film The Truman Show. Once I’d got that idea into my head I couldn’t shake it and was constantly looking for the hidden cameras!
We had a short walk along the banks of the Potomac before heading to the Torpedo factory, an old, well torpedo factory. Now repurposed as a arts centre with the interior, which looks remarkedly like a prision, converted into lots of small units that artists rent.
We wandered from room to room looking at the art that was on offer, which ranged from paintings and photography to embroidery and painted bottle caps. Some we liked and some we didn’t and none could we imagine getting back on a plane home! A number of the units were shut but in those that were open the artists were happy to chat about what they were doing.
On the way back to the station we made a slight detour to the Hollensbury Spite House, purported to be the narrowest house in the US. We did the touristy thing and stood in front of it and had our photos taken. I’m not sure I’d want lots of tourists standing outside my house, gawping through the windows and having their pictures taken, but in this case, the owners don’t live there, so I guess it’s not a problem.
This is not a Joke
How do the blind of America cross the road? I know that this sounds like the start of a joke, but it’s really not.
Pedestrian crossings are everywhere here, given the grid layout of the cities there’s one pretty much on every corner. You get to a crossing, press a button, and the post barks “weight” at you. I respond “11 stone 4,” and the post just laughs; no, wait, that is a joke.
On the opposite side of the crossing is a red hand telling you to wait, and eventually, a white (note not green) hand appears, meaning you are free to cross. What there very rarely is is any audible notification that you are free to cross. Frequently, we’ll have reached halfway across before the person on the other side, engrossed in their phone, has realised they can cross.
Which brings us to the blind. Do they have some sort of sixth sense that tells them they can cross or do they rely on their guide dog? Answers on a post card please.
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