Washington DC, District of Columbia
I knew going down to the bar once we'd got back to the hotel was a bad idea but I have to say my farewells to the band and management, and of course Dom too, as I'll not be seeing any of them in the morning.
I've arranged a mid-morning transfer for Dom to the airport for his connecting flight back to the UK but sadly I'm due up at 5.45am for my flight to Washington. So I want to get to bed as soon as possible. However by the time I've had a chance to speak to everyone, and drinks have been bought for me to say goodbye, too much time has passed and it's gone 1am before I extricate myself.
And in frustrating fashion, knowing I have to be up for an early flight means sleep is fitful and I'm only really dozing from about 4am onwards, deep sleep deserting me.
At least it means I'm up in plenty of time for the car to the airport. It's a brilliantly clear early morning and as the car leaves the city centre and drives through the plains to the airport the sky is huge and blue above me. On the horizon the Rockies loom all purple and red, with white snow-capped peaks stretching for miles and miles. They look incredibly beautiful and I wish I could spend a few more days here checking out the countryside, but sadly my visit to the state of Colorado has lasted just 16 hours.
I check-in to the United desk and start to feel distinctly other-worldly. The lack of sleeps paints everything in a detached, slow-motion kinda way and I slump my way through security, onto the little transit train to terminal B and up to the gate. I grab a sandwich from a little stall and opt for a decaf coffee. I need something to keep me going to actually get onto the plane, but want to be able to grab some shut-eye once safely in my seat.
The plane is completely rammed so as soon as we take to the air I pull out my eye-mask and inflatable pillow, determined to shut everything out and snooze all the way to Washington. But my pillow has developed a fault and each time I try to seal it, it pops open again deflating limply. It looks like I feel.
Pathetically desperate, I clamp the eye-mask to my face and do my best to slumber. I can almost touch unconsciousness but stewardesses trying to sell hot food, babies crying, in-flight announcements to buckle up due to turbulence and constant other interruptions conspire to keep me awake, as sure as if I'd had a triple espresso. I could almost weep with exhaustion...
After an hour and a half I give up and decide to do some work instead, writing emails to be sent when I land, but having to re-read them over and again as I keep making silly spelling mistakes. The disorientation will only increase when I land in Washington as despite the flight being only three hours long with the time difference it'll be well into the afternoon by the time I reach the hotel. With any luck I might get a couple of hours in bed before I have to leave for the party at which Corinne Bailey Rae is performing tonight.
Once off the plane, my baggage is already on the carousel and a cab is waiting outside so I fall into it and tell the driver my destination. As is the way of cabbies, who always seem up for a chat, Malako reveals he's from Ethiopia and has been in the US for eight years. He’s obviously very proud to live in Washington DC, asking me if it's my first time here and what am I most looking forward to seeing. I tell him I'm here for just 14 hours so won't really get a chance to see anything, so he offers to drive me past the White House and Capitol Hill before dropping me at the hotel, telling me they’re pretty much on the way. Sounds like a good idea to me, despite it being grey and rainy outside.
So, after we leave the airport environs he takes a three minute detour across the border into Virginia to sail past the impressive and historic Iwo Jima memorial and Arlington cemetery where military men and women killed in combat are buried with full honours. He gestures in the direction of some trees and tells me that the Pentagon is behind them but that it’s not worth seeing. Within moments we’re on the Roosevelt Bridge, crossing the Potomac River and onto Constitution Avenue. Malako points out buildings as we speed along; the Lincoln Memorial, the Kennedy Center, the Federal Reserve, the Washington Monument, ooh over there’s the White House (I get seconds to snap a pic), then the Smithsonian Institute and finally on Pennsylvania Avenue, there’s Capitol Hill.
The sights whizz past and literally within five minutes I’ve seen some of the most important places in America. It’s far too brief to take everything in, especially in my befuddled state, and as we continue on to the Dupont Hotel in the NW Quarter where I’m staying, grand building after grand building sweeps into view. Unlike most US cities there are no skyscrapers, with a law decreeing that Capitol Hill and the Washington Monument are the two highest points in the city so nothing can be built higher than them. It means Washington DC feels quite different, and almost European – not surprising seeing as it was designed by a Frenchman, Pierre L’Enfant.
I’m at the hotel by 3.15pm and quickly contact Corinne Bailey Rae’s sound engineer to see what their plans are. I’m hoping I’ll be able to get a couple of hours sleep before the performance this evening, but Corinne is being collected at 5pm. I drop her a text and arrange to meet her in the lobby, figuring I’ll have at least an hour in bed. But within 10 minutes of falling asleep a bunch of sirens outside the hotel rudely bring me back to life. The traffic noise continues, added to by the fact my stomach is rumbling, so there's no chance of sleep returning. The little airport snack at 7am is long gone, so with 50 minutes to go I order room service, jump in the shower, switch on the computer and upload this blog.
With Corinne’s performance at the Grammy’s party this evening finishing late, our airport transfer booked for 4.30am, a long, long day of travelling to the Caribbean ahead and no idea if there’ll be an internet connection in our next hotel, it could be a while until I get another chance…
