I was born in New Haven, we moved to Houston when I was 4 or 5, lived in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico for a year, then to Austin; also spent a few years in Denton, and three awful years in Berkeley trying to be a grad student. Also spent several years off-and-on in the country between Bastrop and Elgin in TX; part of a "free school"/commune thingie (yes, it was the late 60's!).
The folks who started it did a few smart things, like hiring relatives of the county sheriff to pour concrete for our bridge. We were, however, something very different- a buncha longhairs of all ages doing god-knows-what in the woods. Some of our various neighbors would come out to visit, and we got to know some of them fairly well. We had white neighbors and black neighbors, and some of each would come by- but never at the same time. So we visited bars on both sides of the tracks (literally) in Bastrop, we were guests of the wonderfully named Rev. Head in Elgin, we went to the rodeo with Bobby Brown (not, so far as I know, related to Zappa's potato-headed protagonist) and got chased out ("We don't 'low no hippies here! Ya'll just hook 'em on out a'hee-ya!" This command is surprisingly effective when given by 40-odd cowboys fiddling with their ropes... Bobby went back later that night and overturned their outhouse, country-boy revenge. Other days, BJ would drive in with a cooler of Pearl and a few watermelons; NOTHING will make you pee more copiously than eating watermelon and drinking beer all afternoon!
Then again, there was the night when Dave L., awakened by his wife, tiptoed out off-trail to discover several gentlemen sneaking up the road, rifles in hand; for lack of a better idea, he snuck up behind them and loudly cleared his throat- they almost jumped outa their skins, and departed hastily. And of course, the frequent visits, at tree-top level, of helicopters from Camp Swift- no doubt hoping to see some a' them nekkid hippy chicks. And the three dirtbike-riding jerks that yours truly (with a small tree over his shoulder) had to run off the property
So which would I prefer? I don't think there's any pat answer now, if there ever was- everybody's old-fangled ways are dissolving, for better and worse, here in the USA. There's no John-Denver-kinda "country" to run away to (unless you're wealthy) anymore, is there? And then there's Detroit... I will say that the place with the most wack-jobs per block was undoubtedly Berkeley, CA. Also the most flagrant a-holes imaginable, a veritable stew-pot of all the a-holes of the world! Or so at least it seemed at the time. But I'd encourage anyone to experience the opposite of whatever it is you're used to, even if it's just the other side of town. Actually, in most cities (here in Madison, WI is a good example), the "other side of town" is probably much further away, in many ways, for us average-white-folks types. So your greatest adventure may be only a bus-ride away...