There is no escaping American culture in Britain. Hollywood, fast food, politics, Disney and even Black Friday… we deal with American influences every day. Growing up, my vision was colored by stars and stripes, fueled by sitcoms and songs that convinced me that America was the greatest place in the universe. I was brainwashed and nothing, not even Borat, could shake this Empire State of Mind. That was until I became a resident and traveled to every state.
I moved to New York full of enthusiasm, but within six months things seriously started to wane. The saying “If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere,” repeatedly ripped off by everyone from landlords and doctors to supermarket cashiers, began to take on a lot of meaning. When my husband was attacked on the subway in a homophobic hate crime, we decided enough was enough. My desire to be part of the City of Dreams was gone.
But New York is a big, complicated city – just a small corner of a huge country – and I was determined not to paint the whole city with one disappointing brush. So when the borders closed in 2020, we decided to do what only 2 percent of Americans have done: check off all fifty states. It seemed like a great idea at the time, but now? I wish we had stayed with the other 98 percent.
For two years we crisscrossed the country by road, traveling obscenely long distances to places the average Brit would only have heard of if they had looked. Ms. Congeniality very, very closely. Countries like Nebraska, Iowa and Arkansas passed almost without comment, rolling landscapes blending into each other, except for seas of languishing factory cows.
And then we reached the Bible Belt. In Texas, trucks were plastered with bumper stickers honoring two of the country’s most adored men: Donald Trump and Jesus. As queer, Asian and as Christian as a seasonal Wham! I was unlikely to be the flavor of the month with the MAGA set – especially as anti-Asian violence had increased due to the pandemic – and the cries of “another Chinese person who brought Covid to America!” has become a familiar sound.
But it was the weapons that turned an unpleasant situation into a terrifying one. America has more guns than people, and for those of us unaccustomed to open-carry laws (in most states you can open-carry a gun without a permit; in only five states it’s completely illegal), their ubiquity can be a nerve-wracking experience. surprise. I was terrified the first time I saw one, casually, in a fast food restaurant. I even took a shooting class to try to overcome my fears, but with the gun in my hands all I could do was shake.
And it wasn’t just guns and politics that made our transcontinental journey a miserable one. So did the prices.
The United States rarely ranks higher than 10th in cost of living rankings – and is considered relatively cheap compared to countries like Switzerland or Scandinavia. And yet as a tourist the prices always seem sky high.
Take car rental. With a still sparse regional rail network and few cities with safe and reliable public transportation options, car rental companies know travelers have few alternatives and charge accordingly. In Alaska, the least visited state, caravan rental and camping cost us £2,000 for five days. Add in $200 to fill the tank of your inevitable gas guzzler, and no amount of moose sightings is enough to keep you from thinking about your looming credit card bill.
But that’s just the beginning. Do you really want to worry about your budget? Add 20 percent to everything. Literally everything. Tipflation is spiraling out of control in the United States, where companies pay their workers terrible wages and expect customers to make up the shortfall. We were asked to tip performers at a concert after purchasing tickets; went to supermarket chains with tipping options at self-service checkouts; They were expected to tip at least 30 percent at drive-thru windows of coffee shops. We soon discovered that we were withdrawing large amounts of cash every day just to pay for tips.
And all this to see the great sights of America. I have to admit that some of these are beautiful: the Grand Canyon is beautiful, as are the Great Smoky Mountains and the various national parks; the Washington Monument is truly a sight to behold; that includes the Hoover Dam, the Kennedy Space Center and Mount Rushmore. But beyond that? The country has fallen for its own marketing genius. Superlatives abound, but just because something is the biggest, fastest or tallest doesn’t necessarily mean it’s worth checking out. Worse still, since most Americans don’t have a valid passport, there are plenty of places where the main attractions are: replicas of European monuments.
In Las Vegas, tourists crowd around imitations of Paris’s Eiffel Tower and Rome’s Trevi Fountain, and in Nashville there’s a full-size copy of Athens’ Parthenon. Try as I might, I still don’t understand why anyone would travel to take photos in front of replicas. It’s like drinking prosecco from a champagne bottle. Why lie to yourself?
And then there’s the food. On every corner, the must-try dish was some variation of beef or pork slathered in plastic cheese. 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 still presented us with some wonderful adventures: hot air ballooning in Arizona; skiing in Utah; surfing in my favorite state, California. The highlights of our trip were unforgettable. But the rest? I scoured every corner of America looking for any trace of the magic, the hype, the greatness I had seen in movies and on TV – and no matter how hard I looked, I always came up empty.
As we checked off our last state and left America for good, I knew with a heavy heart that I would never return. The rest of the world is too big and too beautiful, and there is still so much for me to discover. From now on it’s party time for me everywhere except the US.