by There is no escape from American culture in Britain. Hollywood, fast food, politics, Disney, and even Black Friday… we interact with state influences every day. Growing up, my vision was tinted by stars and stripes, inspired by sitcoms and songs that convinced me that America was the greatest place in the world. I was brainwashed, and nothing, not even Borat, could shake the Empire State of Mind. That was until I came to live, and I traveled to every state.
I moved to New York full of enthusiasm – but within six months, it had worn off in a serious way. Repeatedly ripped off by everyone from landlords and doctors to grocery cashiers, the saying “If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere” started to make a lot of sense. When my husband was attacked on the subway in a homophobic hate crime, we decided enough was enough. My desire to be a part of the City of Dreams was gone.
But New York is a big, complicated city – one small corner of a huge nation – and I was determined not to tar the whole place with one disappointing brush. So, when borders were closed in 2020, we decided to do what only 2 percent of Americans do: check all 50 states. It seemed like a great idea at the time, but now? I wish we were stuck with the other 98 percent.
For two years, we criss-crossed the country by road, driving obscenely long distances to places the average Brit would only hear about if they were watching. Miss Congeniality very, very close. The likes of Nebraska, Iowa and Arkansas didn’t come up with anything, leaving a rolling blur together except for the seas of factory-farmed cows.
And then, we reached the Bible Belt. In Texas, plaster trucks were placed with bumpers dedicated to two of the most worshiped men in the country: Donald Trump and Jesus. As a queer person, Asian, and as Christian as a seasonal Wham! record, it’s hardly likely that I had the flavor of the month with the MAGA series – especially since anti-Asian violence has worsened due to the pandemic – and cries of “another Chinese brought Covid to America !” came a familiar sound.
But it was the guns that turned an unpleasant situation into a scary one. America has more guns than people, and for those of us not familiar with open carry laws (most states allow you to carry a handgun without a license; in only five states does it completely illegal), their ubiquity can come as a nullity. surprise I was scared the first time I saw one, casually, in a fast food restaurant. I even took a shooting lesson to try to overcome my fear, but with the gun in my hands, all I could do was tremble.
And it wasn’t just guns and politics that made our transcontinental journey terrifying. The prices did, too.
The United States rarely scores higher than 10th in the country’s cost of living rankings – it is considered relatively cheap compared to the likes of Switzerland or Scandinavia. And yet, when you are a tourist, prices always seem to be sky-high.
Rent a car. With a still sparse regional rail network, and few cities with safe and reliable public transportation options, car rental companies know that travelers have few other options, and charge accordingly. In Alaska, the least visited state, caravan hire and camping cost us £2,000 for five days. Add £200 to fill the tank of your inevitable gas guzzler, and no amount of calcification will be enough to stop you thinking about your looming credit card bill.
But that is only the beginning. Really want to fret about your budget? Add 20 percent to everything. Literally everything. The inflation tip is out of the hands of the state, where businesses pay their employees outrageous wages and expect customers to make up the shortfall. We have been asked to excel performers at a concert after they have received tickets; went to grocery chains with tip options at self-service checkouts; he was expected to tip at least 30 percent at drive-thru coffee shop windows. Soon enough, we found ourselves withdrawing wads of cash daily just to pay for freebies.
And all this to see the great sights of America. I’ll admit, some of these are amazing: the Grand Canyon is amazing, as are the Great Smoky Mountains and the various National Parks; the Washington Monument is a real sight; such as Hoover Dam, Kennedy Space Center and Mount Rossmore. But after this? The country has fallen for its own marketing genius. There are many super features, but just because something is the biggest, fastest or highest doesn’t necessarily make it worth seeing. Even worse, since most Americans do not own a valid passport, there are plenty of places where the highlights are… replicas of European monuments.
In Las Vegas, tourists flock to replicas of Paris’s Eiffel Tower and Rome’s Trevi Fountain, and in Nashville, there’s a full-scale copy of Athens’ Parthenon. Try as I might, I still don’t understand why anyone would travel to take photos in front of a replica. It’s like drinking prosecco from a champagne bottle. Why lie to yourself?
And then there is the food. At every corner, there was a variety of beef or pork slathered in plastic cheese in the dish that had to be tried. Burgers, barbecue, cheesesteak sandwiches, tacos, hot dogs, pizza… if it blocks an artery, it’s a local delicacy.
Of course, it wasn’t all bad. For all its faults, America has nevertheless given us some tasty adventures – hot air ballooning in Arizona; skiing in Utah; surfing in my favorite state, California. The highlights of our trip were unbeatable. But the rest? I scoured all over America looking for some trace of the magic, the hype, the grandeur I’d seen in movies and on TV – and no matter how hard I looked, I always came up empty.
When we ticked off our last state and left America for good, I knew with a heavy heart that I would never be back. The rest of the world is too big and too beautiful, and I still have so much to explore. From now on, for me, the party is nowhere but the USA.
