(Note: See Part 1)
The town boasts of being the first named after President George Washington. While I can understand their having pride in that, it’s the barbecue sauce that first made it stand out for me. We’re not here to discuss the possible uses of cider vinegar, so I saved that for TripAdvisor.com and Yelp.
After my second day’s work, I made my way back to the waterfront to continue my quest for good sunset colors on the water. I grabbed a few quick shots of buildings and then focused my attention on more natural scenes.
A public riverside park just south of town failed to provide me an inspiring view, so I continued south, determined to reach the shore in time. I turned right onto the first road that seemed to head that direction, and tall, narrow trees formed a dense forest in swampy land on both sides. I slowed as the road ended at a “T” intersection.
The only thing that stood between the river and me was… a large, multi-level colonial-style home. On either side of it, stretching as far as the road went, were more large homes of varying architectural styles equally adept at blocking my inner photographer from getting the view I needed.
(click any pic to enlarge)
I repeated this on two more roads, still further south. At a small clearing I stopped where a pond reflected the colors of the sky. Mosquitoes swarmed me by the time I snapped off a few shots, and I swept them off before ducking back into the car. Okay, so I smeared one of them off, but I’ll spare you the gory details. By then the main route was beginning to wander away from the river, so I assumed defeat and turned north to enjoy at least a good meal.
Before the bridge that crossed into the public park, a few trees draped in Spanish moss caught my eye. I hung a left onto a freshly-paved road and soon found myself on a divided drive featuring posh homes on my left and open views of brilliant orange river on my right. A fence, ostensibly put there to prevent non-residents from accessing the shore, blocked my way.
I pulled the car over and, remembering the mosquitoes from earlier, rolled down the opposite rear passenger’s window. My long lens got me past the fence and the landscape, and a jogger looked at me a little funny until he saw what I was doing. I managed to capture the colors and some of that hanging moss while suffering only one additional bite.
Happy with my results, I found the wonderful local restaurant called Pia’s nestled among Washington’s Historic District, next to the Turnage Theater. It’s hard to tell just how vibrant businesses are at the end of the tourist season, but many seem to be making a go of it. I regret that I never made it downtown in time to visit “I Can’t Believe It’s a Bookstore,” housed in the former Bank of Washington building.
A local coffee shop and bar called Notes Cafe served me a delicious decaf espresso martini, but there was no live music the night I was there. I never did go to Bill’s Hot Dogs, where the spicy white chili is purportedly a must-have.
My position rarely demands a second visit to the customer’s site, but Washington, North Carolina is a town I would like to see again.