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I almost didn’t make it to Austin. Having almost passed out on the train to the airport, I arrived just in time to empty my guts into the nearest toilet, before shuffling through security and onto the plane in an ugly state. Thankfully, the woman assigned to the seat next to me quickly fled in self-preservation, and I was left alone to occupy the row in a foetal position. But this only increased my happiness at seeing Josh and Anna’s faces again when my cab pulled up by our Airbnb home that night. Who’d have thought we’d be reuniting in the capital of Texas?

Enjoying the Texas House of Representatives

Somewhat awkward with the Ten Commandments outside the capitol

All the stars look a bit, ur, Soviet?

By the river

Hey hey, LBJ

Austin’s famous bats

Mock if you will, but my favourite part of Austin was the Texas Legislature, which is admirably open and welcoming to the public. We strolled into the gallery above the House of Representatives first, who were debating an amendment to allow texting in a car which had come to a complete stop. “The data show that this rule costs lives” one Representative began, before being interrupted by another demanding a source. An assistant duly scurried in with a piece of paper, although not before the first guy clarified meekly that he was still in support of the rule change, despite the higher death rate. It passed by a landslide.

Other highlights included the state’s history museum and the LBJ Presidential Library, at either ends of the University of Texas campus. In between, a pro-Palestine demonstration was loudly and successfully gathering attention away from an Israeli block party, which says something about the liberal Austin vibe. We drove out of the city one morning so we could go swim in the Pedernales River, waited under the Congress Avenue bridge for the famous flight of the city’s bats at dusk, and spun about a thousand bat puns out of the days which followed.

Austin was a great city, but New Orleans was the more special and memorable of the two. We drove – by which I mean, Anna drove us – through Texas and Louisiana in a day, stopping at a farewell-to-Texas steakhouse (where our servers danced and tried out their British accents) and at Louisiana’s welcome centre, where they hand out free coffee and tell you to beware of alligators. New Orleans, though, is clearly a place unto itself. It’s almost impossible to capture properly in photographs, because the most wonderful thing is all of the free music which pours out of every bar and street corner. We wandered from bar to bar each night, drinking Purple Haze and soaking up the atmosphere of blues and jazz.

Delicious breakfasts at Slim Goodies

Just one of the many, many live acts we saw in bars

Swamp tour

Baby boar

Literally an alligator

This is a lot of Confederate flags

As you can see, we also went on a swamp tour – not to be missed – and ate all of the right foods. Crawfish etouffee, fried alligator, beignets, snowballs: distinctive cuisine is the other reason to visit NOLA, and it did not disappoint.  I should clarify, too, that the creepy display of Confederate flags above was an aberration, and outside the city. The worst thing we saw in New Orleans itself was the trashier end of Bourbon Street, where police led a man out of a strip club while very bored looking strippers looked on. That said, we didn’t wander too far from the historic French Quarter, except to catch the streetcar to and from our house in the Irish part of town. There were plenty of references to Hurricane Katrina, but how much the city is still recovering was left mostly to our imaginations.

More than most American cities, though, New Orleans just feels old and enduring: layers of French and Spanish history pile up in refreshingly narrow, built-before-the-car-came streets. Whenever you make it to visit – and you will want to visit sometime – it’ll be here, ready with music and life.

So: my first trip to the South is complete, and two more states can be scratched off the map. (That’s not a metaphor, it’s an actual scratch map.) More American exploration on the way!

Here’s a fact: to take part in a humble game of home poker within the state of Illinois is a criminal offence. No exemption exists for domestic, non-commercial gambling between “legitimate guests or friends”, as the UK’s Gambling Commission so charmingly puts it. Tangential research corner: I was amused and/or nerdy enough to find out if Britain’s Gambling Act 2005 goes into any more detail about the required level of friendship legitimacy (would a LinkedIn connection count?) and although no answers were forthcoming, it did throw up this glorious piece of dry legal wit. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Section 42:

Cheating

(1) A person commits an offence if he—
(a) cheats at gambling, or
(b) does anything for the purpose of enabling or assisting another person to cheat at gambling.

(2) For the purposes of subsection (1) it is immaterial whether a person who cheats—
(a) improves his chances of winning anything, or
(b) wins anything.

Simulated gambling during rehearsals for a play

Apropos nothing, on Friday night I very much enjoyed taking part in an intensive one-night-only method acting course. Although my character didn’t win the simulated “poker game”, he did enjoy a brief advantage in having so little idea whether his cards were any good that no one else could figure it out either. I’m also warming to whisky, very slightly. As in, I now finish my glass.

