By Aoife Finneran
Every time I visit the US I find a new interpretation of this vast country’s identity.
But Minnesota is the closest I’ve come to true Americana.
Grab me a root beer and a corn dog, I’m off to hammer up some drywall.
Sure, I’ve fallen headlong into cliché, but there’s a tangible magic in middle America – shopping in the mall, eating cheese curds and Juicy Lucy burgers, being greeted by smiling restaurant staff entreating me to “have a nice day” and of course, Independence Day celebrations.
Packed into the natural amphitheatre that is Normandale Lake, listening to an excellent band and eyeballing a stellar 35-minute fireworks display, I finally experienced America's national holiday through the eyes of locals.
And I loved every magical minute.