I have a confession to make. Despite being a caffeine-fiend for many years and working on and off as a barista (best way to gain unfettered access to a coffee machine), I still have zero clue as to how it all goes down in the U S of A. Lattes are more expensive than cappuccinos, which have no chocolate powder shaken on top and therefore riddle me the difference between the two anyway, filter/pour-over coffee seems to be turned to far more often than the espresso machine, and the other day my long black appeared to have been shaken. Add to that the pressure of remembering to tip and wrangling the maths of that in my hasn't-seen-math-since-high-school-brain and before you know it you've got one confused little Lucy.
This coffee-flavoured microcosm goes a long way to explaining the scope of my experiences so far in America. I've split my two weeks between the coastal suburbs of San Francisco, California, and the sprawling vistas of Reno, Nevada. I've been hanging out with two very dear friends, and riding their coattails of local knowledge to great hikes, delicious foods, nightlife and daylife and everything in between. When I'm left to my own devices the results are far more varied- my accent has caused great confusion when I try and order food, I've been known to tip up to 30% in panic, I've wandered into some interesting neighbourhoods (and then out again post haste), and in general realised that while the impression we Aussies tend to have of America is that is it just a much bigger version of Aus, the reality is far more complicated.
It is pretty incredible how many realities exist in this vast country. As you’ll see from the photos that I’ve attached to this entry, all I had to do was cross a state line and I went from sandals to snow shoes, from lush Californian forests to a high desert. I have hung out in coffee shops/co-working spaces that offer coffees for almost half the price of the bus journey between San Fran and Reno, and the bus stations along that route where I didn’t hear English spoken for the better part of a day. I’ve marched in one of the student-led protests advocating for tighter gun control, and seen an ad for a raffle where the first prize is an assault rifle. I have felt every emotion in the book- absolute joy adventuring and talking and laughing with my friends, watching a dog discover the beach for the first time, snowboarding on pristine Lake Tahoe slopes, breaking it down on a crowded dance floor, horse riding through sandy desert slopes. I have been intimidated by an immigration official (who tried to tell me Central America didn’t exist, which really didn’t help the situation), and by standing out when walking through neighbourhoods that I didn’t know any better to not casually wander into, by my first of many Greyhound adventures, by a girl in a onesie who didn’t like the looks of me and aggressively told me so. I’ve learnt that when my American friends tell me that certain parts of certain cities may not be safe, they’re not coddling me or joking in the slightest. I’ve felt really naive and innocent, but also empowered, by the strength of high school students organising nation-wide protests, humbled, by a friend thinking to give a meal to a homeless man, and awed, by the beautiful nature just begging to be explored. There is far more readily available organic/vegan foodstuffs here, but then also the processed food is that much more processed, with added sugar really being hard to avoid.
All in all, getting a handle on America is going to take a while. My local guides have gone a long way to expedite this process, which I am so very very grateful for.
This first set of photos is from my time in San Francisco and the surrounding coast. I’ve been so lucky to stay with my friend from Moscow, Em, with her family in Palo Alto. Palo Alto is in Silicon Valley (which I definitely imagined as an actual valley filled with all the tech giants but not much else)(I was very wrong) and we’ve had a great time exploring the bay trail on bikes, admiring towering gum trees on foot (feels like home), picnicking and beaching and electric scootering and dancing and introducing the family dog Zoe (apparently she is part German Shepherd but I am convinced she is a giant Corgi) to the wonders of digging in sand. Em has been super patient fielding all my novice-American-traveller questions and it has been so lovely to see her outside of the emotional minefield that was Moscow.
This coffee-flavoured microcosm goes a long way to explaining the scope of my experiences so far in America. I've split my two weeks between the coastal suburbs of San Francisco, California, and the sprawling vistas of Reno, Nevada. I've been hanging out with two very dear friends, and riding their coattails of local knowledge to great hikes, delicious foods, nightlife and daylife and everything in between. When I'm left to my own devices the results are far more varied- my accent has caused great confusion when I try and order food, I've been known to tip up to 30% in panic, I've wandered into some interesting neighbourhoods (and then out again post haste), and in general realised that while the impression we Aussies tend to have of America is that is it just a much bigger version of Aus, the reality is far more complicated.
