People are the Best Part of Travel
A memorable meal I had in Crawfordsville, Indiana.
I’ve been thinking about this Anthony Bourdain quote recently.
“So many of the good times traveling this world relate directly to finding a human face to associate with your destination, the food you eat, and the memories you’ll keep with you forever.”
Usually, this Substack is about structures, buildings, or policies– the non-human elements that encourage quality face-to-face interaction.
Today I’d like to talk about the importance of personal connection in travel.
Two summers ago, I was on a solo drive from Kentucky to Illinois. It was one of those properly sticky days you get in the Midwest in July, so I kept my windows rolled down and the radio blasting to distract myself from the humidity.
The drive was long, and I was restless and hungry, so I detoured from the highway into the city limits of Crawfordsville, Indiana. I found free parking in a CVS lot and walked around the downtown just as the sun started to tilt into golden-hour evening glow.
Now, I’m not going to sit here and tell you that Crawfordsville is the greatest town I’ve ever visited. It’s a pretty run-of-the-mill midwest small town, and it would probably bore most city people to death within an hour. It does have a pretty neat county courthouse, though.
The reason this one afternoon in Crawfordsville is singed into my brain is due to one conversation I had on the downtown streets.
With the goal of a proper meal in my head, I didn’t want gamble on stepping into the first restaurant I came across, and I definitely wasn’t driving to the outskirts of town to settle on Burger King or some other disappointing equivalent of culture-less convenience. I wanted the inside scoop on what was good to eat. And from someone who really knew the town too.
So when I saw a burly, bearded, tattooed man smoking against a bleached brick wall, I figured his advice would beat anything I could find on Yelp. And I was right.
His response to being asked about the best place to eat?
“Hell, I’m a cook at this place right here. I’ll go make you something right now.”
Perfect.
So I followed him inside the All-American joint and sat on their back patio, journaling about the drive and waiting for a Chipotle Chicken Wrap With Fries. The shade was nice, service was fast, and I enjoyed a nice break before getting on the road again. But the funniest part of it all? The food was honestly mediocre. I can clearly remember how Just O.K. it was.
Still, I was happy to have stopped in Crawfordsville, and even happier to have made conversation with someone who actually lived there. There’s something satisfying in the knowledge that your traveling experience is directed by someone with an intimate understanding of that place. It gives your destination true character, an authentic and authoritative personality. Someone to point to and say, “This bearded stranger showed me what this town is all about.”
Had I gone to whatever restaurant has the most stars on google maps, I wouldn’t have spoken to a kind stranger, and I wouldn’t be able to associate Crawfordsville with a welcoming chef. I certainly wouldn’t have remembered it nearly as fondly as I do now.
The next time you travel to a new place, try your best to make small talk with kind strangers, find a human face to associate with your destination, and, if you can help it, don’t order a Chipotle Chicken Wrap With Fries.
