Down from the mountain

I'm in Asheville, NC today. Primarily I'm here to see Matthew Ryan, one of my favourite singer/songwriters who's playing a rare gig here tonight. The place had been recommended to me though, so I came a few hours early to have a nosey around.


And it is lovely. Asheville is about a 2 hour drive from Charlotte, nestled in the middle of the Appalachian Mountains. It's a pretty small town with a distinctly bohemian and even urban feel - all tie-dye and busy coffee shops of bright young things. The old town center, unlike Charlotte, is still very much the bustling centre of the place and the cobbled streets around it are bursting with interesting (and mostly independent) shops. The one of most interest to me was a record shop, specialising in "mountain music" (bluegrass essentially) but which was rather incongruously blaring Lily Allen on the stereo, singing her songs about Tescos and orange squash. I was confused for a moment, but came to my senses enough to browse around the incense haze and buy a couple of suitably old-timey albums.

Another major feature was an old-style Woolworths (with it's full title, F.W. Woolworth & Sons) - featuring a fifties-style soda fountain and considerably more classy than its English counterpart. I had a hot apple cider (which isn't alcoholic over here - pretty much just hot Copella apple juice) in a bookstore cafe. Apples seem to be something of an obsession round these parts - the roads around Asheville are lined with orchards where you can pick you own, like a massive version of the Cox orchards around Sandringham. They were all pretty much shut up until autumn though - this must be a hard time of year for all those apple growers...

Sunday Night Ramble

Okay, I don't have anything in particular to go on about tonight but I'll have a bit of a ramble anyway. It's been a week of transatlantic tennis - I was in London at the beginning of the week, Boston (finally!) at the end, and now I'm back in Charlotte for the next few weeks.

London was great. Mostly work-oriented, but I managed to have a proper Sunday lunch with friends, go to the Snooty Fox, and catch up properly with workmates in a way I couldn't really at Christmas because everyone was all over the place. I was in the office for three days, and each night involved some boozy chew-the-fat action, which was great.

It was a real relief to get back to Boston. Having spent so little time there since Christmas, the whole "build a life in Boston" thing has pretty much gone out of the window. I've not been in contact with a few of the people I was hanging out with in my first couple of months, though I'm not too bothered as some of them (to be quite honest) weren't particularly interesting anyway. There is one person who I still see every time I'm in town though, one of the girls from the original speed-dating. I keep waiting for her to invite me to some sort of wider social gathering so that I can meet some of her friends, who would hopefully be as cool as her. Doesn't seem to be forthcoming though.

So Boston is kind of on hold for now. My fridge is utterly devoid of food and most of my clothes are here in Charlotte. Things are kind of in a holding pattern while I wait for us to set-up a proper office and a couple of people to join me, which will probably be in March sometime. It'll be cool to have someone to go and have a stress-free pint with without having to get on a plane to London! It was cool to be there for a couple of days and experience a bit of the Boston winter though. The Charles river was actually frozen over - quite a sight! It snowed pretty heavily on Friday night, and the next morning the walk to the shops was utterly treacherous. A walk that usually takes 10 minutes took about 20, since I had to tiptoe on the ice all the way to keep me from making a spectacle of myself. The streets were pretty deserted - clearly people tend to hibernate when conditions become so unconducive to sauntering down the street.

So, back to Charlotte, and someone I'm working with here has fixed up a lunch for me tomorrow with some of her friends who she seems to think will be my kind of people. We shall see, but it'd be cool to have some people to hang out with here.

Jacksonville Road Trip

The banks of the river run through my hometown
As a boy I ran the dirt roads, and I scraped my knees
Well they paved the roads eventually
With neon signs and car dealerships and diners
- "Jacksonville Skyline" by Whiskeytown

Yesterday, for the lack of anything better to do, I went on a bit of a road trip. It wasn't exactly The Odyssey, but it was reatively eventful for a Saturday drive. I left Charlotte at about 11, and my target was Jacksonville, NC, for no better reason than it was one of the few placenames I recognised on the map that was within striking distance. Jacksonville is where the singer Ryan Adams (a particular favourite of mine) was born, and a fair few of his songs mention it.

