Ann Abor: Five Miles of Insanity/Reality, Surrounded by the Insanity/Reality of Everywhere Else (Delete Where Appropriate)

USA - Ann Arbor, Michigan

“Take your shoes off.” The Southern drawl was unmistakable, even though this was rural Michigan in November. Handlebar-moustached and with a concealed gun holster, he looked like the type of man who did not take no for an answer. All around were cowboy hats, riding spurs, and boots of every variety, skinned from crocodiles, sharks, ostriches. On the wall were photos of hunting trips and the spoils of the chase: mounted moose skulls with bullet holes. Real, genuine bullet holes. This was a bonafide American moment, where cultures clash and a British boy’s ‘fight or flight’ instinct is set firmly to ‘flight’.

The man in question was actually rather small, with a smiling wife and a decent turn in sarcasm, and he owned a cowboy store in the middle of a tiny little town a few miles outside of Ann Arbor, Michigan. In a bid to find the real ‘Hillbilly’ America, myself, Dean and Adam Jacobs drove between the towns that are strewn around the larger (but not really that big) metropolis of Ann Arbor. We found Dexter and Chelsea, two townships where most of the population had not ventured further than the state line. The cowboy shop was in the middle of Chelsea, Michigan, a pretty enough town with a Main Street that looked like something out of Disneyland, complete with typical barber shops, confectionary stores and, yes, somewhere you can buy a holster for your gun. When we entered the cowboy shop, the patron must have felt he was in for a killing. In terms of money, that is. Although he spoke affectionately of his concealed gun and holster, and despite our own trepidation at his rather earnest attempts to sell us something ($450 for a boot? No thank you), actually it was rather unlikely he would have resorted to using live ammunition. This was more Glengarry Glen Ross than Platoon.

The shop itself was fascinating, illustrating what can only be described as the most complete clash of cultures since Prince Phillip condescended some tribal aborigines in Australia. The cowboy was all “y’all”, dominating the room despite being softly spoken, eyeballing each of us, perhaps dubious of our accents, or surprised to find non-locals in his store. We, on the other hand, had entered in order to look at the boots and mooch around as tourists are want to do. His determination, echoed in the statement “take your shoes off”, rather than politely enquiring whether we would like to try on some boots, was unnerving. Ultimately, he was amiable enough, but I could not help but think just how out of place this person would be in the middle of London. Like so many Americans, he clearly had not ventured too far beyond his own country’s borders. He was also a fairly obvious Republican. That, of course, is fine. Who am I, as a foreigner in this land, to judge somebody else’s political convictions (beyond the downright scandalous ideologies of some Republican politicians)? However, the cowboy’s description of Ann Arbor as “five miles of insanity surrounded by the reality of everywhere else” and as “Moscow on the Huron”, failed to ring true with me. If anything, I found Ann Arbor to be the very definition of normalcy, with normal restaurants, cafés and bars, bringing in normal people who had been to a normal job or studied at a normal university and shopped in a normal mall. The surrounded area, including towns like Dexter and Chelsea, were the opposite, emerging slowly out of fields and run-down railroad factories, like little ghost towns on the horizon, occupied by folk content to never leave. It is not necessarily a bad or wrong way of life. It is just not what any of us are used to. Certainly, however, it was a fascinating experience walking around.

Similarly enjoyable was Ann Arbor itself, and arriving from New York for a few days of calm with our good friend Adam Jacobs. It is worth noting at this juncture that Adam is not really in Ann Arbor out of choice. While fond of the town, and building up an impressive photography business with close links to the huge University of Michigan (check out www.adamjacobsphotography.com), Adam ended up in Ann Arbor in a bid to find a recovery from a number of physically and emotionally draining medical issues. It was, therefore, fantastic to see Adam doing so well, for him to be able to join Dean and I every day, and to hear of his plans to spend some time back in England in January. Everybody hopes one day he will make it back to London permanently, but in the meantime he has created a flourishing business and social life in a lovely town. Ann Arbor is part-University town, part-Hi Tech industry, with 40,000 students at the University of Michigan, and that number again working at companies like Google and Borders (both founded in Michigan). The town has a suitably modern feel, and a young edge that draws in thousands, particular to the college football games. Michigan’s football team (and yes, I am aware how wrong it is to call it ‘football’) is one of America’s most heralded, playing in a 100,000 seat stadium (that Adam has pitchside access to for his photography) and attracting millions to TV audiences. Imagine Nottingham University playing home games at Old Trafford and having their matches against Loughborough broadcast on BBC1. That is how big college sport is in America, and how significant Michigan is within that.

