THERE GOES THE NEIGHBOURHOOD

WEIRDEST THING I SAW TODAY: a bus with bikes on the front (like this one, but not this one)

It would seem that I'm going to have to accept that I don't have the complexion for this kind of relentless sunny sunshine. After meeting Max for lunch (skipping down the street to The Husbands on my iPod), I felt all funny when I got back to the apartment, so stayed inside for the rest of the day. 

But not before meeting a neighbour from one of two apartments with which we share our floor. Anne lives with her cousin Megan and seems about the same age as us. She was off to spend the night in a cabin with friends and seemed to have way more poker chips in her bag than anything remotely practical or useful for such a jaunt. I think we will be friends.

While recovering from my suspected sunstroke, I got a tip from Max that there was a car chase on the news, so tuned in and watched until the lady who'd stolen the car from a hire company was stopped outside Orange County and approached by state troopers brandishing rifles and stuff. It was all very exciting and American. Though I did get a bit uneasy at one point, realising that watching it all happen live is great, until something awful happens, which it could well have done. I also wondered what the woman hoped to achieve - outrunning the police (for two hours, by the time I tuned in) seemed an ambitious move at best.

Making the most of my enforced indoors-ness, I also caught up with my friend Lissa's excellent articles on Jude Rogers' excellent Lipster. Alas, the articles were so excellent that they made me want to stop blogging - and writing in general - forever (erm, I've managed to get over it...).

We figured it was time to check out Adams Morgan for supper, so headed up 18th Street, where we found a whole new and extremely exciting, buzzing neighbourhood. Who knew?! Seriously, it's just a couple of blocks up from the faux-Elgin, where we've been hanging out.

Adams Morgan seems to basically be about four or five blocks of 18th Street, lined with restaurants offering every cuisine you can imagine. There are lots of cool-looking bars, shisha cafes, jumbo pizza slice shops and the odd record shop thrown in for good measure. On a warm Friday evening, it feels like walking down the main drag in a very nice holiday resort in Europe. There were loads of people milling around and a great atmosphere. If Max and I went to a different restaurant there every week of our stay, we wouldn't get to them all, but we're excited by the idea of trying.

There was a Brazilian restaurant called the Grill From Ipanema (Max mainly only eats in places with puns), a great looking sushi place with a massive roof terrace strewn with twinkly fairy lights and a couple of fancy-looking French bistros, too. 

It's so exciting to have such a neighbourhood on our doorstep and it was good to make a mental note of places to go for special nights out and stuff. 

My excitement may have been fuelled by the many rum cocktails that I had with supper in the bar we plumped for (where we were served by a CRAZY waitress lady extremely high on amphetamines). They certainly fuelled my dancing on the street to Whitney Houston as we walked past one place on our way home. Max has had an exhausting first week flying solo at work, so wearily pulled me along the street as I tried to jig about and soak up the atmosphere. Poor fellow. I was just excited to be out of the house!