The suburbs of Charlotte were absolutely nothing special. Endless Pizza Huts, Walmarts, Home Depots and KFCs. I was hoping for a Starbucks to get my morning hot chocolate, but even that wasn't forthcoming. Even the half-decent chains are too good for North Carolina, it seems. Once out of Charlotte the countryside swiftly got more picturesque - rolling, wooded hills - and the small towns I passed through got prettier. I was clearly in the south - houses invariably had the stars and stripes flying from the porch, and churches beyond number with billboards imploring you to come in and be born again. Some were reasonably imaginative - "YOU CAN FOOL YOURSELF, BUT YOU CAN'T FOOL GOD!" - while others were more predictable, such as the matter-of-fact "JESUS SAVES".

Lacking more palatable options, I breakfasted/lunched on KFC, served by a vacant-eyed youth with a voice like the spotty guy in the Simpsons. Unfortunately, I must report that Kentucky Fried Chicken is no better in the South than anywhere else - just a bucket of grease. I've been told (admittedly by Southerners) that "real" southern fried chicken is something to be savoured, and have been directed to an establishment in Charlotte called The Chicken Coop. Haven't got round to it yet though... On the intersection outside the KFC a girl was standing in the central reservation, wearing possibly the worst Statue of Liberty costume ever devised, and holding a placard saying "Have fun! Do your tax return!". Poor thing.

On my way again, I must have let the sunny day and the grease go to my head, as out of the corner of my eye I saw a police car turning out of a layby over the road and make its way at haste towards me, lights a-blaze. Heart in mouth (I'd never been "chased" by the police before!), I pulled over and waited for what seemed like an age, watching the cop chatting away on his radio, presumably checking that my car wasn't reported as belonging to someone on the run. Satisfied, he ambled over and drawled "Ya'll in a bit of a hurry there, eh son?". Turned out I'd been doing 58 in a 35mph zone, so fair play to him. In my defense though, the roads are very big and the speed signs very small. He took my license back to his car to mull things over with the people on the end of his radio, presumably discussing whether to lynch this limey on the spot or send me to a church to repent my sins. Meanwhile, the thought crossed my mind that I had just missed out on getting myself on Police! Camera! Action!, and that it's not often that kind of opportunity presents itself. Unfortunately for our slightly dim copper, it turned out he couldn't do anything to me since my license is out of state, and he sent me on my merry way with a slightly more cautious right foot.

It took me a couple of hours to get to Jacksonville, which wasn't particularly exciting once I got there, to be fair. It's essentially a military base with a town stuck on the end. Enormous twin-rotored helicopters buzzed overhead, and a barber shop proudly proclaimed that is specialised in military haircuts. Hardly the most challenging hairstyle to specialise in - they should shoot for something a little more adventurous, like mullets or something. The rest of the town was pretty much gun shops, pawn shops and strip joints, none of whose wares I sampled.

The drive back to Charlotte was markedley less eventful, though I did stop off in the woods for an immensely enjoyable moonlit cigarette, with awesomely bright stars for company.

Checking in from south of the Mason-Dixon line...

Hi everyone. Sorry it's been a little while since I posted - it seemed a little silly to write a "Blog from America" when I was home for Christmas, and since then it's been all go. I'm in Charlotte, North Carolina at the moment, and I'll probably be here for a few weeks working on a hefty project we've got going with a company here. Y'all can therefore expect plenty of tales of fried chicken, grits and southern belles (hopefully!). And me saying "y'all" wherever I can...

Here's a little pic of the Charlotte skyline. The collection of skyscrapers is what passes for a city centre, but it's pretty much like the City in London - a hive of office workers during the weekdays and utterly dead at the weekends.