It is pretty incredible how many realities exist in this vast country. As you’ll see from the photos that I’ve attached to this entry, all I had to do was cross a state line and I went from sandals to snow shoes, from lush Californian forests to a high desert. I have hung out in coffee shops/co-working spaces that offer coffees for almost half the price of the bus journey between San Fran and Reno, and the bus stations along that route where I didn’t hear English spoken for the better part of a day. I’ve marched in one of the student-led protests advocating for tighter gun control, and seen an ad for a raffle where the first prize is an assault rifle. I have felt every emotion in the book- absolute joy adventuring and talking and laughing with my friends, watching a dog discover the beach for the first time, snowboarding on pristine Lake Tahoe slopes, breaking it down on a crowded dance floor, horse riding through sandy desert slopes. I have been intimidated by an immigration official (who tried to tell me Central America didn’t exist, which really didn’t help the situation), and by standing out when walking through neighbourhoods that I didn’t know any better to not casually wander into, by my first of many Greyhound adventures, by a girl in a onesie who didn’t like the looks of me and aggressively told me so. I’ve learnt that when my American friends tell me that certain parts of certain cities may not be safe, they’re not coddling me or joking in the slightest. I’ve felt really naive and innocent, but also empowered, by the strength of high school students organising nation-wide protests, humbled, by a friend thinking to give a meal to a homeless man, and awed, by the beautiful nature just begging to be explored. There is far more readily available organic/vegan foodstuffs here, but then also the processed food is that much more processed, with added sugar really being hard to avoid.
All in all, getting a handle on America is going to take a while. My local guides have gone a long way to expedite this process, which I am so very very grateful for.
This first set of photos is from my time in San Francisco and the surrounding coast. I’ve been so lucky to stay with my friend from Moscow, Em, with her family in Palo Alto. Palo Alto is in Silicon Valley (which I definitely imagined as an actual valley filled with all the tech giants but not much else)(I was very wrong) and we’ve had a great time exploring the bay trail on bikes, admiring towering gum trees on foot (feels like home), picnicking and beaching and electric scootering and dancing and introducing the family dog Zoe (apparently she is part German Shepherd but I am convinced she is a giant Corgi) to the wonders of digging in sand. Em has been super patient fielding all my novice-American-traveller questions and it has been so lovely to see her outside of the emotional minefield that was Moscow.
This next collection is from Reno, Nevada, where I stayed with a friend from university in Australia (many a moon ago now) Sally, her partner Lewis, and their baby ball python Ralphie. Sal is in the final throes of med school, but somehow was gifted a week off which led to adventure upon adventure- we went snow-shoeing (we also went twisted-up-in-snow-shoe-falling-and-flailing) to look over Lake Tahoe, where little chickadees (yes that is their real name)(I suppose I can’t talk when my favourite bird remains the kookaburra) tried to steal our nuts and even went to far as to land on our persons, we went snowboarding/skiing and horse riding and walking and grocery shopping (the American supermarket is truly a palace of wonders) and in between we talked and laughed and then talked and laughed some more. We adventured up to Virginia City, an old silver/gold rush town that used to be wealthier than San Francisco and home of the aforementioned gun raffle, which was a real wild wild west town and which I loved.
I’m back in San Francisco for the moment, admiring kite surfers under the Golden Gate Bridge (but not shelling out $100 USD/hour to hire gear) and organising myself to leave Cali behind and stop back in Reno for a few more days (and visit a Six Flags amusement park!!) before beginning my huge Greyhound trek across the country to New Orleans, Louisiana, via Dallas, Texas. Two days and two nights of travel will see me arrive in NOLA in time for both my birthday and the New Orleans Jazz Festival, and a whole new part of this huge country to explore.
Maybe by then I’ll have my coffee order down.
Maybe by then I’ll have my coffee order down.
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