Austin
Musings on travel and people
Nothing inspires musing quite like travel. It’s more than the memories of new places, sights, sounds, and people. Travel is the epitome of discovery, something all cities are designed to encourage.
I traveled to downtown Austin, Texas last weekend for a brief work retreat. As someone who works remotely, it is a blessing to build offline relationships with my co-workers. It was my first time in Bat City, as it was for most others who attended. The BBQ was fantastic, live music was blaring, and yes, I saw the bats fly home to the Ann Richards bridge.
I was also struck by the blend of new and old Austin. There are the Koppel and W.B. Smith buildings on Congress Ave. that seem to be dominated by the modern skyscrapers behind them. The placard of the Old First Methodist Church sits quietly on the footing of a new office tower. This clash of old and new exists in almost every city, but it was particulaly vibrant in a place like Austin that has become a millennial playground. And then there are the mullets…
Most cities have similar story arcs. Their blue collar past gives way to arts and culture, which in turn feeds gentrification amid the onslaught of Big Tech. I thought of the kind old woman asking me if I worked in IT while we were waiting to board our flight from Denver. It seems there’s a certain expectation of the people who travel to and live in Austin, for better or worse.
Downtown Austin’s transformation has been immense. The intentional melding of history and the present; the connection between city and nature; the glut of young workers flooding the city. “Weird Austin” seemed to be relegated to the city’s edges. As one person I spoke to on the Ann and Roy Butler bike trail said, “Austin is a far cry from the bohemian, singer-songwriter paradise that it used to be.”
I was reminded of that transformation on Saturday morning as I ran along the Colorado River. The bats chirped from the night before. The University of Texas crew teams were practicing out on the water. On the banks, what felt like hundreds of people ran, biked, and walked. Kids played in a fall baseball league at a nearby park. It made me think of the fitness influencers who have moved to the city, the comedians hoping to follow in Joe Rogan’s footsteps, and the ever-present Robotaxi that combed Austin’s streets. Bohemia couldn’t be further away.
What this trip taught me is that cities are kaleidoscopes. They are land speculators, labor markets, transportation systems, and local economies. All of those are true in certain instances. From a humanist perspective, cities are psychological environments where people must feel safe to be themselves.
Cities ought to encourage wonder and wander. Otherwise, they are just a collection of bricks, steel, and asphalt.
Keep wondering. Keep wandering.