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In the age of post-tourism, we all want to feel like locals. But in Washington, I decide to own my visitor's badge. Because, as much as you think it's all familiar, you can't help but gawk at the sights – especially when the President is one of them.

I arrive on a humid Tuesday, and step out the door of the Dupont Circle Hotel, in a historic section of northwest Washington. Despite the 98 F weather, young women are dressed in tailored skirts and light blouses, gents right out of grad school wear shirts and ties, jackets slung over their shoulders. The worker bees talk into cellphones and carry briefcases, and suddenly I feel like a lucky slacker in my flip-flops and linen shorts. Welcome to D.C., where it's hip to be square.

Despite a continuing economic struggle across the United States, Washington's June unemployment numbers were the lowest – at 5.7 per cent – of the 20 largest U.S. cities.

What's more, housing prices are strong, personal income is well above the national average, and there are building cranes all over downtown – that's where I want to go.

It would be easy to take the Metro, but I head down 19th Street on foot instead.

Designed by Pierre L'Enfant in 1791, Washington is laid out in a grid, with numbered streets running one way and lettered streets going the other. Gracious diagonal avenues, named after states, cut across the grid and connect in circles around town. Combine this with D.C.'s classical architecture and lack of skyscrapers, and the effect is stately and grand, a bit like Paris (no accident). It's great for walking.

Before long, the monuments and government buildings come into view, and it's surprisingly exciting. There's the Treasury Building! The Lincoln Memorial! The Washington Monument! Standing outside the White House, I am suddenly wildly curious about what it's like inside, but I haven't booked a tour, so I push on. (Damn my anti-tourist bent!)

What I have booked is lunch at Acadiana, a Louisiana-style fish house a short cab ride from the National Mall, in hopes of bumping into Michelle Obama. After consulting my waiter, I order what he assures me is the first lady's favourite. The seafood chopped salad is loaded with spiced shrimp, crawfish tail meat, marinated crab and veggies. It's all superfresh and delicious, but the fried green tomatoes with shrimp remoulade are even better.

That afternoon, I head back to Dupont Circle to explore Embassy Row on Massachusetts Avenue and the historic houses on N Street, walking slowly with the hope of getting a glimpse inside. Then it's off to sample D.C.'s excellent Ethiopian cuisine: With an Ethiopian community that is close to 300,000 strong, the choices are many, but I've heard good things about Ethiopic on up-and-coming H Street, so that's where I hungrily devour injera bread and lamb tibs until I can't keep my eyes open.

In the morning, I'm at the Willard Hotel for breakfast, taking in the history with my fluffy pancakes. I learn that an array of presidents-elect have slept here, as did Martin Luther King Jr. before delivering his famous speech. The location is convenient for me too – the 19 Smithsonian museums and galleries are just a short walk away.

Digging into that wall of culture sounds like a monumental task, if you don't know that every one is free. Forget the guilt of seeing every worthy item, go ahead and cherry-pick. Drift in and out, see only the exhibits that interest you, stay just 15 minutes if that's what works. Better yet, even in August, I didn't encounter a single lineup. I saw portraits of George Washington and Michael Jackson, a bronze sculpture of girls on their way to the gas chamber, Julia Child's kitchen, the flag that inspired the Star Spangled Banner, Geronimo's rifle and much more – all in a single afternoon.