So the last week was pretty amazing on a number of counts. (1) Barack Obama was inaugurated. (2) Barry and I were in DC with a few million other people for the occasion. (3) I met a whole bunch of cousins that I’d never met before.

We arrived on Saturday after a lovely drive up Route 15 through some of the prettiest country I’ve seen in Virginia. We were greeted by my first cousin and her daughter and son-in-law. Here’s where we stayed:

And here’s the other house on the property, where my Aunt and Uncle raised their four children:

The old house—a farmhouse from the 19th century—has some pretty amazing details, such as these shutters:

On Sunday, we had a big brunch with a whole bunch of first cousins, first cousins once removed, first cousins twice removed, in-laws and ex-laws:

We had hoped to make it to DC after the brunch, and catch the concert at the Lincoln Memorial, but apparently the Virginia Rail Express doesn’t run on Sundays. So we had a pleasant afternoon watching the concert on TV back at my cousin’s house.

The next day we went to Amphora, a diner in Vienna in the style of NY greek diners: a casual side and a fancy side, greek and american food, all meals served 24 hours a day. There we met up with a colleague of mine from the olden days in California:

We had thoughts of going into DC after brunch, but after we got to the Vienna station we realized that the line was about 2 hours long. So we headed back to Manassas and went to their biggest tourist attraction: the Mannasas Battlefield National Park.

Considering the events of the next day, wandering around the site of the first victory of the Confederacy was a good reminder of how far we’ve come. But the tale of the battles fought there is also a reminder that history is often more complex than we see at first glance. In the center of the park—and the battles— is the foundation of a house that belonged to a freed slave. The house was destroyed and ransacked by Union troops (although the owner later received reparations).

The next morning we were up early and taking the Virginia Rail Express into DC.

When we arrived at L’Enfant Station at around 8:30, the city was already crowded. The first three entrances to the national mall were already closed, so we kept walking.

There were plenty of opportunities to buy swag along the way, such as these Official Obama Air Fresheners.

We had originally intended to make it to the parade route. But after a mile or so of slogging through the crowds, with more, and denser crowds ahead, we decided to settle in near the Washington Monument, with a good view of a Jumbotron.

It was COLD out there. I wore thermal leggings, fleece pants, and lined slacks. A camisole, turtleneck, thermal shirt, fleece sweatshirt and winter coat. Beret, scarf, and gloves. And a second scarf that I wrapped around my hands. The only part of me that was cold was my toes—my cozy winter boots are too snug to allow for a second pair of socks. I kept them warm by standing on one foot and a time while wiggling the toes in the raised foot.

This fellow exhorted the crowd to stay warm with shouts of  “Hop for Obama!”

After a reprise of Sunday’s concert on the Jumbotron, they started to show the arrivals and backstage movement prior to the actual ceremonies. The crowd cheered or booed depending on the person shown on the screen. In the meantime, buses full of marching bands drove past on their way to the staging area for the parade.

This is the view we had of the Jumbotron…occasionally security forces would climb the scaffolding to scan the crowd and take photos.

Did I mention there was occasional booing? I love this shot—it looks like he’s already in jail.

But there was cheering and hugging and singing and waving of flags, too.

And for good reason:

Between taking these photos and writing this post, torture has been once again deemed to be an unAmerican activity. Progress already!

After the ceremony, everybody sort of just milled about for a bit. We decided to head towards a neighborhood we’d ferreted out on google maps, that was far enough to be a bit of a hike, but close enough to be a do-able hike. After all, we had five hours until our return train. So we started walking…

and walking…

and walking…

and crawling through a hole in a fence…

past crowds of people looking for an open Metro station…

We walked and walked and walked and when we finally came to a part of town that restaurants and bars and whatnot, anything besides government buildings, the lines were out the door and around the corner. One woman, seeing my ziploc bag full of snacks, asked if she could buy a piece of cheese from me (of course I gave it to her for free!)

We finally found a bar called Remington’s where we were able to get a seat at the bar right away.

Don’t know why it wasn’t crowded, because it was a fine establishment. In fact, a sign in the women’s room says it’s one of the top 50 gay bars in the country. Maybe the locals don’t care for a country bar that features drag shows, but for a couple of breeders from Durham, these two Beaver Lodge Local 1504 members felt quite welcome. I think we need to invite the bartender to be a judge at the next Beaver Queen Pageant.

After passing some time at Remington’s we made our way back to a train station. At this point we were closer to Union Station, so we headed there instead of L’Enfant. A bad decision, in retrospect. There was a thick crowd outside the station, which houses not only the VRE commuter rail but also MARC (Maryland commuter train), Amtrak and a metro station. There were a few officials with a weak microphone shouting at the crowd, who chanted back “WE CAN’T HEAR YOU! WE CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

It was getting later, darker, colder, and more crowded. Not a pleasant scenario.

The officials at the back of the crowd didn’t have much information, and couldn’t hear the guys with the microphones any better than we could.

Eventually the word was passed back through the crowd: Metro riders go to the entrance on the other side of the station. Amtrak riders with tickets stay to the right. VRE and MARC riders, cool your heels. The Amtrak riders started to filter out of the crowd, tickets held high.

But it was still probably a good hour or hour and a half before the VRE and MARC riders were allowed into the station. It wasn’t terribly crowded once we were inside—I’ve been in worse crowds at Penn Station simply because of a few delayed weeknight trains. Once inside, it was just a matter of waiting for a train to Manassas—we’d missed the train we’d bought a ticket for, but we were reassured that wouldn’t matter. In fact, when we bought the tickets, we had to buy them for the exact time and station, and there was a set of rules about what was not allowed on the train that day. But nobody ever even looked at our tickets, much less what we were carrying! Good thing the only creature we ever terrorize is the cat, and he gets us back tenfold.

Here’s a before and after of Barry: at the start of the day, before 7:30am in Manassas, and about 11 hours later, waiting at Union Station:

Like the stylin’ new sweatshirt? I got one too:

The photo above was taken at a home in Reston, where we went to a party at the invitation of an old friend of Barry:

Wednesday we slept in, and hit the road in the late morning. We’d heard while at Remington’s that there’d been snow in the Triangle—when we got here we discovered that we’d missed a major snow day, with 6-8 inches in Raleigh and Wake Forest. The snow day helped to give the inauguration broadcast higher ratings in the Triangle than anywhere in the country—people called it Snoboma! day.

We did have a great lunch on the way down, at a place called the Hornet’s Nest in Orange, VA. Barry said it was the best brisket he’d ever had.

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