the Regeneration of travel
TRAVELING SOLO, NOT ALONE
When Charlotte Simpson’s husband passed away in 2008, she found herself at a loose end. Travel had defined their 31-year marriage, during which they’d visited all 50 states: basking on Hawaiian beaches and feasting on Maryland blue crab. But once her grief tapered, Charlotte, a retired guidance counselor, realized: This may be the end of one journey, but it’s the start of another.
“Traveling alone has forced me to grow a lot,” says Charlotte, whose gentle, lilting voice radiates a natural warmth. “I try to start conversations. I try so many things now whereas, in the past, I would’ve just sat and watched.”
This new approach, Charlotte says, has taught her that to know a place, you’ve got to know the people. When describing cities she’s visited, she sounds like she’s talking about a person. Her favorite place? Salt Lake City. “So kind. It makes my heart do a little leap.”
Encouraged by her daughter, Charlotte started posting her solo adventures on Instagram in 2014. Seven years and seven continents later, her handle, @TravelingBlackWidow, has almost 19,000 followers. Charlotte’s knack for connecting with people transcends the “IRL.” She’s exchanged gifts with Instagram friends from Liberia to Austin, Texas: relationships forged entirely over DMs.
Returning to travel post-pandemic, Charlotte is excited to explore more “second, third and fourth” U.S. cities: urban destinations that rarely make it onto bucket lists. She’s not alone. The burgeoning trend of “regenerative travel”—planning trips that benefit the traveler and the destination—takes pressure off tourist hotspots and directs spending where it matters most. “My focus tends to be what I’m going to get out of a trip,” Charlotte admits. “I’d never thought about travel in terms of giving.”
Though few might consider Buffalo as a regenerative travel destination, for Charlotte, it’s a perfect fit. New York state’s second city, once a textbook example of Rust Belt decline, is enjoying its own new lease on life. “I grew up in a Rust Belt town myself,” Charlotte says. “Rockford, Illinois. Everybody worked in the factories and when they shut down, it was just terrible.”
Her curiosity is piqued by a place freshly transformed from post-industrial slump to bastion of creative cool. She wants to know how Buffalonians have rescued their city, and hopes her trip might bring more tourism dollars to Western New York.
making connections
Buffalo’s nickname, the “City of Good Neighbors,” is apt. Buffalonians hold doors open for one another. They unexpectedly bump into friends and family on the street. (“That’s so Buffalo,” they laugh.) One point of contention? Everyone has an opinion on the city’s best wings, as well as how to eat them (one-handed, crispy and dry; or sauce-drenched with two hands and ten napkins). In any case, if you want to connect with locals, Buffalo is the place.
Being a Marriott Bonvoy member, Charlotte has chosen the Aloft Buffalo Downtown, from Marriott Bonvoy’s portfolio of hotels, as her base. It’s a modern building among historic icons, including the Art Deco Shea’s Theater. In the lobby, Aloft employee and born-and-bred Buffalonian AnnMarie Taft welcomes Charlotte to town.
“Buffalo is so much more than chicken wings,” AnnMarie tells Charlotte, explaining each neighborhood has its own character, and recommending several nearby that show different sides of the city.
During their conversation, Phylicia had revealed something else that struck Charlotte: Buffalo’s West Side is home to 72 languages. Curious to explore more, Charlotte makes her next stop the West Side Bazaar. The food market doubles as an incubator that helps refugees and immigrants “test” business ideas. Local nonprofit and microlender WEDI provides support.
One father-son duo, Akec Aguer and Garang Doar, are in the thick of this learning process; they opened their South Sudanese food stall, the Nile River Restaurant, just two weeks ago. “I’ve been in the U.S since 2003; I was six when we arrived,” Garang tells Charlotte. “I’m very proud to finally see my dad have something of his own.”
Ultimately, the point is for entrepreneurs to move “up and out.” Since 2011, more than 27 “graduates” have done so, opening larger brick-and-mortar or online businesses. Charlotte strikes up conversations around the bazaar—learning how Nadin Yousef, an Iraqi immigrant, has turned her macrame hobby into a business; and how Akec was amazed by the way his Buffalo neighbors all pitched in to clear their street of trees after a storm. “Oh my gosh, they seem so proud of their city,” Charlotte says. “It’s like, everybody’s saying, ‘This is our town. We’ve all got to pitch in and keep it going.’”
LOOKING BACK
While today’s Buffalo is more multicultural than ever, it has long drawn diverse communities, and inspired new beginnings. The city’s African American Heritage Corridor, in the Michigan Street area, captures this crucial part of the city’s story.
At Michigan Street Baptist Church, Charlotte meets Kevin Cottrell: historian and owner of local tour company, Motherland Connextions. “Museums are great, but they’re the result of something gone,” explains Cottrell. “The Michigan Street area is a living, breathing museum.”
Cottrell explains Buffalo was an important station on the Underground Railroad: the last stop before liberty in Canada. The church once served as a sanctuary for fugitive freedom seekers; visitors can still access a crawl space where hideaways took shelter. Peering into this dark crevice, Charlotte is moved to tears.
“Wondering how they must’ve felt as they made this grueling journey, my imagination goes into overload,” she says.
Wondering how they must’ve felt as they made this grueling journey, my imagination goes into overload.
