I just came back from Asheville, NC. That trip had been on my bucket list for about ten years -- back when I lived in Pennsylvania, my best friend from grad school and I had discussed taking a road trip down the East Coast to the Blue Ridge Mountains, and then our schedules didn't align, and then I moved to Texas. But ever since the move, I would have that pang of regret whenever I saw something mentioned Asheville online, and since I subscribed to multiple Instagram feeds about Asheville, I would regret not going in a semi-frequent basis. After my mother died, I tried to check off more items on my bucket list, but going to Asheville in October during leaf season proved far too expensive for what I was willing to spend on it, and it was only two weeks ago that I decided to make the trip happen. And I am so glad I did.
It is not just because I like getting closure for things I wanted to do. It is, mostly, because from the moment I landed at Asheville Regional Airport, I met so many interesting people who gave me tips on the next thing I should do or see, and it felt I was meant to be there. Dallas has such a narrow definition of success, especially for women -- blow-dry your hair smooth and long with little curls at the bottom, wear white pants, wear stilettos, paint your nails, showcase a signature necklace along with your designer's purse, plot to move to University Park where you can bitch away with other housewives after yoga, devote all your energy to snatching a man because how dare you believe you are worthy even if you're not a man's sidekick -- that it is easy to forget this is not normal anywhere else in the country. And so I felt home in Asheville in ways I haven't felt in Dallas ever since I moved there, and I understand by now that I will never feel at home in Dallas.
Let me get over the key points of the trip. I landed in Asheville, got an Uber. There is a shortage of drivers, but I was lucky: I only had to wait a few minutes. The driver had only been in Asheville for a couple of years, ten at most, and I asked what had made him move, since it is a very salient question for myself at this point. (Not that I don't like waste my life in the pinnacle of consumerism where wealthy donors think they can buy prestigious, undeserved appointments for their proteges because the university wants their money at all costs, but I digress.) And the Uber driver mentioned he had asked a location astrologer and reader, I find my work environment to be so bad that I asked the driver for the astrologer's name and got it and checked that person online and ascertained that they were not fraudsters and I am going to ask them for advice just because my current environment is not good for people like me, whose family members got themselves out of poverty by playing by the rules and believing in the system. The system where I work has a distinct predisposition toward letting self-pay students do whatever they want, and it is my fault I didn't realize early on the problem it would become.
So I reached the hotel, glad to have met my Uber driver, and went to dinner across the street at a place called Salsa's. It was crowded so I ended up sharing a table with the person waiting by herself in line before me, who ended up being an anti-vaccine Trumpist working as an air stewardess for a well-known airline, and I have to say she was amazingly nice and helpful in giving me recommendations for things to do while I was in town. In fact, I was aware of most of the restaurants I visited later during my stay only because she had recommended them: Chai Pani, Sunny Point, Limones. So here I am the next day, trying to get into Chai Pain for a late lunch. The wait was twenty-five minutes, which surprised me because it was after the main lunch rush, and since it was very windy I didn't want to walk around and ducked into an art store called Sol Collective two doors down, where I bought some cute accessories, mostly necklaces. The co-owner, who was manning the cashier's desk, told me Chai Pani had received a James Beard Award the previous year, and that was why they were so popular.
Then my seat got ready and I went to Chai Pani (pictured left is what I ordered). I was seated at the bar where I had delicious food and ended up striking a wonderful conversation with my neighbor, who was in Asheville for a five-week residency in ceramics. Reading about the James Beard award, I learned that local Asheville restaurant Curate (pronounced the Spanish way, with the accent on "-te") had also received a Beard award in a more minor category, so of course I had to go to Curate for dinner. (Those restaurants were all within walkable distance from my hotel.) I ended up striking a very nice conversation there with my neighbors, including a salesman from Charlotte who adores Asheville and whose daughter was planning on studying in the city.)
Left is my favorite drink at Curate, if you're curious.
On Wednesday morning I went to Sunny Point for brunch -- that one required an Uber. Then I walked around the River Arts District and had a cortado at Summit Coffee. I also wandered through Marquee, which is supposed to be an antique store but really is a home decoration store with artsy personality.
Then in the evening I went to Limones, where I continued my arduous task of trying as many ceviches from as many restaurants as I could, and the mercado ceviche was indeed spectacular.
On Thursday I had the most amazing avocado toast with eggs for breakfast at the hotel, and for lunch I went to Wasabi's, (rock shrimp + Play boy roll + sake), and then I dropped by the Asheville Art Museum.
For dinner I went to Posana (kale + trout + some delicious cocktail I forget the name of). Before dinner I attended the social hour at the hotel where I met two wonderful elderly ladies who showed me the rooftop bar of the AC Hotel across the street where I enjoyed a magnificent view of the North Carolina hills from there.
Then I returned to my hotel where I tried a drink or two at the hotel bar before going back to my room and catching up on sleep. (The bartender was another great conversationalist, planning to move to Vermont in August after seven years in Asheville.) On Friday I had another great avocado toast for breakfast at the hotel and then I packed my suitcase to head to the airport. My Uber driver was a very interesting person -- is anyone in Asheville not interesting? -- who had moved to Asheville from Charlotte for a girl a few years ago and had stayed after she had left. He was active in a ultimate frisbee professional league and talked about how he wished he had gone to college.
I regret not having time to visit the Biltmore Hotel or the Omni Grove Inn, but if I go back (I hope I will), this will be high on my to-do list. Ultimately the trip was amazing because it allowed me to connect with a lot of different people, highlighting that the problem for me in Dallas is more about a poor fit between me and the community than an issue with my ability to connect with strangers, I am just not in the place where I am meant to be, is all. In Asheville, I ate exceptionally good food, and gained a peace of mind I normally don't have, in addition to benefiting from many amazing conversations.
This was a bucket-list item and I am so glad I took the time to take the trip after so many years of putting it in the back burner! I'll remain grateful for years. And to all of those who make Asheville unique: thank you.
Update: I forgot to mention I visited the Black Mountain College Museum in downtown Asheville! I can't believe it slipped my mind to mention it. The museum is small but it was a delight, especially given how much I like non-conformists and hyper-creative types. Highly recommended!
