Hania found Nashville “exotic” – we were walking up Broadway on Sunday morning, music pouring out of the honkytonks as she said this – but not especially attractive. The European ideal of urban beauty doesn’t really exist in the U.S., outside of San Francisco and New Orleans, and parts of Philadelphia and Boston. The British writer Cyril Connolly once famously remarked that “New York would be the most beautiful city in the world if one never had to descend below the fortieth floor.”
Instead of beauty, American cities have character, and in this category Nashville ranks high. We depended a lot on Lyft, because of Hania’s sprained ankle, and the drivers, without fail, had an easy-going friendliness. A few of them welcomed us to Nashville as soon as we got in their cars. One asked us if we had any questions. “I do,” I said. “What makes the people here so nice?”
“We all had grandmas who taught us to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you,’" the driver said. "And if you didn’t they’d knock the teeth out of your head.”