Dean and I enjoyed driving around in Adam’s car (getting some good practice in for later in our trip), visiting Ann Arbor’s art museum and library (the largest in the world), as well as enjoying the beauty of the university’s law department, which is modelled on Christ College, Oxford, and creates a Hogwarts-esque façade over the main street. There is also a sports bar, The Blue Leprechaun, which shows soccer matches from Europe. This was a good thing. We enjoyed a number of Ann Abor haunts, popular with the locals and students like, including a delicatessen called Zingerman’s. Here you can buy the ‘greatest sandwich in America’, according to Oprah Winfrey no less. It is a truly remarkable place, where you can try anything in the room as a sample, free of charge, including a 100-year-old $750 bottle of balsamic vinegar, not to mention chocolates made of 100% cocoa, and breads beyond the dreams of Carmelli’s. Ostensibly a ‘Jewish style’ deli, with latke and corned beef, Zingerman’s attracts customers from all over the world. They take their job so seriously that they send their staff to locations across the globe to learn about what they sell in the store. We spoke with one young lady who was sent to Italy for four months to learn about balsamic vinegar. Can you imagine that happening at Yummies in Radlett?

Also in Ann Abor is Scorekeepers, a well-known nightspot at the University. We were told to expect plenty of attention from attractive sorority girls interested in our British accents. Dean and I arrived in the bar early, started quickly on the vodkas, and waited for the fun to start. In they poured, in their hoodies and ugg boots, ready to dance and drink with two boys from London. We were in prime position by the side of the bar, talking loudly so that they might hear a touch of Robert Pattison in our voices. Alas, despite a good night out in a classic American university environment, our expectations were perhaps a little out of kilter.

Ann Arbor is full of these ‘classic American university’ moments. Everybody knows that American football teams take to the field with real pomp and ceremony, full of colour and noise. Obviously, putting on such a show takes a lot of practice, and Dean, Adam and I were lucky enough to spend one evening watching the University of Michigan Marching Band practice for the forthcoming match-up against Perdue University on Saturday. It was bitterly cold, on a slab of concrete marked out as an American Football pitch, but there they were, blowing their tubas and trumpets, twirling their batons and streamers, criss-crossing in perfect unison. It was amazing fun to watch and a shame we will already be in Chicago when they perform for real on the weekend. Michigan is a patriotic University. Everybody wears the football team’s colours (maize yellow and blue). People exclaim “Go blue!” in the street to each other, and the Michigan ‘M’ is everywhere to be seen. It is a world away from the reserved antics of our own academic institutions.

Although our time in Ann Arbor seems busy, it was good to calm down a little after the madness of Boston and New York. The few days we spent their acted well as a segway between the America of big cities, and smalltown USA, which we will encounter throughout the driving part of our adventure from this Sunday onwards. Taking an afternoon to walk around the railway between Dexter and Chelsea reinforced in my mind the fact that this country is absolutely gigantic. Here we were, just a few miles outside of Ann Arbor, walking over railway lines that stretched almost impossibly in a straight line towards a horizon that in turn disappeared into the vastness beyond. We clambered aboard abandoned carriages and walked through depots and sidings that seemed like ghost towns. Go into a Whole Foods store in America and you will find a lot of everything. But step just a little bit out of town, and there is a lot of nothing as far as the eye can see.

It is a staggering thought that Dean and I will only really scratch the surface of this country’s vastness on our trip. I type this on an Amtrak train heading for one of the greatest cities in the world: Chicago. There we will reconvene with Dylan Viner, and another Habs Boy in America in the form of Robert Gilbert. Chicago has enjoyed a spectacular rise to prominence, particularly because of President Obama, and now dominates the Midwest. Detroit, once the New York of this region, languishes in its shadow, with run-down businesses, discarded buildings and warehouses, and a bleak sense of hopelessness pervades. Ann Arbor sits between the two, a welcoming haven of entertainment and old friends.

So it is time to wrap up warm and head for Illinois and The Windy City. We’ve got our winter coats ready, but sadly no cowboy boots.