Asheville: Static, Static, Static
okay, so i’m pretty sure i’m running on fumes and lukewarm coffee. 4297999… seriously, what is that number? it just keeps popping into my head. and 1840015211? it’s like a persistent hum. i landed in asheville yesterday, and honestly, it’s… intense. like, aggressively intense. the air feels thick, you know? like you could chew it. i just checked and it's...there right now, hope you like that kind of thing. it’s hovering around 48 degrees, with a humidity that’s trying to drown you in a damp towel.
I’m staying in this tiny Airbnb - it smells faintly of patchouli and regret. the host, a guy named Silas, gave me this cryptic warning: "Don’t trust the banjo players." Seriously. I’m not even kidding. He just stared at me with these unsettlingly bright eyes.
I spent the afternoon wandering around downtown. it’s a weird mix of craft breweries, vintage shops overflowing with questionable clothing, and galleries that look like they haven’t been updated since the 80s. i stumbled upon this place called ‘The Velvet Curtain’ - a record store that’s basically a shrine to obscure 70s prog rock. the owner, a woman with purple hair and a permanent smirk, told me someone told her that the basement is haunted by a disgruntled sound engineer. i’m considering checking it out. maybe with a flashlight.
Speaking of locals, the neighbors are… something else. if you get bored, boone and black mountain are just a short drive away. there’s this family, the Millers, who live across the street. they’re obsessed with competitive bird watching. like, really obsessed. they have a spreadsheet. a spreadsheet. and they glare at anyone who makes too much noise. i heard that they once chased a tourist away for whistling. it’s wild.
I grabbed some food at a place called ‘Biscuit Head’ - massive, over-the-top biscuits with all sorts of crazy toppings. it was… an experience. i also checked out TripAdvisor for some other recommendations. apparently, the Grove Arcade is a must-see, but someone told me it’s mostly just overpriced boutiques. Yelp says to avoid the fried pickles. wise words.
I’m trying to capture the vibe here, but it’s hard. it’s like… a pressure. a constant, low-level hum of creativity and slightly unsettling energy. i’m thinking of hitting up the Folk Art Center tomorrow - maybe i’ll find some banjo players to avoid. or, you know, just buy a weird ceramic frog.
*Pro-Tip: Bring bug spray. Seriously. And maybe earplugs. And a healthy dose of skepticism.
Local Advice: Don’t wear white. It attracts the banjo players. (Seriously.)
Gear List: Camera, notebook, questionable coffee, bug spray, earplugs, a healthy dose of paranoia.
Resources:
Asheville Tourism
TripAdvisor Asheville
Local Events Board
I’m gonna go find another coffee. This static is starting to get to me.
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