Connecticut Avenue, Washington D.C.

I get to Washington D.C. about four times a year.

When I visit, I tend to hang around Connecticut Avenue.  A stretch of bars, restaurants, shops, and hotels a little northwest of the White House.  

It is a pretty easy ride on the Metro, but you do need to switch trains.

You take the Blue Line (Largo Town Center) from Reagan National Airport to Metro Center and then the Red Line (Shady Grove) to Dupont Circle.  Once surfaced, you are there.

At the top of the station, chiseled into the granite, is a portion of Walt Whiman's poem, The Wound Dresser:

    Thus in silence in dreams’ projections,
    Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the hospitals;
    The hurt and wounded I pacify with soothing hand,
    I sit by the restless all the dark night – some are so young;
    Some suffer so much – I recall the experience sweet and sad…

Whitman volunteered in Washington's hospitals during the civil war and according to this post, city leaders were looking to honor those who nursed the sick during the early days of the HIV crisis.

Once in the vicinity, my rituals include strolling through Embassy Row west of Dupont Circle, reflecting at the statue of the Goddess Saraswati, and Bistrot Du Coin.


I was introduced to this French Gem by my friend Brian.  It is now a non-negotiable destination for me.

My routine is always the same.  I squeeze past the people waiting on a table and find a spot at the bar. I order Le Steak Maison and relax.

When I can, as sometimes I am priced out, I stay at The Fairfax.

In addition to just being a fantastic hotel, it has one of the most resplendent back-room bars I have found.

The warm light from the fireplace creates the perfect atmosphere for weary travelers to talk and plan.