It’s the first time I’ve flown with Virgin for 20 years and my expectations are high. It’s therefore disappointing that the food is awful, the seats are old and the entertainment screens keep breaking. Worst of all, a member of staff is late which means I was sitting on the plane for two hours before it even takes off.

Most people get off the plane in Antigua, and following some security checks it takes off again for the final 50 minutes towards San Juan. After 13 hours, I’ve finally arrived in Puerto Rico.

Following a successful year, my company rewards staff (and their ‘plus one’) with a holiday. It tends to be a beach resort in the Caribbean, so Susanne and I are extremely lucky that this year is Puerto Rico, where there are dozens of things to do aside from sitting on a beach. There are a couple of dinners and a day of company-organised activities, but I’ve added four days to the beginning of the trip to explore the rest of the island.

As a US colony, I don’t get to tick off another new country, but I’m still surprised at how American it is. Once we collect the hire car, I’m shocked at the number of chain stores and restaurants. We drive west and there’s a burger place almost every single kilometre. It’s built up and a bit dirty, but aside from the road signs in Spanish, it really feels like the US.

The road gets less busy the further from San Juan we travel. About 80km along the motorway, we take a turn towards Utuado, which means we’re heading south into the rural centre of the island. It’s pitch black outside, but the headlights illuminate the twisting road into the jungle. As we reach the Casa Grande Mountain Retreat, it feels like we’ve suddenly been transported into Latin America. Locals sit by the road with friends, food and drinks; the bamboo trees hang over our heads and the dogs sleep in the middle of the road without a care in the world.

I couldn’t ask for a better setting: The only thing separating me from the thick, forest trees and plants is the mosquito netting. The jungle noises make me feel a million miles away from home and I’m asleep the moment my head hits the pillow.

Day 2 (10 April 2011)
Rio Abajo Forest, Camuy Caves

We wake refreshed and finally get to see the jungle that surrounds the lodge. It’s a beautiful setting with plants and geckos everywhere and the sunshine lights up the luscious, green valley. We drive to the Camuy Caves and it’s a much more enjoyable drive now that the landscape is visible.

However, as I sit on the mini-train that takes us down to the entrance of the caves, it suddenly feels like I’m in Disneyland. It’s so touristy and there are screaming kids everywhere; it’s a complete contrast to the remote setting this morning. I was expecting a more adventurous caving adventure, but there simply isn’t enough time for anything aside from this main tour. However, the caves are massive and impressive nonetheless.

The plan was to drive south to Gilligan’s Island, but the twisting roads mean that it takes a lot longer than expected to get anywhere, so we decide to go to Lago Dos Bocas instead, where there are half a dozen small boats waiting to take guests to the various restaurants that are only accessible by water. The restaurant is not bad, but the views make it much better and it’s a relaxing end to the day.

Day 3 (11 April 2011)
Utuado, Ponce, Cerro de Punta

The rain overnight was immense. It sounded like the sky was falling and if I wasn’t so comfortable I would have jumped out of bed and danced in the rain! It means the clouds have shifted by the time I wake and the sun is stronger than ever. The plan is to climb the highest mountain in Puerto Rico, so we have another hearty breakfast before driving south. It involves driving along the Routa Panoramica, which is the mountain road that runs horizontally across the island. The road twists and turns like a roller coaster and there are regular, stunning views across the valleys to the Caribbean Ocean.

We drop our luggage off at our Hilton hotel in Ponce, which is great, even if it is the complete opposite to the jungle lodge. The room is massive and has a gorgeous view across the sea. Fortunately, like the jungle, it’s practically devoid of tourists. However, it’s clearly a resort that normally caters for families who don’t want to leave the hotel grounds: The staff are really confused when I explain that we’re driving back into the mountains. They think we’re checking out and can’t understand what other reason could explain our desire to leave!

The route to Cerro de Punta is beautiful and we’re really thrown into local Puerto Rican life. The American fast food chains are nowhere to be seen and the village life thrives in every direction. Unfortunately, this does mean that the climb to the highest point on the island is rather underwhelming. Whilst the views at the top are great (one can see the ocean on both sides of the mountain), it’s certainly not a trek and no effort has been made for tourists who want to climb it without a car.

