We were greeted by our couch surfing host upon arrival in Washington. Jim, a 54 year old paeodophile and his brazilian rent boy Mario. The horror on our faces was as sharp as the smile on their's as they contemplated the 'fresh meat', that had just arrived at their door. He may have been a dodgy fella but he had a really nice house.
Bottoms intact, we left to see the sights of Washington. 15 minutes in we realise Ollie took us the wrong direction. First stop, the White House. We were surprised at how small it was compared to our expectations from the movies. At least we got to see some snipers on roof. Dissapointingly Ben wouldn't take the $50 bet to run across the front lawn!
Lincoln Memorial - Big Abe himself! Quite a sight to behold, we wait an age to get in front of the oversized misery guts and have our pictures taken. Andrew ponders with the notion of us all sitting on his lap for a pic but decides it's best not to in the presence of trigger happy security guards and their hand cannons.
Washington monument - penis jokes galore, "This testament to me almost does me justice".
Aerospace museum - this was very impressive. The collection spans from simple hand gliders to WWII rockets to Space shuttles. We particularly enjoy the WWII fighter plane exhibits and take in the glory of the mighty Spitfire. Looking at pictures of Nazi planes and airships Ben breaks into song "My grandad shot your grandad down" ...
Capitol building - Took an age to walk to from the Lincoln memorial and Andrew's pit stops every 100 yards took a toll on time but we finally make it. Impressive, looks like what the White House should have been!
National Archives - The Declaration of Independence, Bill of Rights, The US Constitution. A cold room with lots of documents. A brief stop in and we're away.
That night we decide to take our host Jim to a meal for his hospitality and taking Andrew and Ollie in at such short notiice. The meal goes surprisingly smoothly and we come to realise that Jim is actually quite a sound guy. Just as we leave the table I forget about my rucksack (with laptop inside) and Ben decides it would be funny to hide it and remind me a few minutes down the road that I forgot my back pack. After a sprint to give Linford Christi a run for his money I return to find I'm the butt of a practical joke that even made our dry humored Jim chuckle.
Jim heads home and we hit the bars. Not much luck that night as we find ourselves surrounded by rainbow flags and men in make up! We soon decide to call it a night and drag Ben out of the bar kicking a screaming.
The next morning we pack up and get ready for another afternoon on the Greyhound coach, but not before Ollie launches another attack on Andrews gullability, convincing him that Jim's dog brought his shoes up the stairs and placed them in Andrews bag for him. Our dear Andrew, what ever will we do with you!