One of my best friends, Yaroslav, travels a lot for work and is our go-to expert for all things related to airline status. If you have enough money spend and premier-qualifying miles, you reach a certain status. The levels for United go from Silver, Gold, Platinum, to 1K. By December, he was almost at Platinum from his work trips, and convinced me and Trixie to take a cheap trip somewhere with enough miles to push him over the edge. Needless to say, he’s incredibly bougie and we mock him relentlessly unless we benefit from secondhand perks.

We floated a few ideas and finally decided on Nashville for the weekend.

 

Thursday

We left after work Thursday, and by some miracle, Yaroslav and one guest were upgraded to first class due to his Gold status. Three best friends, and two available first class seats? It’s like an experiment in psychologic warfare. Straight up Sophie’s choice. However, we had already established that I had never flown in first class. So when we were informed of the upgrade, he looked at me and I looked at him. We clamored up to the front of the airplane, the land of my people, where I’ve always belonged, leaving Trixie like a wounded animal. While there were a few rude hand gestures on her part, the first class curtain swung shut, and we no longer had to worry about the rabble behind us. We were fresh-lime-in-your-soda people now. The extra space, the free snacks I declined and then stole from Yaroslav, the Baileys Irish coffee we toasted? Best flight ever.

In the days leading up to our trip, Yaroslav had commented on the absolute necessity of us all going out and celebrating Thursday night. Approximately 4 minutes after arriving at the delightfully adorable boutique hotel, he faceplanted on the bed like a falling slab of concrete and no sign of movement. Thankfully Trixie had forgiven our brief flirtation with the upper class by this point, so I swapped out friends and the two of us walked around and explored the immediate area, which mainly consisted of a Panera, a bar, a few corporate buildings, and a Walgreens. Not a bad day.

 

Friday

After popcorning our sleeping beauty awake, and with only a vague idea of our day, we headed out for some traditional southern breakfast. Fried chicken, cheese grits, iced tea, and French toast? Felt just like home. Yaroslav’s first taste of cheese grits went over very well, and I was happy to be the one explaining food for once. Culture crew strikes again! Then we headed over to the Cumberland River Pedestrian Bridge, where we looked over the Nashville skyline, and took a bunch of photos to Yaroslav’s hilarious instructions (“Look like you’re thinking! No, like you’re thinking!”). It was beautiful, but it was COLD. Like crunch-over-and-quickly-waddle-away cold.

But we stuck it out and walked around a bit more, meeting a Canadian couple that were as country as anyone I’ve ever seen, full accents and all. They explained that apparently there are some towns on the eastern coast of Canada that are basically mirror images of some southern towns in America. Who knew? They were very nice and we took turns taking pictures of each other.

We crossed back over the bridge and began to wander around. Yaroslav and I occasionally like to play this game where we body-check each other, basically competing to see who can bop the other the farthest. I figure I’m petite and more likely to get away with it if I ever bop him too hard. But we were really cold by this point, and the bopping continued as we crossed the street. Narrowly regaining my balance and not tipping over into oncoming traffic, Trixie dramatically announced that we were infants and that she was cold and wanted to not be cold. By this point, we were standing right in front of a nail salon. The world provides.

With surprisingly little complaining, Yaroslav joined us for full leg massage and pedicure, which was not what I had planned to be doing in Nashville, but was a ton of fun.

Then we ubered closer to Nashville center and checked out some adorable small businesses, where I bought some jam and admired the hand-crafted necklaces. We passed 3 or 4 lively coffee shops with patrons strewn all over the place with computers, but the lines were a bit too long for us to wait on coffee.

Yaroslav had heard about Hattie B’s Hot Chicken and was determined to try it, so away we went. The rumor is that hot chicken got started when a woman wanted to punish her husband for cheating by pouring cayenne pepper onto his chicken, but it ended up being a hit instead! I have to say, it was quite delicious. They offer other traditional southern sides like green beans and mac n cheese. It’s a no-frills establishment, but demand is always high. Hot chicken has popped up all over the country from KFC to local restaurants, but Nashville claims to be the origin of the trend. All I can tell you is that it was definitely worth the experience.

Next, we walked along Music Row, ducking into bars, listening to music, and absorbing the scenery. We landed at the Wildhorse Saloon, where you can go line-dance in the middle. There are all levels of dancers, and they are incredibly welcoming, so I would recommend adding this to your itinerary if you want to dance.

A bit tired from packing so much into one day, we took dinner at the hotel, talked to a few waiters who moved closer because they loved country music, and relaxed for a bit before passing out.

 

Saturday

The relaxation continued into Saturday morning, as we entertained ourselves and slowly got ready for lunch. Yaroslav, always lucky to have such exquisite females in his life, was treated to a lesson on all that goes into makeup. For some reason, toner is still the only thing he remembers.

We went to another adorable café for lunch, eating much of the same fare as Friday. Once again, the cheese grits were a source of joy and fascination, and we were treated to a lesson by Yaroslav about why Post-Malone has roots in country music. The more you know.

Trixie had to catch a plane after lunch to make it back in time for a friend’s birthday, so we hugged her goodbye and went to see the newest Star Wars movie. Again, not the way I envisioned Nashville, but I think we balanced history and relaxation pretty well in the end. A bit fried chicken-ed out, we had veggie smoothies for early dinner, and grabbed an Uber to go see the Gaylord Grand Opryland Hotel. Ten minutes into the drive and a few pleasantries exchanged with the Uber driver, Yaroslav mentioned that he really needed to pee. We had 10.5 miles to go, and I told him we would be there in no time. Famous last words. I don’t know if this is how traffic usually is around rush hour or if it was congested because of Christmas, but it took us TWO HOURS to make it there. Ten miles. TWO HOURS. We ended up learning all about the driver’s childhood struggle with her Jehovah’s Witness upbringing, the rejection by her family, and her eventual conversion to Baptism. It was actually a sprawling and engaging story, and while we both enjoyed it, Yaroslav was close to losing the battle with his bladder by the time we actually made it to the entrance.

After a quick bathroom break, newly refreshed, we investigated the tiny city inside the hotel. We were greeted almost immediately by a massive Christmas tree, nearly reaching the top of the ceiling. It’s hard not to get into the Christmas spirit in a place like this. Past the tree, there was almost the feel of being outdoors. Foliage lined the walkways, some sort of moss wrapped around the hotel columns, and there were bridges climbing around and over other attractions, leading to a feeling of being in a large maze. There’s a 4.5 acre garden, and even gondola rides along the indoor river and water shows outside of an area I assume is a food court. We grabbed some cinnamon pretzels like the classy Americans we are and people watched, reminiscing on our trip.

There’s all kinds of shopping in this area, but when we were finished, most things were closed so we went straight back to the hotel. The ride back was mercifully shorter than the ride there!

 

Sunday

Sunday morning we ate basic but ridiculously comforting broccoli and cheddar soup from the Panera beside the hotel before heading out for our flights. After hugging Yaroslav goodbye, I went to my gate and asked if I could be put on the earlier flight home to Virginia. They only had one seat left, but gave me a new ticket. Already excited that I only had to wait another 10 minutes for my flight, I then realized it was another first class seat! Merry Christmas to me!