It’s a bit late in the day to be visiting a coffee farm, so instead we head back to Ponce and briefly explore the black-sanded beach before going to the town centre for dinner. It’s a lovely little picturesque town with strong Spanish influences, but it’s completely empty. I’m not complaining (quite the opposite); I just can’t understand the volume of traffic on the surrounding roads when the town is so dead. We locate an Argentine restaurant and it’s hugely relaxing to sit outside in the warm evening air with empanadas, a massive steak and an even bigger piece of chocolate cake!

Day 4 (12 April 2011)
Ponce, Guanica, Gilligan’s Island

Today was supposed to be a day trip to Canon San Cristobal. However, we missed out on Gilligan’s Island on day two, so we decide to skip the trek in favour of the famous island, just off the coast from Guanica. It’s a great decision as it’s by far the most spectacular part of the trip so far. Mary Lee, a US pensioner who escaped Cuba in the 60s, lends us a two-man kayak, and we paddle across the crystal blue waters towards the island. It’s only one kilometre away, yet hardly anyone is doing the same. We find a deserted part of the island and it’s truly beautiful. The contrasts of colour, the strange vegetation which appears to grow upside down and the large variety of fish is everything I imagined the Caribbean to be.

Back on the mainland, we’re pulling the kayak back onto shore when we get the fright of our lives: Two enormous iguanas shuffle past us, so I grab my camera and chase them down the path as the dozens of crabs disappear behind the rocks. Suddenly, a rat darts across the path and Susanne sees a huge snake slither under the decking looking for its lunch!

We have our own lunch at a restaurant overlooking the sea, before driving east along the coast towards Coamo, where some natural thermal springs await. Just as I think I can’t be more relaxed, I step into the scorching water with the cool air blowing against my face… aaahhh! It’s a perfect way to unwind after the best day on the trip so far.

Day 5 (13 April 2011)
Ponce, El Cocal, Rio Grande

Today is all about getting to Rio Grande in the northeast by 3pm, so we take the long and scenic route anticlockwise around the coastline. There are parts where we’re driving on the Routa Panoramica, but the best part is finding a ridiculously steep road that takes us down to a gorgeous beach called El Cocal. Unbelievably, we’re the only people on the entire beach, and the beautifully soft sand stretches as far as the eye can see in both directions, with a row of palm trees rustling in the gentle breeze.

The waves are reasonably strong, so it’s fun to play in the warm water and then dry under the scorching sun as tiny crabs peak their heads out of small holes all around me.

A few hours later we approach Rio Grande on the northern coast and I spot the sign for the St. Regis Bahia Resort. From tonight onwards, the accommodation is in this ultra luxurious resort, which impresses from the moment I drive through the main gates. It’s set in a huge complex that includes all the usual beach resort luxuries (golf course, beach, lakes) but also happens to be surrounded by a huge tropical nature reserve.

Upon arrival, we’re treated to a five-star welcome and I also spot a few colleagues who have arrived to Puerto Rico today. The room is amazing: The shower room is nearly as large as my bedroom in London and even the bathroom mirror has a built-in tv hidden into it! It’s a relaxing dinner at one of the hotel’s private bars, before a well needed rest in preparation for tomorrow’s early start.

Day 6 (14 April 2011)
Rio Grande, Culebra

I’m waiting on the east coast of Puerto Rico but an hour after the scheduled departure time, our ferry hasn’t moved. However, it’s worth the wait as the 90 minute journey finally takes us to Culebra, one of two major islands in these bright blue waters. I actually think that Vieques (the larger of the two islands) has more to see, but I’m like a ten-year-old at the thought of seeing the abandoned tank which rests on Playa Flamenco, one of the world’s great beaches in Culebra.

Susanne thinks I’m bonkers, but I’m truly excited when I see it at the far north end of the beautiful beach. It’s only a tank, but it looks so ridiculously out of place and makes for some great photos.

The palm trees hang over the back of the beach and the sand is quite simply perfect: It’s like walking in soft flour as we stroll down the shore. Whilst I’m known for my intolerance to beach holidays, I do actually really enjoy myself. However, I still can’t see how anyone could do this for more than two days, let alone a couple of weeks! We stay for a few hours before heading back to catch the 17.00 ferry: It’s the last ferry of the day so we absolutely can’t risk missing it. We end up being far too early, and since this is Puerto Rico after all, the ferry doesn’t end up leaving until around 18.00; I’ve come to call it “Puerto Rico Time”…

The plan was to get back to the mainland by 18.30 so we’d have enough time to get to the nearby lake for some night kayaking. The dinoflagellates in the water illuminate blue when disturbed, so the kayaks leave a beautiful trail of colour. Unfortunately, Puerto Rico Time means we miss the tour and lose the opportunity to see this bizarre natural display. It’s a shame, but I feel we’ve done well to pack as many things into the week as we have done. It also means we have a slightly earlier night before our hike tomorrow in the jungle.

