While I’d been hoping to visit Nashville for about 4 years, my recent trip was planned in only 2 weeks, and my plans shifted pretty dramatically less than 24 hours prior to departure.
When I’m traveling, I tend to chase newness and emotion and change and adventure and I’ll probably write more on that later, but all you need to know now is that I usually choose to drive. This trip was no exception, which I realized was risky in February. However, it was also cheaper, and when you choose to drive, you also choose to pull over for sunsets and antique stores in old gas stations and the world’s biggest paintings and eggs. The intersection of slowness and spontaneity changes me in a way that flying doesn’t quite reach.
But in a twist of fate, as plots tend to do, the day before I was to leave, a storm warning was released—with ice—directly along my route. I will drive through many less-than-ideal conditions (I’m Midwestern, after all), but icy roads tend to be where I draw the line. I don’t need to spend the night in an ditch somewhere in Missouri.
Originally, I was supposed to begin driving home on Friday evening to get a few hours under my belt and lessen the load of Saturday’s drive. But now that I was flying, I could leave on Saturday instead. However, I didn’t have a hotel for Friday night and most of the places that had bed-bug-free reviews were booked or expensive. And most of the good (read: clean and safe) and affordable Airbnb’s were booked.
So I was feeling at a loss for options. Maybe it was my destiny to stay at an overpriced Tennessee Holiday Inn or Best Western. At least it would have free breakfast.
Somehow in the midst of my desperate googling for options, I recalled Urban Cowboy B&B, which was far beyond my budget, but in their Instagram bio was a link to a different place: the Dive Motel. I clicked on it, curious, and was swept away by the bright colors and 70’s themes—and the disco balls in every room. It was definitely too cool to fit into my price range, right? WRONG. And Expedia had an even better deal.
So on Friday night, I found myself at the Dive Motel. Being that it was one day it snowed in Tennessee, it was too chilly to enjoy the pool, but the bar had tea, so I cozied up in a booth for a bit, drinking Earl Gray and reading. And, yes, my room had a disco ball and different music stations. And, yes, I definitely danced in my room. You don’t have to wait to have a date or have a reason or have a big budget to fully savor the world and step into new places. You don’t need a plan free of mess to have an adventure full of magic. You don’t need a reason to dance. You are here, the disco ball is on: for tonight, that’s enough.
