Charlotte

Charlotte and Tampa are, in my mind, like siblings that grew up in each other’s shadows during the Sunbelt Boom of the 80s and 90s. I’m not convinced either city has quite delivered on the promise of becoming the “next Atlanta” — which I never believed was much of an aspiration. In fact, I’d go as far to say that Atlanta should be the city you aspire not to become.

So, from that perspective, Tampa and Charlotte have both succeeded quite well.

Like most people (who fly USAir and American a lot), my only real exposure to Charlotte was the airport. Nice rocking chairs in the main terminal. Nice margarita bar. Nice moving sidewalks. As hubs go, it doesn’t suck. And, of course, the one terrific thing it has going for it: it’s not Hartsfield-Jackson.

So, I promised myself I’d spend a night in downtown Charlotte to see how it stacked up against Tampa.

Over three decades ago, I moved to Tampa from Buffalo, NY, known affectionately as the City of Good Neighbors. My adopted hometown of Tampa is the City of Good Intentions. We try hard, we do many of the right things, but we’re still that city on the other side of the bay that few tourists bother leaving Clearwater or Indian Rocks or Madiera or St. Pete beaches to explore. Tampa’s biggest tourist attraction is the airport. Which to its credit is, according to people who actually rank these things, consistently among the best in America.

Yes, we have Busch Gardens, a Hard Rock Casino, a fairly nice zoo and the N.Y. Yankees Spring Training complex. And if you prize a freshly hand-rolled cigar and an authentic Cuban sandwich, Ybor City is still a unique treasure.

But when it comes to tourism, we’re running on a very fast, very competitive track in a state with more tourist destinations than anywhere in the world.

Less than 90 minutes away is the town The Mouse built.

Disney and Epcot. SeaWorld. Universal Studios. Kennedy Space Center. And more factory outlet malls than any one city deserves to have.

Orlando is a town with one job. Entertain tourists. Predominantly families with children. And it does it very, very well.

Further down the east coast, there is Ft. Lauderdale and Miami. Less family friendly, but still a go-to spot for Spring Breakers and tourists from around the world. The west coast has the slower-paced, but quietly affluent Ft. Myers, Sarasota, Sanibel, Captiva, Naples and Marco Island. To the north, there is the panhandle, over 200 miles of sugar-white beaches, and all it has to offer. (AKA “The Redneck Riviera.”)

And don’t forget St. Augustine. Daytona. Or Key West.

All of these destinations have one thing in common. They’re not Tampa.

Tampa is what it is. A nice, affordable, relatively safe place to live and work. It has aspired to be more, once calling itself “The Next Great American City.” But now seems content to simply get its infrastructure caught up to the exponential growth it has struggled to accommodate during the past forty years. And enjoy the good life.

To be honest, NOT being a tourist Mecca has it’s advantages.

So, compared to Tampa, how did Charlotte measure up?

To be fair, both cities have their grittier outer cores. And architecturally, as with most Sunbelt cities, you suspect the designers may have been sharing blueprints. Each city has a few daring designs that are either loved or hated, as is the case with Tampa’s “beer can” building. But for the most part, architects in the late 80’s and early 90’s kept their concepts well inside the box.

As for my accommodations, finding a room downtown in Charlotte a week before a big-ass NASCAR event left me few choices. All expensive. But I managed to find a room at one of the most confusing hotels on Earth.

Second ward, southernmost corner of the city. A few blocks from the NASCAR Hall of Fame. Not sure if it was a Sheraton or Le Meridien. Not sure they knew.

They occupied the same building, sort of. Shared the same garage. Never did find the front door. And, evidently, the reason I was able to find a room there was because the whole place was in the midst of being renovated. Couldn’t find the front desk, but received a warm greeting from a team of workers laying new carpeting.

The room was small, but shiny new and very contemporary with all the modcons…including free Wi-Fi…which I came to cherish throughout the rest of my journey.

Once settled, I found my way back to the lobby and asked about must-see restaurants and/or bars downtown within walking distance. After some head-scratching, nobody could come up with any ideas. At least any that didn’t require getting back in the car. This was the home of NASCAR, afterall. They love driving around here.

Fortunately, I was able to connect with Alex’s former roommate at UF, Brad, who picked me up and took me to one of his favorite brew pubs – Heist – just outside the city on N. Davidson. The building was a converted animal hospital. They featured the usual assortment of “exotic” craft brews, all with clever names, that has turned a simple pleasure like drinking beer into a gut-wrenching adventure. The menu was in the gastro pub class, although I opted for the more pedestrian smoked chicken wings. Which were huge. And delicious.

And it was fun catching up with Brad who had followed a job to Tampa after college, hit some career bumps, and was now back in his hometown, doing well, and enjoying life. Evidently he still owned the house he bought in Tampa, which he rented out and turned into a revenue stream. Good for him.

And that, my friends, was Charlotte. In her defense, she has a better highway system than Tampa’s confusing always-under-construction mess. The outer core of the city is ringed by I-485, while I-77/Rt. 74/Rt. 16 combine to encircle the CBD downtown. The result is, you can get where you want to go in a matter of minutes. And, to her credit, the QC (as locals call her) sports an efficient commuter rail system (something Tampa desperately needs) with park-n-ride lots scattered throughout the burbs.

Otherwise, it’s just another Sunbelt city. They all have pretty much the same complement of high-rise buildings with bank logos on them. The skylines are all pretty similar.

Within 12 hours of my arrival to the Queen City, I was off again, in search of mountain air.