Those of you following the story from the beginning will know this was a three-city trip and that I’d kicked it off in Washington DC. You can recap on that here but it was time to move on. DC had really set the standard for this trip, it surprised me a lot and had really exceeded my expectations and I was hopeful that Nashville would follow a similar trajectory.
First things first though, I had to get there! I’d bitterly got myself to bed at a reasonable time, sacrificing a night out in DC, which ensured I was up early for a morning flight. Morning flights are typically a no-no for me where possible. I don’t mind as much when it comes to beginning the holiday early and getting to my destination in the morning but there’s always that risk of flying hungover and feeling terrible (I’m looking at you Lisbon / Newcastle).
Fortunately I’d avoided that dilemma here and I was up early to pack the last of my bits, get ready and perhaps have a last look around DC before making my way to the airport. I finished freshening up, squeezed the last of my things in to my bag and as I zipped it up, my zip came flying off! My bag was now uncloseable (is that even a word?)
Alright, alright so most of you will know I’m not really the panic type. I’m ridiculously laid back and knew I had some time before I had to leave but regardless, I still had a problem that needed resolving and quick! I suppose there’s a lesson to be learnt here. Something along the lines of “pack the night before Jason” or some other crazy advice but much like my hangover situation I’m going to lay the blame at another pesky morning flight – never book a morning flight!
I was short on time and didn’t even know where to begin looking. I hadn’t spent my time in DC shopping, I didn’t have a clue what was local to find a replacement. The hostel staff weren’t particularly helpful either so I just set off and hoped for the best. About 50 yards later I realised how ridiculous it was to even contemplate walking around with a half-open bag and in the end I just hedged my bets and flagged down a taxi.
To the airport! Why waste my time in DC? I didn’t have a clue where to start looking and I was 90% certain there’d be somewhere at the airport I could buy a replacement. In all honesty I don’t quite understand why because who hasn’t got their luggage sorted by the time they’re arriving at the airport?
“Idiots like you Jason!”
Touche but still, it’s a bit of a risky business model isn’t it? I’d estimate most passengers flying already have sufficient luggage opposed to uncloseable (I’m making it a word!) bags with them. Nevertheless my gamble had paid off and soon enough I was repacking my things in to an extortionately priced brand new suitcase. It ate in to a large chunk of my emergency money but that’s what it’s there for I suppose, problem solved.
Now I could relax, now I could focus on Nashville. I happily waved my bag goodbye at the bag-drop-off area and about 30 seconds later I realised what I’d done. Admittedly there wasn’t a huge selection of suitable bags at the airport but my “any bag will do” approach to shopping had somewhat backfired. I’d bought it, packed it and checked it in but.. what did it actually look like?
Was it blue? Or maybe black, or grey? What was the brand? Any distinguishable features? No?
Yeah, that still didn’t happen. It wasn’t really my problem was it? My only concern was that I was hungry and really wanted some breakfast and a cup of tea. The luggage situation was future Jason’s problem, let him worry about that in Nashville. So feeling care-free I went and found myself some breakfast and was soon boarding my flight.
The plane was probably the smallest I’ve flown on, I reckon only around 100 passengers with pairs of seats on either side of the plane. It was cosy I suppose, perhaps even a little too cosy. My neighbour was some young woman who’d come well prepared with lunch, laptop and notebooks to work on. With that in mind she’d re-position herself dependent on her activity. Time to snack? Stow the laptop away. Time to work? Table tray down, laptop open.
The flight was going swimmingly and then I felt something brush up against my arm. Now, I swear this happened but every time I try and look back at it logically I begin to doubt my memory. Am I remembering this right? I mean, it doesn’t sound like your typical airplane etiquette or dare I saw the type of boundaries you’d expect with a stranger but nevertheless this is still my recollection.
So, I felt something brush my arm and as I looked to my right there was her leg. I can understand you’re in a confined space and perhaps your arms brush or your legs brush or oops, I’m really sorry and I knocked you but arm to leg contact? It felt weird, to me at any rate. She however didn’t flinch which just puzzled me more. She was perfectly content sat as she was rather than having her feet planted firmly on the floor.
The above is obviously a stock photo found online but essentially similarly positioned sat down with her feet up on the airplane seat.
Is this normal? Is this how Americans flirt? I mean, of course I’m flattered but I’d be good with a traditional in-the-sky beverage if you want to get to know eachother better or even a hello would do. What’s going on? None of those thoughts exited my mouth of course, I just sat there in a confused state, maintaining stereotypical British politeness and refrained from apologising for having my arm in a completely natural position.
In her defence (“what!?) it was only for a minute or two before her feet were back on the floor of the plane and social etiquette had been restored. Perhaps she’d just been uncomfortable sat in one position for so long but most people tend to go and stretch their legs by having a wander on the plane. Anyway, the rest of the flight I’m pleased to say was unmemorable and we’d soon landed. Me and leg-lady went our separate ways and I was finally in Nashville!
I passed on through the airport, down to baggage claim and then I remembered what past-Jason had done. I went down to baggage claim and was worried it was going to be a nightmare. Fortunately there was only one flight’s worth of baggage on our allocated carousel, likewise it seemed most passengers hadn’t actually checked in a bag so there was only around a dozen bags at best whirling around but I still couldn’t tell you which mine was.
One by one they disappeared and inevitably one single bag was left on the carousel – I guess I’ll have that one then.
