Bobby D'Angelo
Nashville is the capital of Tennessee but also the Airbnb capital of the world. Even the homes of people that live there kind of look like they could be the set of a shitty ABC Family comedy about two divorcees that brought their past families together under one roof. It’s a special place where you can leave ten pounds heavier than you came, briefly fall in love with someone that will unfollow you on Instagram in six months, and listen to great live music from people that look homeless but like in a hot way. Despite having great locals, the city is known for its tourism. Woo Girls, as they are called, represent the groups of girls you will see all along the broadway strip wearing sixty-six dollar white boots from Amazon and trying to stop themselves from rapping along the n-word when a Megan The Stallion song comes on. Between the booze cruise bike, booze cruise tractors, booze cruise pontoon boat, boozy brunch options, and bar crawls, there is no shortage of fun. Broadway may be touristy, but the bars are just as fun nevertheless. Whether your screaming the lyrics to a song you’ve heard thousands of times at Nudies Honky Tonk, telling a girl she is hot enough to move to the midwest for at tin roof, or walking up a million fucking stairs to a rooftop, you’re going to leave with some stories.
In Ireland, thousands of tourists go every year to kiss the blarney stone. In Nashville, thousands of girls named Peyton hook up with Morgan Wallen while he’s also kind of hitting on their Mom. If any member of any village BBC has documented in Africa went to Nashville, they would probably leave wondering why an area that doesn’t have to walk a mile and a half for water consumes so little of it. I’ve been to the city a handful of times at this point, and each time I’ve consumed less water than those Chilean miners from years ago. While the tourist bars get most of the shine, Germantown and the Gulch are home to cool spots with really nice locals. If you want to grab the best burger you’ve ever had in your life, hit Jack Browns. If you want to stick your eye into a hole and watch some vintage shit your Dad definitely watched in the ‘80s, hit Kung Fu. If you want to give a girl who let you bum a cig and then invited you kayaking your friend that happens to be staying in with his girlfriend many states away his number because even those he’s a nice guy, he pantsed you in the seventh grade, and you never forgot it, hit the Dogwood.
Overall, Nashville is a great place. The whole city seems like it was designed by a girl who kind of rejects her Republican Dad, but not really. I’ve had a great time visiting every time I’ve been, and I’d give it an 8.9/10.
