There's a real joy I occasionally experience when traveling, when the combination of a new environment, the weather, and a dash of familiarity come together in the perfect day. And today was such a day. It started auspiciously when I listened to my hometown soccer team, Newcastle United, get a good last-minute result in their opening day of the season. I then ventured out into the beautiful Summer day outside. Despite forecasts of lowered temperatures, it was still very, very hot today. But the humidity had dropped a bit, and the skies were blue, with towering piles of white fluffy clouds, and everything looked so green. I was staying with my friend Josh in some neighborhood I wasn't familiar with, not far from the National Cathedral.

Dupont Circle on a perfect Summer day

I started out with brunch in Dupont Circle, reading the Sunday New York Times. Then walked down the baking Connecticut Avenue to the Corcoran Gallery, a museum I'd somehow omitted to visit in the past, and which now drew me because of the exhibition "The Impressionists in America". In the cafe, I stopped to listen to a fairly awe-inspiring gospel performance by a group of elderly African-Americans called "The Queens of Faith" (plus male guests). The acoustics didn't favor them (from afar it just sounded like shouting). But up close, their enjoyment and feeling was infectious, even to a lost-cause atheist like myself.

The Queens of Faith (plus guests)

The exhibition was a real tonic - one of the most enjoyable small exhibitions I've been to. A wonderful collection of mostly American impressionist paintings. I liked how many of the paintings truly captured a sense of time, place and mood. And there were many connections to other times and places for myself too. The exhibition notes talked about the Florence Griswold House at Old Lyme, Connecticut, which I visited in 1999: it was the center of the first real Impressionist movement in America. And also about a later movement of "Pennsylvania Impressionism" in New Hope, a little town I used to visit from Philly (mainly to go to a gay bar called the Cartwheel). Some of the paintings of the Pennsylvania countryside in Winter only added to my growing, nostalgia-fueled desire to return to live on the East Coast permanently. San Francisco apart, I feel so much more at home on the East Coast than on the West.

"Woods in Winter", by John Fabian Carlson

Outside the Corcoran, waiting for Josh. (The Old Executive Office Building is in the background.) With perfect timing, Josh had called me almost as soon as I walked out of the museum. He was back from church, and offered to pick me up.

Josh was tired, so I got him to drop me at the National Cathedral, which I've never visited before. I hadn't even been up close to it before now, and bathed in sunlight, my eyes newly attuned to beauty after the exhibition, the cathedral looked beautiful and peaceful against the blue sky. I guess I didn't know this, but it was completed in 1990, after 83 years of construction. It sits on a hill called Mount St Alban, which made me think of my Dad, who not only lives in St Albans, England, but loves gothic cathedrals. I think he would like this one. It's set on long, green lawns, and has a lot of quiet nooks and crannies, both inside and out.

A peaceful little cloister outside the National Cathedral

The view from the 7th floor.

Columns, steps and architectural objects of uncertain nomenclature

A sun filled coridoor

It was stunningly hot, so I retired to a nearby Starbucks for a hot decaf, and my latest frequent indulgance, a Summer Bliss Blueberry Bar. I called up my Dad to tell him about the cathedral, and talk about soccer, then got down to writing most of this journal. Josh picked me up, and then I was home. It was a lovely early evening, so I went for a run along an extremely rugged trail through the remote part of Rockcreek Park near Josh's house. I had to leap across streams, trudge through mud, dodge low-hanging branches, and clamber across fallen tree trunks. So I returned home rather muddy. And now the perfect day is slowing down for me out here on Josh's deck, where all I can hear are birds, insects and the occasional car.

Washington D.C., Sunday late night/Monday early morning, Aug 18, 2003, 3:10 AM

I'd arrived in D.C. on Friday evening, after a four hour so called Metroliner trip from New York. The train had stopped at all the stations the Metroliner normally thumbs its nose at. But it was a nice ride all the same. We arrived in Philly around sunset, and the magnificent Art Museum on the banks of the Schuylykill was bathed in red light. Later, in the misty, grey evening, we passed large lakes where you could see occasional boats heading out into the murk.

Shaun, my ex, picked me up at Union Station. He looks amazingly good for a fourty year old man. He's aged very well, and has lost weight since I last saw him. We had dinner at a wonderful Mexican place called Lauriol Plaza and got thoroughly drunk over a pitcher of a frozen mix of margarita and daiquiri, and complimented each other on surviving into old age still looking good. I realized that Shawn was now the person I've known the longest in this country whom I'm still in touch with - fifteen years. And he'll always have a special place in my affections, being the only man I've ever really been in love with.

On Saturday, Shaun dropped me off at Josh's place. By now it was hot, muggy and rather unpleasant, and I was tired after two nights of poor sleep. It was good to see Josh, but the day was rather slow. In fact, I spent a good portion of it snoozing in Josh's bedroom. In the evening, we had dinner in Dupont Circle. It was a lovely, warm evening, and we sat outside as the skies occasionally flashed with distant lightning. For some reason, Josh drove us to a movie theater in the most distant part of Alexandria, where we watched T3. When we came out, it was raining. And that was the end of Saturday, apart from a rather ignoble tussle with a very large moth that got in the car, and a brief argument with Josh, who, to my surprise, seems to think gay people chose their sexuality.

I don't know why it is, but I'm indefatigable today. Just got back from a night of mayhem on the town. Started off the evening with dinner at a Mediterranean place near Dupont Circle with Shaun and Josh. It was the first time they'd met, really, and it was nice that they hit it off. I felt proud to be sharing the evening with two such lovely men. Josh and I have had some differences on this trip, but I'm still thankful that he's in my life.

Afterwards, Shaun and I went to a great dance club called Lizard Lounge (or was it Lounge Lizard?) It's funny how things have reversed a little. When we were going out, it was always Shaun who could never leave the dance floor, and would take his shirt off. Now it's me. I guess my time has come, belatedly. I had a great time - best time I've ever had at a club in D.C. And today was definitely a day to remember.