Don’t worry! It was actually mine, I did check the contents before I left the airport. Ordinarily I’d have probably just jumped in a taxi in to Nashville but it had already been an expensive morning. Far more than I’d budgeted for so I took the cheap option and went and found a bus I could catch.
Soon enough I’d arrived in downtown Nashville, I was in “music city” and it was instantly apparent. The second I’d stepped off the bus I could hear music, I think the music was coming out of some museum we’d stopped at but still, it was a great first impression of Nashville. The second sign that I was going to like Nashville only took a matter of minutes as some beer-bike-thing went pedalling past me. It looked like fun and Nashville already appeared to be a city that I was really going to like.
I made my way across the river and checked in to my hotel. Within a few minutes I’d had a text from my friend Sam who was waiting outside. Sam, her husband (Scott) and their daughter (Ariel) had driven up from Alabama for the day to come and meet me.
I was hoping to get to Nashville earlier but I think it was around 2ish by the time we met up. We’d planned to go to the Parthenon, a replica of the famous sight in Athens. It’s not something you’d typically expect to find in a city such as Nashville but we were keen to check it out. It turns out it’s actually closed on a Monday, which was somewhat unfortunate given it was a Monday. However we still decided to go, ultimately the main attraction was the exterior anyway and just seeing the building. We didn’t really have to explore it too much further.
We drove over to Nashville’s Centennial Park. It’s a beautiful setting for such a landmark and was pretty peaceful when we got there – probably because it was a Monday. It was quite cool to see up close though, walk around the park and get a few photos along the way.
It began raining which seemed a good time to call it a day and move on. We contemplated what to do next but there wasn’t too many options really. Given the weather we didn’t really want to be doing anything outdoors, it was late afternoon so didn’t really seem worthwhile checking out one of Nashville’s museums and we had a little’un with us too which meant we couldn’t really go pop in to one of Nashville’s many bars and watch some music either.
In the end we decided we’d grab a late lunch / early dinner which was a lovely chance to chat and catch up over pizza. It was undoubtedly a highlight of my time in Nashville and we even managed to get an obligatory photo from the day which was nice.
Sam and Scott kindly treated me to lunch, it was unexpected but much appreciated (thank you again!) and met with a promise I’d return the gesture next time we get an opportunity to meet up. Sadly time was ticking away and with a little’un to worry about they had to make the drive back to Alabama. With the rain pouring they dropped me back at my hotel and we said our goodbyes.
I relaxed for a bit in my room and struggled with the idea that at some point I’d have to move again. I’d spent three nights in DC sharing a hostel dorm with three other people. Now I had privacy and a large comfortable bed – it was incredibly tempting to just have stayed there for the evening.
However I knew my time in Nashville was short and this was my only proper chance at a night out in “Music City”. Fortunately it seemed like the rain had stopped so I made my way back over the bridge and in to downtown Nashville with a clear plan – bar-hopping!
Nashville is a dream night out. I’d heard a lot of good things prior to my visit and Nashville’s nightlife doesn’t disappoint. Broadway in particular is just an endless number of bars, most if not all of which offering some sort of live music to watch. Don’t like a bar? Move on to the one next door, or two doors down, or you get the point..
If it sounded good I was going in for at least a beer before moving on. The first place I walked in to was called the George Jones, it seems to double up as a museum during the day but upstairs was a nice bar. At the back of the bar was a female country singer which set a nice mood in the room. I think there was a rooftop bar too but given the drizzle I didn’t bother checking it out. It was a nice place, one I could have quite happily stayed at for much longer but after two beers I made a move. On to the next!
As suggested above, I didn’t have to walk too far before finding the next couple of bars I liked the look and sound of. One had a really nice atmosphere with some artist singing a mixture of his own songs whilst taking requests from the room. I can’t remember the name of it but I had a couple of beers there before moving on and picking up a CD on the way out.
I wasn’t typically someone that would listen to country music before this trip (Nashville has changed me!) but it’s nice supporting local artists where you can so I figured I’d pick up a little souvenir of my night. It was actually a bit of a disappointment hearing it when I got home, I enjoyed his live performance a lot more but perhaps that’s just because I had a few beers down me by that point.
A couple of bars, little more music and few more beers later I decided to call it a night. I could have stayed out a bit later but I’d had fun, was the right level of tipsy and was also conscious that I had to cross over a bridge on the way back to my hotel.
Fun fact but I have an irrational fear of bridges. I don’t know if fear is the right word but I certainly don’t like them. Don’t ask me why because I’ve got no idea. I don’t know what I think’s going to happen. I suddenly forget how to walk, lose my balance, stumble and go head first over the bridge? 100% plausible right?
I can’t explain it, certainly not logically and worse yet – it’s not even an every-time type fear which would at least make it somewhat rational. Some bridges I’m perfectly fine on – Brooklyn Bridge for instance I didn’t have a concern in the world about falling on to the oncoming traffic below.
Back to Nashville: irrational fear or not, to put myself most at ease I walked on the opposite side of the path as far from the bridge edge as possible and right by the road. Seemingly happier to be right next to the vehicles whizzing past me. Sure, I might get hit by a truck but at least I won’t fall in the river!
Well you’ll be pleased to hear my bridge walk was a success. I have a 100% success rate in fact, who’d have thought? I made it safely back to my hotel, ordered some room service as reward for surviving my “near-death” experience and then crashed in to the comfortable bed I’d been so looking forward to sleeping in. It was the perfect end to a memorable first day in Nashville.
Stay tuned for day two!