Having our Cake and Leaving It

I know now that you can have too much cheesecake.

For dinner tonight we went to an ordinary restaurant chain (ordinary for America anyway) that serves fifty different kinds of cheesecake. They all sound delicious, promising exciting combinations and exotic flavours and there's a temptation to taste several rather than pass up a new experience. But when they arrive, the slices are bewilderingly enormous and I just end up uncomfortably stuffed.

This is something we have gotten used to on holiday as our normal day-to-day conscientiousness has been forgotten. But is also analogous to our experience of Washington.

For three days we have gorged ourselves, trying to fit in as many different monuments and museums and landmarks as possible, snatching just ten or fifteen minutes at this place, just to get a sense of it. Now we are stuffed, unable to move for all the marble staircases, interactive displays and audio guides we have enjoyed. But, unlike the cheesecake perhaps, there are no regrets. And what wonders have we seen today, our last day in central DC.

We got up early and braved an incredible rain storm so that we would have enough time for all the security checks that awaited us at the US Capitol. Their procedures are stringent but efficient, especially at 8.30 AM and we were very quickly inside the underground visitors' centre that was built in 2004. Then we had a tour about the crypt, the rotunda and the original Senate and House of Representatives chambers - abandoned when the Capitol was expanded in the 1860s. Finally, and following some goodwill from a clerk, we were allowed passes to see the current Senate chamber: typically we fall between two stools since US citizens can ask their representatives for admittance and foreign tourists just need to bring their passports. All we had was a Texan driving licence and a British accent but he took pity on us and we were soon heading through yet another security cordon.

The Senate, albeit in session, was deserted except for one man who hurriedly cleared his desk and left as soon as we had sat down in the public gallery. So we looked at the sumptuous blue furnishings, the polished chairs and tables. In front of us a French woman hurriedly caught an attendant's attention: she had found an anonymous-looking black holdall under her seat. The guy just waved his hand. "Don't worry," he said. "That's supposed to be there." We noticed that each seat had a bag underneath it and Laura managed to read a label. It was a business card for an "Emergency Preparations Logistics Manager".

(After a bit of Googling we found out the man in question is an expert in Biological Weapons who has been instrumental in shaping emergency procedures for the Capitol and the Library of Congress. So what was in the bag? Gas masks? Bio-hazard suits? "Probably," said Laura "some really reassuring pamphlets.")

Even that though, had an elegance that suited the building.

To avoid another set of security hurdles we took advantage of the tunnel that connects the Capitol to the Library of Congress. If the former is a sophisticated but sober palace, then the latter is - like the Natural History Museum in London - a secular cathedral: elaborate, decorated, romantic and cultured. A wonderful, amazing building. In one corner there was a Gutenberg bible. And the Gift Shop was well above average.

No time to dawdle though! We had to hot-foot back through the city, check out of our hotel, load the car and find somewhere to park so that we could let William see his blessed Andy Warhol at the art museum. There hadn't been enough time the day before. At school last year, William's class did a long project on 20C art and he had loved it, becoming absurdly knowledgeable. The information desk assured us - in response to his urgent questioning - that, yes, they did have a Warhol. So we made a beeline and it turned out to be one of his prints of Marilyn Monroe.

"Who's she?" asked William.

And very soon afterwards, that was that. We have left Washington and moved a few miles out so that we can do some outskirty stuff tomorrow. We've all had more than our fill, I think, but there's so much more left on the table for next time.

And unlike our restaurant, DC won't box up what's left for us to take home.