Shutdown in Washington DC

Today the streets of Washington DC are quiet. Temporary metal fences have been pulled across the entrances to museums and monuments and hastily laminated signs hang at an angle: “Because of the federal government shutdown, this facility is closed.” With all but the most essential US government staff sent home, attractions across the city (and the country) have had to close their doors to visitors.

The majority of Washington’s museums are operated by the Smithsonian Institution, a government-run organisation. On a normal day this is good news – it means the museums are free. But today it is bad news – because every last one of them is closed. Want to visit the National Museum of American History? You can’t. Want to see the Declaration of Independence? Tough. Want to pay your respects to World War II veterans? Sorry.

Today, walking along the Mall, heart of the world’s largest museum complex, is like exploring a film set. Apart from the odd lone jogger, there isn’t a person in sight. Leaves tumble along empty pavements and even the refreshment kiosks are closed.

I head instead to 9^th Street and take a seat at the counter of Lincoln’s Waffle Shop. The FordTheater across the street (where Lincoln was shot) has closed its doors and disappointed tourists who haven’t yet heard the news wander up and then away again. People stop to take pictures of the signs on their mobile phones. Even the waffle house is quieter than normal; though on the upside, with the markets running scared those waffles are slightly cheaper than they were a few days ago.

But all is not lost. The solution for visitors lies just a few steps away, at the International SpyMuseum, and in the Newseum. These privately operated museums continue to open as normal and there are plenty of them to explore. Visitors can also still enjoy the exteriors of the city’s buildings – the White House, the Capitol, the Washington Memorial. The architecture of these attractions is perhaps their most impressive feature anyway – and that is one thing that cannot be shutdown. 

New Miner's Route at Wieliczka Salt Mine

“Room for one more” I am told as I am gently nudged into what looks to me like an already-full-to-capacity lift. The doors are pulled across behind me with much scraping of metal and we move up – by about five metres.

This will happen twice more before we can finally descend the 57 metres into Wieliczka salt mine. This is so that we can load more people into the lift’s other levels, packing us in quite literally on top of each other. It is hot, cramped and uncomfortable – I feel like I am getting an insight into the life of a miner already, just a few minutes into my three-hour tour.

This is the new Miner’s Route, and it starts with this descent by lift down the oldest existing mine shaft to be found here, the Regis shaft. The lift is not completely enclosed and so I watch the shaft’s walls rushing past as we descend at a speed of four metres a second. By the time we reach the bottom, just 15 seconds later, I am completely disorientated – and very glad of our guide.

He leads us along tunnels only just tall enough to avoid bashing our hard hats on the ceilings and points out the wooden beams holding it all in place. At various points on the walls and particularly in the joints of the wood we see cauliflower-like deposits of salt – it feels like salt is seeping out of every one of the earth’s pores here.

But the most remarkable thing is the size of the tunnel network. Just 1% of the mine is open to visitors and yet we walk for hours, clambering up ladders and marching down endless flights of stairs. There is chamber after chamber to explore. We see the remnants of the so-called “Hungarian dog” transport system, a simple wooden cart pulled along runners in the ground, and are taught everything from how to measure the methane levels in the air to how to use a pickaxe to dislodge salt from the walls.

We really start to feel like the novice miners we have been cast as, trudging along in our grey boiler suits, and I must be doing something right because I am picked out to navigate our way back to the lift. I am handed a map of the mine and that feeling of disorientation immediately returns, there are tunnels in every direction, looping off and circling back on several different levels. I turn the map this way and that and eventually identify a couple of landmarks. A few minutes later we arrive at our final destination – a modern lift back up and out into the sunlight.

We have reached a depth of 101 metres but there are still hundreds of metres below us, not to mention another 240-odd kilometres of tunnels we haven’t even set foot in. This is a truly vast mine. We may have hacked off a chunk of it with a pickaxe on this tour, but we have barely scratched the surface.

Wieliczka Salt Mine is located just outside Krakow, in the south of Poland. The Miner’s Route tour costs 76 zloty (about £15)

The Edinburgh Festival

Colourful flyers are being thrust at me from all directions. My phone is beeping with a reminder that it is time to see a show (what I have no idea). I have a sandwich in one hand, a bottle of water in the other and frankly, my feet hurt. I am standing – not even walking now – on the Royal Mile and I am going to have to admit that I am lost. This is the Edinburgh Festival and it has completely overwhelmed me.

I am not easily overwhelmed. I deal well with the frenetic, am not afraid of choice and tend to operate at a pace few others can keep up with. But it turns out that the festival is not something to “keep up with”. Grand plans to see everything, stick to a schedule, attend every recommended show, all go out of the window as soon as you step out of your hotel – and don’t even think about picking up that phonebook-thick programme.  

There is just so, so much of it. Because this is not just one festival, but a collection of several. My main focus is the Festival Fringe but zoning in on this does not narrow things down – because the Fringe is the largest arts festival in the world. There is music, comedy, theatre, cabaret, dance and everything in between. There are hundreds of venues, thousands of performers and what feels like millions of spectators.

Time to calm down. I step off the street into a basement where a comedy show is promising free cake. And suddenly I get it – I need to let the festival take control. So that’s exactly what I do. I stay on for the next show, partly because it is half price as I’m already here, and partly because it sounds fun. I duck into random shows when it starts to rain, choose what to see based on being in the right place at the right time, and start talking to those flyer distributors. 

It is fabulous. I discover that the Book Festival on Charlotte Square is an excellent retreat from the melee and has great coffee. I sit knee to knee with strangers to hear Ben Champion’s hilarious Autocorrect song and am challenged to confront society’s prejudice of those with so-called “special needs” at Rai Lina’s Thpethial. I even find a love of Scottish folk music – complete with bagpipes, fiddle, guitar, flute and traditional dance – at Breabach’s fantastic Assembly Rooms show. 

No, I didn’t see everything I thought I would. And no, I didn’t end up seeing anything I actually took a flyer for. But I did see a man squeeze himself through a tennis racket – and I did have a fabulous time. I will definitely be back next year.

STAY:

Tune has small but perfectly formed budget rooms with double beds, power showers and fast wifi. Located opposite Haymarket station it is on a direct line into Waverley station and is just 20 minutes walk from the Royal Mile and Princes Street.