After my year abroad I considered myself well-traveled, a global citizen – rather pretentiously. I had gone to relatively untraveled countries, such as Poland and Slovenia, picked up the British lingo, and actually enjoyed ciders. That was it, I was obviously, unarguably well-traveled. When I came home, though, back to sunny Worcester, Massachusetts, I realized I hadn’t seen much of my own home country. That summer I decided I would commit myself to traveling the United States before I buckled and went back to England. I booked two trips, one to Nashville, Tennessee, and one to Austin, Texas. Let me tell you, some of the shenanigans that naturally occurred were decidedly unsexy but still completely NSFW. Either way, I’ve determined trouble follows me, and I’ve learned to ride it out.
Nashville has my heart. It is truly the heartbeat of the American music scene. I have never experienced such an insane, energetic, downright catastrophic music scene than I did on Broadway. Bars completely lined the streets, towering over all of us, saturating the street in music and neon lights. It was a cacophony to the fullest extent. The windows of first floor bars opened up into the street and you could window shop for a genre you liked. The artists were jumping in and out of the windows, playing on the streets with the crowds before tumbling back through the window onto the stage. Two men almost got into a fight over my friend who was visiting from England, truly a Helen of Troy situation, but we all follow each other on Insta now. Also, I ate so much hot chicken I thought I was going to start bleeding spice. I would move there in a heartbeat. The energy, the music, the Tinder matches. My little northern heart was scandalized in the best possible way.
Austin, Texas was honestly a mess from the get go. An HC friend and I stumbled off a plane, after worrying it wasn’t even going to take off due to snow, and immediately ran to a club. While I had been to gay clubs with my gay friends in England, the Highland was like something I had never experienced in my life. My friend abandoned me for a hookup within an hour of getting there, and my other friend, who we had made the trip to see, was preoccupied with his own hook up. I somehow made friends with the girls dancing next to me and we went to the basement of the club, which is not as sketchy as it sounds, but also had a dog-cage for puppy-play and a bondage wall, so maybe it is? Trying not to yuck anyone’s yum I just kept myself quiet, and did my very best to enjoy the raunchy atmosphere. However, after witnessing plenty of heinous happenings, I didn’t know what else to do with myself in that moment so I just left. The girls I made friends with left with me, and we got brunch the next day before their flight home, and we now all follow each other on Insta as well. Also, after a street fight at one in the morning in which a man pulled out a weapon I ran into a kid from my 12 person Russian class freshman year in the crosswalk. We also now follow each other on Insta. You really can’t escape the Cross.
Moral of the story – travel because you’ll gain Insta followers, roll with the punches, and be prepared for Austin, Texas to ruin your life.