Lost love: Washington city plan

I thought that one of the things I liked about Washington was the city plan. It's based on a grid but with circles (eg Logan Circle) that look like stars as the diagonal streets radiate out of it. The East-West streets have letter names (eg P Street) and the North-South ones, numeral names (eg 14th Street). The diagonal avenues have State names (eg Florida Avenue). The city is divided in four quarters (NW, NE, SE, SW), originating from the Capitol.

I have the sense of orientation of a falling leaf, so I marvel at how easy it is to find one's way with such a system. You're at 4th and P NW and you want to go at 17th and U NE? Head East (in the direction where numeral names go down) and North (where letter names go up).

The circles and diagonal streets bring variety into what would be a monotonous city plan of right angles. It creates small parks or large intersections where the eye can take a larger view of the city.

That was my perception before. I have cooled off to Washington's city plan.

First, it's not applied rigorously. Follow me on 17th street NW as we cross P Street, Church Street, Q Street, Corcoran Street, R Street. Have you noticed something? Q street is not right after P street! It's probably because Church street is an interrupted street. Good explanation, but I get confused (and lost) anyway. And how can I go from Church street to Corcoran street if I don't know my way? It's back to map again as the street organization can't help me.

Second, the circles don't seem well organized. I rarely drive, but when West Wing makes fun of Dupont Circle on National TV, there must be a problem. For a pedestrian, they are also unpleasant as they create detours out there in the open where you can perfectly see that you're wasting your steps.

Third, those diagonal streets may vary the landscape but they also create many awkward corners. Are we supposed to cross here? To go over there? Is there enough time? What if I want to go there? It's places you have to get used to before being at ease and that's not good planning to me.

My green Giant

When asked if I do sports, I reply that I'm a cyclist. Not much of an athlete, but if there's anything that I both like and do regularly, it's biking.

About 8 years ago, I bought my first real road bike. It was a long decision process involving too many humiliating lectures by salespeople who loved their knowledge more than customer service. But in the end, I found my green Giant and I have a clear memory of leaving the dealership sitting proudly on it.

Ever since, I participated in amateur competitions, covered thousands of kilometers and commuted to many jobs and universities. My green Giant was both able to do it all and ill-adapted to all: sturdy but heavy, not-so-narrow, seat too low for competition and too high for commuting. It was the perfect bike.

Yesterday, Washington stole my bike.

Honky town

Trees border the street in HONKight proces HONK that guides and protects equally the pedestrian walking his dog, the cyHONK sitting straight with her eyes on the horizon, and the cat on a a morning adventHONK. The sun is way into his rise to power HONK this morning and makes the HONK green of the grass sharp and inviting. HOOOOONK HOOONK HOOOONK.

Car horns are spoiling my stay in Washington.

Swiss people must be among the most restrained people in the world. Yet, they managed to peeve me with their honking anyway. Imagine what I'm going through in DC. It's New New Delhi in here. Honking came to mean anything: "You're not fast enough", "You're in my way", "You could have caught this green light", "Want a ride? I'm a cabbie!", "You don't drive like me!", etc.

Anything, but "CAREFUL! Wooo! That was close!" as they were meant to be. For those who never left Washington, you will be surprised to hear that honks are first, foremost and only meant to signal a danger. (kudos to myself for resisting to the urge of using capital letters)

I contemplated the idea of outlawing horns, but you can't punish the sense-abiding citizen for all those self-important drivers. So I resorted to my very own solution: I stare. I try every time I hear honking to catch the eyes of the culprit and send a message: "Why is it that you're so annoying?"

What honkers do not understand - but who can blame them for not having gone through physics - is that the sound of a horn is not directional. It blares the whole environment. Nobody knows who they're honking at until they look (unless they are 2 inches away from their target). Pedestrians hear it, all cars around hear it. People in their houses hear it, damn it! In a dense city like Washington, it must be 500 people at a time who hear a car honking.

So, what is so important that it deserves to alert all these people?