My flat is just outside uptown Charlotte, in a bit of a no man's land. I'm going to have to get a car at some point to do any kind of exploring. From my limited frame of reference, it also seems to be the seedy end of town. On my walk back from walk I pass the Uptown Cabaret, a windowless building with limos and leery men hovering around outside. Next door is one of those seedy two-storey motels you see in American movies, boasting "Romantic Themed Suites" and heart-shaped jacuzzis. Coincidence? I think not. A classy end of the world indeed.

The US: The Good and The Bad

I'm just waiting for my flight back to London for Christmas (delayed due to chronic fog at Heathrow apparently - hurrah), and I think the time has come for me to take stock and figure out just what's good and bad about this behemoth of a country. The last couple of months have been exciting but frustrating, purely because I've been too damn busy at work to really build a proper life out here. I got off to a flying start when I arrived, but things have stagnated somewhat over the last few weeks with all the travelling around I've been doing. I must have spent about 6 days in Boston out of the last 30 - not really the way to settle in. That said, here goes - the good, the bad and the ugly.

The Good

The Weather
Typical of an Englishman to hone in on the elements I know, but the weather really is great here. None of your drab London greyness here - in Boston it's been crisp, bright and sunny. In the Carolinas and California it's proper autumn right now, and in the Midwest it's bone-chillingly freezing. There don't seem to be any half-measures - it's either raining/snowing (HARD) or it's bright and chilly. Interesting, if you will. Over the course of the Boston winter I may be forced to revise this opinion - apparently it's been unseasonably mild so far.

The Food
Generally not the stuff you get in restaurants. While I've had the best steaks of my life here (yes, including in France) the portions in restaurants are almost always too big, and overly endowed with some sort of American cheese that's utterly tasteless and superfluous to proceedings. The supermarkets though (particularly in Cambridge) are wonderful. I have two near to me, a Co-op and the Whole Foods Market, and they're like being in your favourite farmer's market in London, all the time, but everything's half price! Gorgeous deli counters abound - the branch of Whole Foods in Union Square in New York is truly a thing to behold. The variety far surpasses anything Europe can offer as well. In the Co-op the other day I counted no less than fifteen different varieties of houmous - that's fifteen different ways to present chickpeas, garlic and oil! My particular favourite is "Garlic-lover's Houmous" - garlic-y dip with extra garlic. Mmmm.

Flights
They know how to make them convenient here - people really do use them like buses. None of this turning up at the airport 3 hours in advance malarkey - you just turn up, check in at the machine, stroll through security (somehow, there's rarely a queue) and board your plane. Simple. Usually.

The Bad

Taxi Drivers
By Jove, taxi drivers in the States are awful. New York is the worst, but anywhere you can guarantee that they will be pretty dodgy drivers, coupled with almost no knowledge of their environs. I've lost count of the times I've been asked how to get somewhere (as if I would know!) and had to get my laptop out and call on Google Maps for assistance. The grumpy London cabbie who would sell his mother before clarifying your destination seems a long-forgotten memory. The best example of American cabbie's cack-handedness was when I was in New York once. In New York destinations should be pretty simple to find - you just say "33rd Street and 5th" or some such, and anyone with a rudimentary grasp of numbers should be able to find their way. Not this guy - I had to guide him at every turn. Admittedly, he'd brought be all the way from Long Island, but still...

Is anyone out there?
It's a cliche I know, but America really doesn't care much about the rest of the world (except when her soldiers are there). It's partly this that gives the country an air of smug middle-class, nuclear-family satisfaction. An alternative ideal never enters into anyone's heads, because that's all that's ever portrayed in the media. The BBC website has been a lifeline to goings on elsewhere, and despite concerted efforts I couldn't find a single place in Boston (the most English city in America) that could show me the cricket. Thank God for www.willow.tv.

Just a little backward
I'm still getting my head around that there are so many live issues out here are signed, sealed and buried back home. Abortion, race, employment law, you name it and the US is probably less progressive than Europe in most people's thinking. The cherry on the cake was an article in the paper today, declaring in a shrill voice that "9 out of 10 20-year-olds have had premarital sex". No shit.