The next morning, I set off with Randi, Jason, Catherine and AJ for our weekend in New Glarus, Wisconsin. Dubbed ‘Little Switzerland’ (although Switzerland seems plenty little in its own right) the town is famous for its brewery which opens for free, pleasantly low-key and self-guided tours. There’s not a great deal to actually see (large metallic containers and pipes which presumably have beer inside) but you’re welcome to drink a pint or more of the stuff while doing it, or else explore the snowy but sunny garden outside.

All pretty sweet

On the drive up, we stopped at the “world’s largest” Culver’s.

Not pictured: Little Vegan Switzerland

Aside from beer, Wisconsin is also known for cheese – clearly a state with the right priorities. At dinner we ordered a cheese plate, fried cheese curds and cheese fondue for starters, at which point our server actually refused to take any more of our order “until you’ve finished that”. (Her scepticism proved well-founded, and since we didn’t order anything else, it was really her loss.) And that, plus more board games, out-of-city stargazing and one alarmingly anti-abortion roadside poster on the way back (“baby Jesus was once an unborn infant!”) pretty much captures our gentle weekend adventure.

In case you were wondering, yes, home poker is illegal in Wisconsin too. You’d have to hop another state over to Minnesota for that, if you were interested in that sort of thing.

Oh, New York. Even the bad things which people throw at you (“there’s trash everywhere!”) I take as evidence of a spirited metropolis. It is, to state the obvious, the closest I’ll get to London without just going to London: the city which seems to stretch out endlessly in all directions, criss-crossed by a subway system which gets you anywhere, plus the psychology of hyper-urban crowds.

A snowy, icy and cold New York

It was also, at least in the last few days, super cold. Colder than Chicago – or at least that’s what it felt like, perhaps only because we were outside so much. Despite the weather, Randi and I managed to check off a bunch of touristy things I had missed last time around, inbetween hanging out with her friends in the city. (Tourism truism #137: people will grasp at anything which elevates them from being seen as ‘pure’ tourists.) Huge thanks in particular to Melissa and Amanda, who generously allowed us to stay with them and avoid taking out the huge bank loans which are presumably required for any form of New York accommodation.

One of the 9/11 memorial pools

One of the best things we did, a little unexpectedly, turned out be the 9/11 Memorial & Museum. Given how close we still are to the events of that day – both emotionally and politically – it seemed like it would be a difficult thing to get right. But what the city has built is a fitting tribute indeed. The memorial pools where the base of the towers once stood are dignified and thoughtful, while the museum lets the extraordinary and terrible facts speak for themselves. Indeed, the main exhibition is built around a minute-by-minute timeline of events, and I was moved by many of the small details: audio recordings of the crew members from the hijacked planes, video footage of the hijackers passing through security, an animation showing how US airspace was completely cleared of thousands of planes in a matter of hours. If you’re in New York, it’s certainly worth your time.

I’m more equivocal about the Tenement Museum, which came highly recommended but suffered from anticlimactic tour guiding. This is both a personal and a cultural thing, sure, but I really don’t like being solicited for my views, thoughts or ‘resonances’ on the subject matter – and I know this makes me sound all reactionary (“teaching is all about facilitating peer learning!”) but there’s a reason why most of the world’s great literature is not written in the Choose Your Own Adventure format. There was more confident storytelling in Big Onion’s Greenwich Village walking tour, which was excellent, and included the Stonewall Inn where the famous gay rights riots of 1969 began. (For some reason, I had never connected the British charity with this place in my mind before.)

The award for absurd security theatre goes to Liberty Island, who put you through airport-style screening to get onto the ferry and then airport-style screening again on the island itself. That’s twice as many metal detectors as it takes to board a plane. Still, the Statue of Liberty remains a beautiful thing. We also trooped to the Daily Show studios just to gaze forlornly at Jon Stewart’s soon-to-be-departing face from the posters, and walked the High Line, which is a great idea.

Braving the cold, “otherwise no one will believe we saw it”

Pilgrimage to the Daily Show

Coupley photo from the High Line. Not pictured: the High Line

Drinking out of a boot

Pizza at Roberta’s in Brooklyn, as recommended by Carolyn. Thank you!

At Times Square. Can’t wait to be back in February 2024.