Day 7 (15 April 2011)
Rio Grande, El Yunque

One of the hotel’s pleasures is private dining on our balcony, overlooking the nature reserve. Despite the ridiculous cost (I’m not kidding – three eggs costs $21 and a single sausage is $8! Even a coffee sets you back $9… And don’t forget the obligatory 20% service charge!), we enjoy breakfast each day in this gorgeous setting.

It sets us up for another highlight of the trip: The El Yunque rainforest. We drive deep into the jungle to find the beginning of the Trade Winds Trail. It’s supposed to be the most challenging hike and also takes one to the highest point in the jungle.

There’s a local guide who sits at the beginning of the trail and he tells us that it’s about 3-4 hours each way, but it is due to rain. Undaunted, we start hiking. It is pretty wet and some of the rocks are slippery, but it’s really not a hard trek at all. Funnily enough, apart from the odd bird, we see very little wildlife. It’s a good walk, but just not at all as ‘jungle-like’ as we expected. In fact, remove some of the more unusual trees and it could quite easily be a thick wood in England. It’s still enjoyable, but unfortunately Susanne isn’t feeling well so after a couple of hours we decide to head back. It’s a wise choice, as the rain starts getting quite heavy and parts of the trail become flooded. We cut up our legs on the bizarre plants that dangle across the path, so the mix of blood and mud makes it look like we’ve gone into the jungle and kicked a boar to death!

We follow the trail signs, which are about as accurate as Puerto Rico Time, and find our way back to the beginning of the trail. This is where things get a bit odd: The guide is no longer sitting at the entrance and a bashed up car suddenly races off down the road. We look around only to find a huge sign above the trail map which says ‘Trail closed for repairs’…

Fortunately, the rental car is still securely parked, but a dozen thoughts go through our minds. Was the guide a fake? Was the trail ever open? Was the dodgy car on the lookout? We start thinking about what an easy con it could have been: Get an official looking uniform, remove the ‘closed’ sign and rob the dumb tourists, leaving them for dead four hours deep into the jungle… With a certain GN’R song, it’d make a great movie! Lesson learned, we drive back to the hotel.

After a play in the sea, we go for dinner at the exquisite Fern restaurant, with a delicious six-course tasting menu, before meeting some colleagues in a private bar to finish the day. Despite being a company ‘event’ it’s really casual and there’s barely a mention of work, so it’s a great end to the day.

Days 8-9 (16-17 April 2011)
Rio Grande, New York City, London

Today is the one day which I’m not free to do my own thing. My company sets up a bunch of activities near the beach and it’s actually a really enjoyable way to end the holiday. I run around the resort (treasure hunt), dive all over the place (volleyball), and swing a Thor-like hammer around (croquet), whilst soaking up the sun with the best weather of the trip.

After dinner we have an early wake-up call which begins the 20 hour journey back home via New York City, since there isn’t a direct flight back today. Despite American Airlines reaching new lows of horrendous service (seriously, I really need to avoid using them ever again), I’ve had a great trip and I absolutely can’t wait for the next one.

The eight hour flight with my two work colleagues to Washington DC flies by as Panos and I gulp down mini bottles of wine like they are shots of tequila. The British Airways crew are quite keen to join in the fun. When we’re discussing the potential problems of driving in the snow, we say that an extra inch is going to make all the difference. “I couldn’t agree more!” Quips the air hostess as she scuttles past…

Of the six British Airways flights to DC in the next 48 hours, ours is the only one which isn’t cancelled. The snow storms on the east coast are raging, but we seem to have slipped in before it really starts to pelt it down with snow. The three of us find the hotel and from the bar window we watch the layers of snow build up, lowering the chances of leaving the hotel tomorrow. It turns out to be a hugely relaxing weekend. Despite the roads being completely blocked (and the weather channel being the only tv station working), we take advantage of pool, jacuzzi, gym, bar, movies and restaurant for the next two days, before our three hour drive to Harrisonburg, Virginia.

