Why You Should Visit the USA

Why You Should Visit the USA

The United States has long been written off as a destination for tourists, not travellers, man. Even before Chipolata Fingers tweet stormed his way into the White House, the home of the free was an end point for the unimaginative, for those drank the Kool-Aid proffered up by Hollywood and saw Disneyland and Hollywood Boulevard and riding in a yellow taxi as being the heights of intrepidity.

But we’re here to say boo-urns to that! The Great Satan is as much fun as you want to make of it! Remember that oft rolled out stat, that yanks have fuck-all passports between them? Well not only is that mustang shit, it’s also understandable. Their nation is a universe upon itself, replete with martian landscapes, aliens illegal and extraterrestrial and a shit-tonne of stars — we can’t fault the Doodle Dandies for not being interested in engaging with the rest of the world. As a sexy young traveller in the prime of their life, you can do worse things than sticking your beak into this utterly interesting federation of states.

As Global Hobos you guys are all like, Yeah, sure, right, and are probably busy planning a winter working as a glassy in a Bhutanese bistro, milking yaks in the morning and jacking off wayward reincarnates of an evening. But look, give the yanks a chance; heaven knows they’re having a hard run and heck knows that the US of A can be a certifiable whale of a time.

Visit Before the Empire Falls

…bcause it’s irrefutably heading back towards dust under the tutelage of Barron’s dad and his inept horde of utter horrors. Don’t you wish you were in Carthage before the Romans gave it the ol’ sack treatment, chatting Alps with elephants and firing up your kiln for some Phoenician pottery? Or had a chance to bask in the glory of Pax Britannica and take high tea in Kensington as the spoils of the savages were brought back and paraded amongst the dowagers. Well don’t wait until it’s too late! Come and witness the dying throes of empire, complete with the bombastic blusters of a nation and people unaware of their impending irrelevance.

Despite Dodgy Voting Habits, They’re Fucken Nice People

There’s no denying that your average American possesses a dumb positivity that is hardly matched anywhere else on earth. Of all the world’s peoples, they have to be among the easiest when it comes to having the wool pulled over, so you can basically say anything to them and have them hooked like a fish on heroin. They are also so ignorant of the world that the minutiae of your day-to-day reads like a Homeric epic to them; they might not know their Zealand from New Zealand (idiots!), but you’ll have them wrapped around your masterfully woven tale about boiling water in an electric jug. (Fun fact: in one week, two different Americans in my office melted electric jugs on a stovetop — the second after the first was universally sledged for his utter stupidity).

Crap Capitalism Equals Exceptional Service

In America the system works like this: businesses don’t pay their employees enough, so you make up the difference with tips, and because of this, staff are actually nice to you. The system is completely rekt, but it also results in incredible service, so maybe it ain’t so bad after all. For those of us who are trés European, good service is little more than mythology, whispered among cafe patrons while hungover old men make you wait an hour for the bill. But in the States, hoowee, Debbie will ask you how you’re doin’, hun? Bring out your food pronto, ear-to-ear smile emblazoned with Days Of Our Lives pearly whites, and maybe even drop you a bit of good old, down south, hootenanny, go Chargers cleavage as she cleans the coffee cups. Flick that single mum the bare minimum and you can both go about your day with a spring inside your instep.

Trump’s Travel Bans Don’t Extend To You

If schadenfreude is delighting in the misfortune of others, perhaps it’s schadenfrlittlebitcunty to derive a little bit of pleasure from knowing that the misfortune and unfairness that befalls the world’s worst off doesn’t apply to you. Chances are that if you’re reading this, vigilant civilians won’t call the secret police when you’re buying a box cutter for your arts project; you won’t have your market day cut short by a missile toting high-whining glint in the sky being piloted by a Cheezle munching nerd 10,000kms away; border police won’t profile you and deny your entry to the US based on your misfortune on being born in a country where the majority follows the Prophet. In Europe and the English-speaking lands, our passports are golden tickets, and while we emphasise with our developing world brethren and wish that their lot would improve, we’re happy that it’s not ours as we breeze through checkpoints and swan around the world like Dutch spice traders. The only thing that we have to go through is a face-to-face interview at your newest US consulate ever since Trump suspended the US visa waiver program, which, compared to having your cavities explored by an overly patriotic high school dropout, ain’t that harsh a fate.

You’re Probably Hot There

We don’t know what the heck is wrong with them, but for some reason the seppos (septic tank rhymes with yank, classic) seem to think we’re all babes; like, all of us. They find the utterly repulsive British accent “charming” and consider Australians’ horrendous vulgarities to be a form of courtship. Basically, anybody who didn’t grow up within first base from ma and pa’s is considered exotic. Many a toey traveller has raised the volume and over accentuated the accent in order to grab the attention of some easily fooled floozy or fuckboi and has come across victorious, punching well above their weight division as they put up with inane chit chat in order to spangle the stars on some stranger’s banner. Presidential!

The Cliches Are Fun As Fuck

This is the main reason to visit the US. Disneyland is fun as fuck; walking around New York is like starring in innumerable movies and sitcoms; you can go down to Santa Monica and rollerblade the boulevard while eating an ice-cream. The Grand Canyon. Vegas. Waikiki. The NBA, hotdogs, fast food, you freaking name it. American culture has spread the world over, and you’re a dirty filthy liar if you say that you’ve got no interest in getting down with it. Stop being such a vagabond snob and do something just because it’s fun! Treat yo’self to some shameless indulgences and be happy that you get to do so as a tourist, that supersizing and gasoline guzzling aren’t your day in, day out, just a pleasant little bout of good-time gluttony in the midst of a world gone mad.

Ex-editor of Australia’s Surfing Life, current producer and host of 50 Fiestas, Barcelona resident and drinker of all the wine, every last drop of it.