So the last bits of 2014 were great. Which is a bit of an administrative hassle, if you’re the type of person who feels compelled to write a painfully exhaustive review of the year, only to go on and do fun things in that selfsame year afterwards. But still, Pequod’s with Todd and Carolyn was a joy. As was JJ’s games night, where I got to play Cards Against Humanity for the first time, although I do maintain the potentially controversial opinion that it’s not risqué enough.

We also played Catchphrase, during which I had to describe the word ‘penny’, and after saying something like “like a pound, but the smaller British currency unit” (although probably not as clearly as this) a panicked team-mate shouted “kilopound!”. Which was (a) amazing, and (b) a bit sad, because we’re nowhere near as metric as Americans think we are.

New Year preparations. Killer punch not pictured.

Anyway, it’s 2015! And 2015 kicked off at Saujanya’s generously-hosted party, chiefly memorable for its provocatively hot punch (have you ever had your nostrils assaulted by steaming alcohol before?) and a large quantity of champagne as midnight hit Central Time. Later, I courted good luck for the year (at least so Robert alleges) by ordering Hoppin’ John – a Southern New Year tradition – at Michele’s brunch.

“Day trip, anyone?”

Yesterday, to avoid cabin fever during the off-again-on-again holiday break, Randi and I took a day trip to Kenosha, Wisconsin. The chunks of ice on the lake were beautiful, the Wisconsin cheese curds delicious and the mile-long streetcar system – while probably unnecessary from a strictly utilitarian point of view – was very cute all the same. But I don’t want to talk about any of that; I want to talk about the Metra train which we used to get there. Kenosha is the terminus station on the Pacific North line and the cost of a ticket for the two hour ride is a mere $7 (or about £4.50 in real money).

That’s the turn-up-and-go cost of a return ticket – no fiddling about with advance booking and seat reservations. Oh, and you’re allowed to return the next day if you so prefer. The penalty for buying your ticket on the train itself instead of the station? An extra $3. And at no point did we have to endure any automated announcements about taking all our personal belongings with us, either. This is all such absurdly good value from a British perspective, it makes me feel a little ashamed. Railways are in our cultural DNA: how come we get so beaten by a country which couldn’t care less about them?

Kenosha

One other thing I wanted to write about was This American Life, and in particular their programme (part one; two) from 2013 on Harper High School in Chicago’s south side, which I listened to over the break on Katie’s recommendation. Because as much as I enjoy going on my train-based Midwestern escapades, it’s sobering to reflect that I’m effectively cut off from whole swathes of my own city which are just too scary and intimidating to visit. The social problems are, of course, hardly unique to America – but the easy availability of guns adds a shocking level of cheap, fatal violence. In the year prior to this podcast, 29 current or former students had been shot, and the testimony of teenagers who walk home down the middle of the street – considering this marginally safer than the sidewalk – is hard to forget. A highly recommended listen.

Ludington State Park

For the long Thanksgiving weekend, Randi and I took a roadtrip around Michigan – conveniently upping my total of states visited by one. (A double bump, technically, if you counted the brief drive through Indiana… but that would be cheating.) So here is a story of five very different Michigan towns.

1. Paw Paw
Population: 3534
Most notable feature: Adorable name
Ideal movie setting for: Plucky small town beating the odds

Snowy Paw Paw

2. Saginaw
Population: 51,508
Most notable feature: Town square podium
Ideal movie setting for: Local political thriller

Courting the centre-ground

3. Frankenmuth
Population: 4944
Most notable feature: World’s largest Christmas store
Ideal movie setting for: Winter family film featuring Santa, elves and the baby Jesus

It’s not really possible to capture how much Christmas there was. Plus Jesus. And the US military.

4. Ludington
Population: 8076
Most notable feature: Beautiful sand dunes by the lake in the State Park
Ideal movie setting for: Voyage to the Desert Planet

Charging across the dunes

5. Muskegon
Population: 38,401 (allegedly)
Most notable feature: Spooky emptiness
Ideal movie setting for: Zombie apocalypse

These are not real shops. They are fake store fronts.

In all seriousness, it was a really lovely weekend, fuelled by a great in-car Spotify playlist, a sure touch at stumbling across wonderful B&Bs without any prior arrangement, and friendly people all round. (Also, I lost track of the number of times we met Father Christmas.) The adverts on the side of the buses in Chicago don’t lie: Michigan is a beautiful state, at least in parts, and it was well worth a visit.