Day 7 (11 February 2010)
Virginia, New York

Following the crazy drive to Virginia, a few days of work, a few too many beers and winning over $100 on the Super Bowl, we hit the road again for the six hour drive to New York City. I pass through Maryland and Pennsylvania before seeing the skyline of my favourite city outside of Europe. It’s always a jaw dropping site and I’ve got to give full marks to my mate Alex, who drives the final few kilometres into central Manhattan.

Days 8-11 (12-15 February 2010)
New York, London

I discover a drink called “5 Hour Energy”. It’s supposed to give a fast-acting, longer-lasting energy boost. Oh boy does it work. Unfortunately, its claim that it gives you ‘No Crash’ is rather misleading. What I didn’t spot was the asterisk next to this claim. It goes on to say (in ridiculously small font) that ‘”No Crash” means no sugar crash. 5-Hour Energy contains no sugar’. Hmmm.

Anyway, I spend the rest of the weekend peaking and crashing, whilst shovelling surplus amounts of cheese, beer and steak into my highly confused stomach. It’s fun to drink with mates at Times Square, and incredible to meet up with my girlfriend at a top hotel overlooking SoHo and the Financial District.

It’s a slightly unorthodox trip of New York this time and I try to explore the lesser well known parts of this enormous city. Fortunately, Susanne used to live in New York, so she takes me to some great cafes, restaurants and bars that only a true New Yorker would know. Since it’s Valentine’s Day, I also take her around Central Park, which is absolutely gorgeous, especially following the heavy snowfall. It’s a city that never fails to impress and I know there’s still so much more to explore for my next visit.

18 years ago, at the age of ten, I had my first holiday memory: I was standing on the top of the Empire State Building and I couldn’t believe how small all the cars and people looked on the road far below. It affected me and I remember it like it was yesterday. Sure, I have glimpses of holidays at a younger age, but this moment really stuck in my mind. I’ve always promised to return, especially to see what parallels and differences there are between two of the greatest cities in the world.

The flight from Heathrow Terminal 5 to JFK Terminal 7 was a pleasure. British Airways clearly still know how to train their staff and (unlike American Airlines) the air hostesses constantly smile, they are only too happy to help and they don’t charge $6 if you want an alcoholic drink! Three films later and I’m staring out of the window as we descent over Long Island. The view is fantastic and really shows off the wonderful geography, especially with the sun low in the sky.

I find myself on the metro to Manhattan and it feels like I know this place. The train carriages look familiar and I’m even expecting to recognise locals on the train. It’s only because I’ve seen so many films set in New York, but it’s a strange feeling nonetheless. I snap out of it when a rat the size of a small dog, looks up at me and then darts across my path. Soon afterwards, I’m in a queue and the guy in front of me reaches the cashier and says, “How yoo doin’?” I couldn’t have planned this ‘welcome to New York’ any better!

It’s a relatively long metro journey to 103rd St in the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I’m in New York because I have a work conference from Tuesday to Friday in Virginia, and rather than spend two weekends in Washington DC, I thought I’d snap up the chance of a weekend in New York. Unfortunately, last minute planning means I picked a real shithole of a hotel.

Fortunately, the area doesn’t look too bad. Unfortunately, the shithole of a hotel double-booked my room. However, nearly an hour later and I’ve been relocated to a glorious hotel near 79th St and I’ve even been upgraded to a superior double for the hassle caused. I can’t really complain!!

I head out and find Times Square. I can hardly miss it: This ridiculous interchange on Broadway makes Leicester Square look about as entertaining as a single LED in a muddy field. It seems ridiculous to read all the ‘save by using energy efficient light bulbs‘ tips on the metro, when you’re practically blinded by the lights on the streets above. It’s an epileptic fit, waiting to happen.

I walk for what seems like miles and the temperature is dropping by the minute. It starts to snow just as I catch my first view of the Chrysler Building. A few steps later, the Empire State Building shows its peak over the other skyscrapers. It doesn’t seem as overwhelmingly huge as when I was 10 years old, but it seems to grow every step I take towards it.

It becomes overbearingly cold, so I jump back on the metro and show my head at Union Square, but it’s still freezing, so I warm up in a Vietnamese restaurant and then head back to the hotel. It’s nearly 04.00 UK time; it may be the City That Never Sleeps, but Carlo most certainly does.