Team America
No matter how "liberal" or well-travelled the individual that you meet over here, there seems to be an underlying current of patriotism, that the US is generally in the right. Perhaps this is what Britons were like back in the imperialistic days, and we'll see a new kind of American guilt/humility in the 22nd century. Right now though it has the air of righteousness and defiance against the rest of the world which is a little disconcerting compared to someone from England, where displays of patriotism almost always come with jingoistic overtones.

West Coast Cricket

I'm sitting in San Francisco airport waiting to get the red-eye (as they perplexingly call an overnight flight here) back to Boston. And I'm watching cricket. I found this great website (www.willow.tv) which streams the British and Aussie cricket coverage, for a mere 70 bucks for the whole Ashes series! My devotion is being tested rather though, with another patented England batting collapse well under way. And I'm getting some odd looks from the other people in the bar who are intent on the football that's going on. I tried to explain how it all works to a chap who was sitting next to me, but he soon lost interest when San Francisco scored a touchdown.

I'm praying that I get upgraded for this flight (I stuck myself on the waiting list, and I'm flying enough with these guys that you'd think they'd pay me some special attention by now...). Five hours to Boston in an economy seat doesn't sound too appealing just now, with a full day of meetings tomorrow. Urgh....

Useless midwest snow

Sorry, it's been a little while since I posted anything up here. Partly that's been because I was in London last week, and it seemed silly to write a "blog from america" while I was there. Partly it's been because I've been dreadfully busy at work, and what free time I've had has been spent diddling on my new guiter (a cherryburst Gibson... mmm) and sleeping.

I was part of one of those nightmare travel stories earlier this week, flying from Raleigh (in North Carolina - no, I'd never heard of it either...) to Chicago. It's supposed to be a one-and-a-half hour flight, but in the end the trip took us about 11 hours because of some sort of srew-up with Chicago air traffic control. Firstly the flight was delayed for 2 hours in Raleigh, then we had to wait on the tarmac for half an hour while they negotiated whether we could leave or not. Then we tried to take off but bailed out halfway along the runway - apparently some sort of fuel pump wasn't responding properly, or someting equally worrying. So they checked that, and then we got off again.

(Phew. I'm flying back to Boston at the moment, and the turbulence is really quite bad. Makiiing it hrd to typee..)

We got about halfway to Chicago, and the captain came on over the barely-audible intercom to say that there wasn't room for us at Chicago and not enough fuel to fly around to wait for a slot, so back to Raleigh we went. Back at the gate, about half the passengers decided to get off, and about half stayed on in the hope we would get going again soon. The passengers that remained fell into 3 camps - the irate ones who took it out on the gnome-like steward, the ones who took it in their stride with a very British gallows-type humour (much rolling of eyeballs and "dear oh dear what a right royal palaver this is!" type stuff), and those who decided to sleep through it. Anyway, we took off again after an hour and made it to Chicago this time, a mere 6 hours later than planned. Not bad, considering. At least all the nonsense meant I finished by book - On Beauty by Zadie Smith. I'd highly recommend it - it's about a mixed-race, mixed nationality (American and English) family who live in the college town of Wellington, MA.

I spent the last day or so in Milwaukee, which is in Wisconsin a couple of hours north of Chicago. It's desolate up there - bollock-chillingly, eye-wateringly, astoundingly cold. It certinly stopped me smoking though - I could only take 3 or 4 drags before heading back inside, and had to keep passing the fag from hand to hand so I could thaw the other one. There was an awful lot of snow there which was something of a novelty, but I couldn't really see the point of it without mountains and something to slide down them on. Just cold wetness without the fun...

Anyway, I can't discern any reason why someone would possibly want to live in Wisconsin, so don't make a special trip there. Apparently it's famous for its cheese (the nickname on the car number plates is "The Dairy State") but I doubt it's particularly good. The fantastically names Mars Cheese Castle just over the border didn't look particularly appetizing, anyway:


Also for fireworks - apparently their laws about these (whatever they are!) are more lax than most , and the border with Illinois is lined with firework megastores, like the booze-cruise places in Calais. Very odd.