Down by the Bay: 24 Hours in Annapolis

 

Friday, July 27, 2012 – Down by the Bay:  24 Hours in Annapolis

We got back around midday from a mini-staycation (only 24 hours) in Annapolis, Maryland.  The travel time from Fairfax is just over an hour, but it involves driving on the Beltway (anxiety level rises) and crossing the Potomac.  We met up there with Marie-Claude, Peter, and Darren, who drove down from Baltimore for the day.  They also brought Tyler along since he’s staying with them this week.  Despite the schvitz*-worthy weather (I was drenched in sweat within seconds of exiting the air-conditioned car), we spent most of the day walking around the campus of the NavalAcademy.  Our first stop was the museum, which had exhibits on the role of the Navy in American history.  In addition, the museum had a collection of model ships, including one made of animal bones, which was carved by French prisoners of war in the early 1800s.  Interesting, if you’re interested in that sort of thing.  

Tyler, Peter and Elliott at the Naval Academy

The campus itself was quite lovely.  Since it’s the summer, the only students on campus were the “plebes,” whom we viewed drilling formations – please help me here – my knowledge of military terminology is abysmal.  Basically, there were lots of new navy students in white uniforms marching in lines.  I think they have to do this everyday before they can go to lunch.  And speaking of lunch, we were hot and starving after our museum visit.  So instead of seeking out more interesting options (crabcakes, anyone?) on the waterfront, we ate in the visitors’ cafeteria on campus.  Throughout my 20-year teaching career, I’d avoided eating a single meal in a school cafeteria.  The cardboard pizza and iceberg lettuce salad I ate at the Academy yesterday confirmed the wisdom of that decision.  I just hope they’re feeding our future military officers food that is more nourishing and tasty.  

After lunch, Elliott and I tried to stay in the shade on our walk across campus to see the Levy Center, with its Jewish chapel.  The building was completed in 2005 and the pale stone structure is a beautiful and serene oasis.  Inside, the sanctuary, designed to accommodate Jewish students of all levels of observance, contains a rather unusual cylindrical ark where the Torah scrolls are kept. From the exhibits in the Center, we learned a lot about Commodore Uriah P. Levy, for whom the center is named, and about other Jewish naval officers.  Outside the building, there is a meditation garden, where we might have stopped if the weather hadn’t been so blisteringly hot.  

By mid-afternoon, we’d reached our limit for walking in the heat, although I must say that Elliott tolerated the hot, humid weather better than I did.  We made a brief stop by the dock to hydrate (ice cream for Elliott, iced coffee for me) before we sought out our hotel on nearby West Street.  Somehow, we managed to get a tiny bit lost on our way there, so we were especially glad to check in and cool off for a couple of hours.  O’Callaghan’s is part of a Dublin-based hotel chain, so we were treated to a warm Irish welcome upon our arrival.   

After resting up, we ventured out in the early evening in search of real food for dinner.  Even though the sun was low, the temperatures were still in the schvitzing range, so we didn’t want to go far.  Fortunately, just a few blocks from the hotel, we found a restaurant called Level, whose innovative menu featured small plates using locally sourced ingredients.  Unfortunately, I left my camera behind, so I’ll try to give you a cursory description of the meal we enjoyed:  a small platter with goat gouda, tapenade, and pickled cherries, accompanied by crispy flatbread; tender grilled calamari with crispy fried capers; sautéed veal medallions with mizuna greens and fennel; a bubbling hot mini peach cobbler served in its own tiny cast iron cauldron.  I'm not quite sure how my glass of wine, a shiraz from Australia’s Barossa Valley, qualified as local, but it paired so well with the cheese.

Our plan was to do an early morning exploration of the historic area on Friday before heading back home.  The temperatures were already climbing dangerously when we set out around 9.  The free Circulator trolley dropped us off at Church Circle, the site of St. Anne’s, an Episcopal Church that dates back to colonial times.  Also at the circle, Elliott pointed out the Maryland Inn where he stayed with his parents in 1914 – when he was two years old!  We strolled down Main Street, with all of its restaurants and shops, to the dock area with all of the boats.  It’s definitely a quaint and scenic area.  Since the stores weren’t open yet, Elliott didn’t have to fear that I’d acquire any souvenirs of the trip.  (I admit that I show signs of being a shopaholic when I travel.)  Elliott has his own travel-related obsession, namely looking at real estate.  Whenever we passed a real estate agency, we’d stop and look at the listings in the window.  At one agency, which was open early, we even went inside and asked for some information.  Don’t worry – we’re not moving to Annapolis, at least not yet.  

Elliott in front of the Helle Hansen store on Main Street

*I’ll end with a Yiddish lesson:  The word schvitz is a verb that means sweat.  Don’t think of sweat in the delicate sense of a polite sheen of dampness, but a profuse, uninhibited outpouring.  It’s a word often used by Jews of my grandparents’ generation, but it’s clearly been incorporated into the vocabulary of Americans of all ethnic backgrounds.  Case in point – last Sunday, I was listening to one of my favorite programs, Car Talk, on NPR, with hosts Tom and Ray, both Italian-Americans.  One of them made the comment, in a thick Boston accent, about the hordes of “schvitzing tourists in Hahvuhd Square.”  So schvitz is one of those linguistic gems that has gone from ethnic to mainstream.