Day 2 (7 December 2008)
New York

I wake early and head for the financial district. I immediately locate the World Trade Center site and am rather disappointed at the lack of memorials; it’s basically a huge building site. Nearby, the streets around Wall Street remind me of the City of London, with impressive company names and uniquely designed buildings. The New York Stock Exchange is particularly impressive and my only complaint is that I’m here on a Sunday, when most of the streets are empty.

Heading south, I find the port that has ferry rides to Liberty Island. It’s something I never did back in 1990, so I jump on and see the monumental copper statue get closer and closer. The weather has been poor, with bitingly cold winds (not helped by skyscrapers creating wind tunnels on every street) and a photographers worst enemy – a thick, cloudy, white sky. Fortunately, as I approach the Statue of Liberty, the clouds break a little and the statue appears to be reaching towards the sun. The wind is still painfully bitter, but a few ‘Project Jump’ photos warm me up. I’m happy taking photos for ages, but strangers keep seeing my camera and asking me to help them with their family portraits. After the fourth request, I decide to get out of there. I don’t enter the statue; the head has been closed for a while for safety reasons and I’m not too fussed about a close-up of her feet. Furthermore, despite all baggage going through an x-ray, they still require you to hand in bags before going inside the statute, which all seems rather backwards.

Ellis Island is next; it was the arrival point for millions of immigrants and has a relatively impressive museum detailing its history. The experience is made more realistic by the fact I’m sitting on a ferry to Ellis Island, surrounded by foreigners yapping away in Italian and Chinese! However, as I’m checking some of my Liberty photos, one Italian peers over my shoulder and says, “bellissima, questa foto.” He makes my day!

Back on Manhattan, the wind is worse than ever, so I jump back into the subway. The subway is ridiculously cheap: It explains the lack of electronic displays and the woeful attempt to cater for disabled, but it does seem to work quite efficiently. Furthermore, it’s a huge relief to know that the trains are always at the right temperature, something hugely missing from London’s underground. I exit at 14th Street and find “Cozy”; it’s famous for its soups and burgers, so I order exactly those.

I spend the next couple of hours with some friends I met when I visited Washington DC in January. It’s great to see them but when we go into Saks on Fifth Avenue, I’m tired of seeing $2,000 price tags on every item of clothing so I decide to visit the Rockefeller building instead. I’m delighted I do, since I was seriously considering a helicopter flight tomorrow just so I could get a decent picture of the Empire State Building. However, I think I capture exactly that on the 69th floor of the Rockefeller, standing for about an hour in the blistering cold winds.

I avoid catching pneumonia, but unfortunately I’ve missed the meeting point for dinner, so after a few night shots of the Flatiron building, it’s time to head back to the hotel.

Day 3 (8 December 2008)
New York

The day starts with an omelette sandwich and a dunkin donut. Well, I’m in the US after all! It’s an early walk across Brooklyn Bridge and today’s weather makes yesterday feel like a day on an African beach. As I cross the enormous bridge, it feels like half the wind from the Atlantic Ocean has blown past my face. It’s worth it though, as the views are exceptional and the bridge incredible.

I stop at a coffee shop, only in order to defrost, but I’m tempted to have a huge slice of chocolate cake and I can’t help adore the fantastic change in accents. The waiter sounds like he has stepped off a 1930s gangster movie set and I don’t dare short-change him!

On the Brooklyn’s promenade, I get an outstanding view of Manhattan. The sun has yet to emerge from the clouds, but that doesn’t stop me trying a Project Jump photo that I thought of yesterday. It’s quite an ambitious photo, that I struggle to get right, but the 73 attempts certainly help warm me up! Typically, the moment I get the photo I want, it’s like The Big Apple flicks a switch and the sun magically lights up the city. I know further photos will look better, but I’m also quite fond of my fingers and they are moments from completely snapping off. A park ranger then approaches me, as he has seen me jumping towards a camera on a tripod. I try to convince him that I’m not a professional, but my face is numb from cold and I can barely get the words out. He asks further questions: “Hoos gonna see these photos?” He backs off when I tell him I’ll show the photos my mother and father..!

I get the subway back to Manhattan and exit at Penn Station. After booking my ticket to Washington DC, I enter Macy’s and manage about half an hour of shopping, but give up and walk down the road to the tallest building in New York. I’m pleased to see that it’s just how I remember it. I was concerned that the Empire State Building was only “special” to me because I saw it when I was ten years old, but the views from the top are just as awesome to a 28-year-old. I don’t remember the heavy security to get in, but what really makes an impression is the attitude of the staff. I have found staff in New York (everywhere – not just the Empire State Building) to be incredibly welcoming and friendly. I guess it’s that American attitude towards work and pride in their work; it really rubs off and makes the experience (whether on a tour or ordering a coffee) so much better. The English should take note.

