A quiet city comes to life ten floors down from my room at the Hotel Monaco. My early morning view’s a mad swirl of architectural style and history: domed and steepled churches, repurposed factories, red brick row houses, skyscrapers.
Very quiet down there. A few buses. A few people. No need for helicopters to buzz a sleeping city.
Our wedding party was a little late breaking up; by the time an army attorney defending the 9/11 plotters dropped her at her hotel (did UD remember they were at Guantanamo awaiting a perennially delayed trial? she did not.), it was 10:30 (curfew’s at ten). UD crossed the threshold to her hotel without incident.
Baltimore’s unfazed, far as I can tell, by recent events. The restaurant where we had post-ceremony drinks, toasts, and insane amounts of food (standout dish: a dessert plank – a narrow piece of wood, practically the length of the table, on which perched a massive array of sweets – marmalade upside down cake, maple pudding, pecan pie) was packed.
I sat next to the instaminister (apparently you fill out a simple online form) who officiated at the event – a politician of local renown named Maggie McIntosh. She and her wife, whose Baltimore house is just down the street from John Waters’ place, invited UD to their Lewes house – a renovated church (having checked it out online before the wedding, UD spent some time last night attempting to wangle just such an invitation).
And what of UD‘s plans for today? I need to get back to DC pretty soon – but it occurs to me that this is probably just the morning to see – finally – the National Aquarium (half-price admission!)