The best of both worlds

The sweet scent of pink cherry blossoms lining D.C.'s Tidal Basin invites a multitude of sightseers to the nation's capital every year, and Saturday I got the chance to play tourist and partake in the festivities.

Two of my sorority sisters who have moved across the country flew back to the East Coast for a weekend in Washington, D.C., giving a group of us the excuse to gather for a quasi-reunion. Lucky for us, it also happened to be the opening weekend of the famed Cherry Blossom Festival.

I arrived in D.C. Friday afternoon, welcomed by long-lost friends who couldn't wait to hear about how my life was going, and tell me about theirs. A few of my cronies are accountants (a profession that would kill me), a few are teachers and another is in grad school for psychology at Northwestern. Already seeing clients, she had some great stories, including one about a guy who told her he has eight children living in his heart. Or something like that.

They loved hearing about my life as a reporter in a small town - light years from their lives in Chicago, D.C., San Francisco or Richmond - and I loved telling them stories about my latest social affairs, including a friend's 77th birthday party last week at the country club.

"Catty, I think you need to get out more," they said. But they didn't realize that my AARP card-carrying cohorts keep up with the best of 'em at our weekly jazz and wine nights. Last Wednesday my college roommate of three years joined the festivities and can't wait to come back for another round. And my mother is already planning a visit next week to meet everyone I've been gabbing about for months.

By the end of the weekend, I think I convinced everyone to come visit the "one and only" Culpeper. I swear, I should be on the tourism department's payroll.

Though a few days in D.C. made me appreciate small-town life, it also instilled in me a longing for the conveniences and experiences of big cities. We traversed the capital, stopping for hokey pictures outside the White House and along the Mall.

Windblown kites swarmed the sky surrounding the Washington Monument and traffic slowly crept along the route to the Tidal Basin as throngs of tourists herded toward the Jefferson Memorial.

We spent the day among the blossoms, not noticing the sun's rays beating down upon us in the chilly but pleasant weather. (Not until hours later did I realize I'd acquired a sun-kissed forehead and nose from the deceivingly strong sun.) After a delectable Mexican dinner at Moe's, we accrued a few more University of Richmond grads and gathered at my friend's apartment in Arlington. To the tunes of Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana (yeah, we're dorks), we prepared for an evening in Georgetown.

You would think that in a city as big as D.C. you'd rarely run into a familiar face, but Saturday night at the Saloun could have doubled as a mini homecoming at UR. Between catching up with old classmates and getting serenaded by Melvin, the bar's infamous crooner, we celebrated our reunion in style.

I spent a weekend in Washington last month and took the train to avoid traffic. But this time I drove and was pleased to find the route easily navigable. Sometimes I forget the majestic sights of our nation's capital are essentially in Culpeper's backyard, giving me the freedom to live in the country and spend the weekend in the city. And with so many friends in the area, I have every reason to make the painless trip as often as possible, though I hate to miss out on the escapades I know will ensue in Culpeper while I'm away.

Catherine Amos brags to city folk about the 'Pep as often as possible. She can be reached at 825-0771 ext. 138 or .