Next on my packed itinerary is a close-up of the Chrysler building and a wander around Grand Central Station. I can’t quite capture a photo as good as the wonderful “light through the window” famous photo of Grand Central, but I’m impressed nonetheless, especially as police are everywhere and they aren’t anal about people taking photos as they are back in the UK. I particularly like the group of art students sitting on the stairs, sketching scenes from around the main hall.

The sun is now pretty low in the sky and I promised myself I’d take photos from the Brooklyn promenade at sunset, so I catch a train back to Brooklyn. I end up going too far into Brooklyn and it’s a long walk to the river. Strangely, I get asked for directions by so many people, despite the fact I just can’t look more like a tourist (backpack, camera, tripod, map!) I can’t miss the spot I was this morning; there are photographers everywhere, waiting for the right moment during the sunset to capture Manhattan at its finest. It’s a truly gorgeous view and I forget about the cold, lying on the rocks and taking probably my best photos of the trip.

There are so many things I’ve failed to see, but there’s only so much I can pack into the day. I’m pleased that I stop at Times Square at night, as it looks so much better against the dark sky. I’d love to get photos of Little Italy and Chinatown, but when I’m invited to dinner at a French restaurant on the edge of SoHo, I decide to leave my camera at the hotel. I feel naked without my backpack; but it’s pleasant to wander around and feel like a local, with no one staring at me. Incredibly, a guy on the subway starts a conversation with me and we end up talking about London. Then, just before I reach the restaurant, I walk down a quiet street and another pedestrian says hello as he walks by. It’s insane: New Yorkers have a terrible reputation but I’m overwhelmed by their friendliness. Dinner is fantastic and we follow it with drinks (a Long Island Iced Tea!) in Little Italy.

Tomorrow I catch a train to Washington DC before heading west into Virginia. My New York adventure is over and I’ve barely scraped the surface of this great city; I’ve not even seen Central Park. So, it’s an excuse to come back and I’ve confirmed what I feared would not be the case: I most certainly could convert from Londoner to New Yorker.

I’m sitting on a transatlantic flight reading American Psycho. Rather worryingly (and coincidentally), the fat American sitting next to me keeps speaking and grunting to himself and giving people aggressive stares. Fortunately, I survive the flight and land in Virginia. It’s my tenth state but the first time I’ve been to the US since 1991 so I’m looking forward expand my photography into a new continent. However, I’m only in Virginia for about an hour as my real destination is another new state for me – the District of Colombia. I’m swiftly processed through immigration, but only once I confirm that I haven’t got any terrorist links and I was not involved with the Nazi concentration camps between 1939 and 1945.

I arrive in Washington DC and the first thing that strikes me is how incredibly empty it is. I exit Foggy Bottom Metro and apart from a few stalls and students, the place looks deserted. It’s also very spacious and modern-looking but (with the USA’s short history) that doesn’t surprise me. It’s like a Disney film set as everything looks too clean and organised; it just looks completely fake. I mean, there are even hundreds of tame squirrels jumping around your feet!

I walk a few blocks (I’ve waited years to say that…) to find my hotel and I’m pleased to see that I’ve got the largest room I could ever dream of having. Although I really can’t think why I might need my own kitchen!

It was an early flight from Heathrow so with the time difference it’s now about 1pm and I’ve got half a day to explore Washington. I immediately head south towards The Mall. I’m overwhelmed by the size of everything and the whole area is littered with monuments and memorials. The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is particularly moving, with 1,421 names across a huge black wall. Apparently the designer, Maya Lin, was 21 when she won a competition for the design. Strangely, she only got a B-grade!

The Korean War Veterans Memorial, with the details of the number of dead, injured or missing fighters, is also shocking. I see a postcard of this memorial when the ground is covered in snow and it looks absolutely amazing. I can only hope that I’m lucky and the snow falls before I leave in eight days.