Around the corner, the Colored Musicians Club recalls the histories of seminal Black artists, including Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald, who hung out here after-hours while on tour. Close by, the WUFO radio station, which also houses the nation’s first Black radio history museum, is abuzz with rhythm and blues, gospel and soul.
At the last stop, Cottrell and Simpson stand side-by-side in solemn silence at Broderick Park. Once the terminus of the Underground Railroad, the shores of Ontario seem just within reach: freedom, over the border, must have felt unbearably close.
“I had no idea—we find out so little in our history books,” Charlotte says to Kevin. “We could go to lunch and just talk and talk.”
A NEW CHALLENGE
Next, Charlotte steps out of the city’s past and into its future. On the banks of the Buffalo River, the new RiverWorks complex rises from the ruins of disused grain elevators. Every element of this former industrial epicenter has been repurposed: think towering silos dotted with rock climbing holds.
Charlotte meanders the facility, awed by the breadth of activities. There’s a Ferris wheel and axe-throwing; an arcade and, in winter, an ice-skating rink. There’s even a zipline strung between silos, which Charlotte eyes hesitantly. After some gentle encouragement from RiverWorks staff, she opts to give it a shot. Thirty feet in the air, she leans back and, once again, finds a local ready to guide her. “I cannot step off this platform,” she says to the man behind her. “You just have to shove me.” He obliges, and Charlotte squeals all the way down.
Afterwards, grinning but relieved to be on solid ground, Charlotte beams:
Traveling alone, sometimes I have to do things to stretch myself—even if it’s a little uncomfortable.
a fresh perspective
Back at the hotel, Charlotte reflects on how the connections she’s made immersed her in a city she knew little about before. And it’s reinforced her belief solo traveling doesn’t mean being alone. “I don’t know any strangers,” she laughs.
Plus, this time Charlotte feels she’s contributed something, versus simply taking away experiences and souvenirs. “I hope this makes people add Buffalo to their list,” she says. “And personally, I’m going to make a more serious attempt to really connect with people, and not just be like, ‘Where’s good to eat?’”
Perhaps most striking of all, Charlotte says she’s learned that it’s the people in places like Buffalo that, when they’ve faced setbacks, have built their city back up—taking a strong foundation, reinventing it, and giving it a new lease on life. Charlotte totally relates.
Well, since my husband passed, I have become a lot more, probably adventurous. He would say, "Oh, let's try ziplining." And I'll be like, "Oh, I'll watch you." And so I would sit there and, you know, have a soft drink while he did ziplining or I'd get all the photos and videos of him doing ziplining, or riding a camel, or just anything. But I just didn't feel that I had to do it to have a good time. But now, it's just me. Why not give it a try? I don't want to just watch other people.
My grandfather, he's from Barbados. He was an immigrant. I am a grandchild and daughter of immigrants. He moved here as an entrepreneur, as a carpenter specifically. He actually passed March of 2017, which was also the year that I was transitioning from working as a stay-at- home mom. And we opened up the store on his birthday just in celebration of his life, his legacy. I think that's why it's so important for us to have color here, to represent immigrants, to represent the children of the diaspora — I call them the stolen children, which are African-Americans — and just being able to carry on his legacy.
I met a man from South Sudan and he gave an example of what good neighbors they really are. There was a bad windstorm and he said that trees were all over the street. And shortly after all the trees fell, you look out there and people are out there with a saw. He said nobody knew each other's names or anything. They're just all out there with saws, cutting up these trees and getting them out of the way. I definitely think it's a city of good neighbors and many of the people that I met agree. They had so many examples of how they really are so supportive and encouraging of each other.
I was most touched certainly back at the church. I hadn't really expected to be so overwhelmed. I think just the fact that church was still standing and in good shape after so many years. And then being taken down and to start the tour [and them] showing us this is where people went when they first got here, to sort of settle in, and seeing, you know, that hole. I mean, it was like just a hole in the ground where people stayed. It just, it really moved me.
An activity that sort of surprised me with Buffalo is right here in the middle of a city riverfront area, the part that has just been regenerated and recreated with all the activities down there: the Ferris wheel, the ziplining, the rock climbing and concerts and everything that's going on. To see ziplining among silos and all, and just how the silos have been repurposed. I've just never seen that before. You know, you just think of a silo as being used as a silo, not something that once it's out of use, someone could actually find another use for. And yet they're really part of the landscape and the look of that downtown area.
This city and visiting Buffalo, the people were so excited and tickled that you had come to visit, be it, uh, a little shop over at the West Side Bazaar, or someone's Burmese food shop. There are so many proud entrepreneurs that would love for you to come to their businesses. So many restaurateurs that would love for you to come and try their foods. We don't have to go to New York City. We don't have to go to L.A. There are some cities where you can have an amazing time and get lots of personalized attention, because folks are so glad you're there.
Charlotte starts in Five Points, a growing West Side neighborhood that’s been called Buffalo’s “best-kept secret.” Here, she meets Phylicia Dove, a self-proclaimed “fashion activist” with her own boutique, Black Monarchy. The pair strike up an instant rapport. And when Charlotte asks about the “city of good neighbors” moniker, Phylicia is refreshingly frank.
For many Black and Brown folks in Buffalo, the city represents a hustle and a grind. But, larger, because it’s such an untapped city, it is a springboard for possibilities.