Next is the Lincoln Memorial; I actually feel nervous as I walk up the famous steps towards the statue. I’ve seen it in so many films and knowing that it means so much to Americans is very emotional. Abraham doesn’t disappoint; the statue is enormous, powerful and looks so pristine that it could have been made yesterday. Despite the hundreds of tourists, it doesn’t feel crowded and I’ve never seen such respect for other photographers as I have in Washington so far. Everyone appears to wait for their turn and avoid walking in front of each other.

Seeing the Washington Monument in the distance is great, especially with the lovely reflection in the water which reminds me of the scenes in Forrest Gump after the Vietnam War. Unfortunately the sun is already low in the sky and I’m losing the possibility of good shots. In any case, there are no more tickets to climb the Monument today, so I’m advised by a very friendly member of staff to come back tomorrow morning. The people who work or volunteer are all so incredibly pleasant that it really makes you feel welcome as a tourist. Saying that, when I ask her whether morning or evening is better for the view from the top, her enthusiastic answer isn’t exactly what I’m looking for: “Any time is great! As long as there’s sun!”

I make my way to the White House and I’m surprised how close the perimeter is to the building. The fence isn’t high and there are very few policemen around. Mind you, every single one of them carries a gun. It makes me wonder whether you could get closer to Buckingham Palace or the White House. I think you’d probably get closer to Mr Bush, but I reckon you’d likely get a bullet for your efforts. I’m tempted to ask one of the guards whether people have tried to climb over, but I don’t want to push my luck. After all, it is my first day…

13th January 2008 – Washington DC

At 8.30 I head straight to the Washington Monument. I thought the city was deserted yesterday but today it’s like a ghost town. The homeless are still wrapped up in their blankets and the only other people are the two policemen outside the White House. I’m in the first group to climb to the 555th foot viewpoint of the monument. Disappointingly, there are windows at the top which are filthy on both sides. Furthermore, the sun is still pretty low in the sky, so although the view is ideal for watching over Washington, it’s pretty hopeless for photos.

I walk along The Mall past the museums. The whole area is wonderfully designed and I particularly like the mark-points that represent the solar system on a scale from 12th Street to the US Capitol.

I enter the National Air and Space Museum and among the items on display are the Apollo 11 Command Module and the 1903 Wright Flyer. They have been preserved fantastically and it’s unbelievable that this fragile-looking module went to the moon and back.

The rest of the museum is interesting but unspectacular, however, just like the Washington Monument, it’s free so I don’t mind whizzing through. Just before I leave, I spot a flight simulator so I decide to have a go at being an air force pilot (this does cost me a few dollars). For the first few minutes I’m flying around trying to find the enemy plane. The simulator rocks about as you’d expect it to and just as I’ve locked onto the enemy plane, it screams by me. I turn the control to make a 180 turn and suddenly the whole simulator turns upside down! It’s absolutely great fun and I spend the next couple of minutes rocking about trying to find my target. Unfortunately my time runs out and I’ve failed to get a Medal of Honour, but I take some consolation that I survived my first mission…

I exit the museum and the sun makes a short appearance, just long enough to get a few shots of the Capitol building, which unfortunately is closed on Sundays. The Library of Congress is also closed today so I walk on towards the US Supreme Court which has some towering pillars holding up the entrance. I get told off for sitting on the floor (simply taking a photo) and then make my way to the Old Downtown. Pennsylvania Avenue links the White House to the US Capitol and apparently it used to be full of seedy shops, until John F Kennedy said, ‘It’s a disgrace – fix it.’

It did the job as it’s a wide, clean road that sums up the power that stands at each of its ends. I take 6th Street up towards the MCI Center and suddenly it feels like I’ve walked out of a theme park and into a real city. Finally there’s rubbish on the floor, cars everywhere and people buzzing around every street corner. It turns out there’s a big game about to start and I decide it’s worth a visit. I’m not sure whether to go for a $50 or $65 seat, so I ask the vendor which is best for someone who has never watched basketball before. She looks at me strangely and with a slight hint of humour she replies, ‘This is ice hockey, sir.’

I walk around the block into Chinatown, which is very small and then noticing the time I settle for the Green Turtle sports bar. My enthusiastic waiter asks me about 100 questions about which type of burger and which brand of beer I’d like. Looking around, everyone wears their team colours and they almost look ridiculous in their American Football shirts without any padding. However, despite the real sense of sporting pride, there’s a much calmer atmosphere than you’d find in any sports bar in London.

My meal is huge (although not as big as the half kilo burger you can order!) and I do enjoy watching the ice hockey, even if the random fights are entirely daft. Perhaps I’ll see a game next week.

The US Navy memorial is picturesque (although difficult to capture in a photo) and the FBI building is massively disappointing. It’s very ugly and I can’t imagine Mulder & Scully getting excited about going there every day…

On the other hand, the Old Post Office is a delight. The 12 storey building was nearly torn down in 1934, but has since been redesigned with shops and restaurants inside. The observation deck gives a fantastic view and the lack of glass means I can finally take some shots across the capital. I meet Chuck, an American who lives south of the river who is only too happy to tell me about how Washington has changed and the difference before and after 9/11. He also confirms my thought that you really can’t visit the White House any more unless you have a congressional or embassy invite. Crap.

It’s time to return to my hotel and head north-west to Virginia again, to officially begin my business trip. I’ll return to the capital on Friday and with a bit of luck, I’ll find it covered with a thick layer of snow…

18-19th January 2008 – Washington DC

This morning was tough. Three hours sleep and far too much to drink last night in Georgetown means I struggle to return to tourist mode. A big Thursday night with work colleagues doesn’t help matters either.

Friday evening was a little intense, mixing all kinds of drinks and food (apple crumble with melted cheese?!?) and things got silly when we tried to convince our waitress that there was a drink called a Purple Helmet! Undefeated, she returned to our table with a new American cocktail, which coagulated nicely in my stomach…

This morning, I show Chris and Dan around the main monuments before finding our way to the Spy Museum. The interactive museum even allows you to have your own secret identity as you wander around “completing tasks” but it’s lost on me as I can barely keep my eyes open. Mr Bond, I am not.

Hoping some calories will perk me up, I try a McDonalds (supersize of course!) It’s absolutely enormous – ridiculous in fact – and now I feel knackered and bloated. Last night our waitress told us about the reality of their salaries and how much they depend on tips. It has helped me avoid being the typical “10% British guy”, but Dan takes it to hilarious levels. He’s also so knackered that he can’t be arsed calculating the percentage and in one place he unknowingly tips 60%. The challenge begins to be the first to tip 100%…

My colleagues get themselves on a flight back to the UK, so I try a power nap to get me out of this daze. It does the trick and by sunset I’m out doing some evening photography. Strangely, the Reflecting Pool is practically empty and the only reason I can think why (other than to clean it) is that perhaps they don’t want it to ice over in case morons like me decide to slide across it…

It has become extremely cold since last week (the snow came and went unfortunately) and the freezing conditions totally wake me up. In fact, I’m so awake that I can’t resist another session in Georgetown with my newly found DC friends. Glug glug.

20th January 2008 – Washington DC

Washington has impressed me with its efficient city: Cleanliness, friendly locals, straightforward road layouts, maps everywhere, signs to help every tourist. It appears to be the epitome of efficiency.

However, I decide to find the Marine Corps War Memorial by foot and to say that was a bad idea would be the biggest understatement of the year… It appears to be the only area of Washington that doesn’t cater for pedestrians and I end up performing some of America’s best ever jaywalking. I’m skipping across four-lane speedways before I attempt to cross the Theodore Roosevelt Bridge (which has no proper pavement) struggling against a biting wind so strong that I would have been more comfortable in a wind tunnel. I cannot begin to describe how cold it is.

However, I don’t actually feel so bad, so I guess the two mile walk is possible the best hangover cure I could ever imagine. It’s worth the struggle across the bridge as the clear blue skies allow for some great shots of this Iwo Jima monument. Having recently seen Flags of our Fathers, it’s a touching monument that I’m pleased I’ve seen. Nearby, is the shocking Arlington Cemetery, which is worth a visit just in itself. The row upon row of headstones is a shocking reminder of recent history and further strengthens my confusion why there are no monuments in the UK such as those found in Washington DC.

Further south, is the disappointing Pentagon building. Photography is totally banned but it wouldn’t be worth it anyway. I catch the (nice and warm!) metro back to the Old Downtown and with a soup and pizza, I finally feel like I’m back to normal body temperature.

However, the lack of sleep finally hits home and I’m suddenly absolutely exhausted. In the Gordon Bierch bar, a Red Bull does nothing for me. And then a Red Bull with vodka doesn’t do me any favours. So I soak in the atmosphere and watch the American Football. I’ve been utterly impressed with Washington and cannot wait to return, so it’s with a little sadness that my trip is already over and I have to catch the red-eye home.