Advertisement
Published: December 26th 2006
Edit Blog Post
My trip through the biggest state in the mainland was more about its culture than its sights. The things you notice quickly are the road signs: "Don't mess with Texas: $2000 fine for littering", "DUI: $10,000 fine and 10 years in jail, it just isn't worth it. Don't mess with Texas!". The radio is either rock, country, the religious right on talkback, or Hispanic. The best T-shirt I've seen so far was "Texas: it's bigger than France".
I crossed the state line just outside Clovis New Mexico. A train came past in the other direction. It was at least a kilometre long and was carrying heavy artillery, Humvees, and more tanks than I'd ever seen in one place before. Yesiree, there be guns in Texas.
I got to Amarillo for the night, which lies in the middle of some of the biggest stockyards in Texas. In these stockyards there'd be tens of thousands of heads of cattle, literally packed into fields out to the horizon. The whole town smells of cow. It's also the spiritual home of Route 66; Amarillo is the site of the famous Cadillac sculpture.
From Amarillo I went straight to Dallas-Fort Worth, a pair
of cities that sprawl together to form what Texans call the Metroplex. There's a bit of a routine to arriving in a reasonable sized American city. I look at the map, figure which Interstate feeding the city has the highest chance of the most traffic, and then drive that section once to get an idea where the best value motels are. This usually involves traversing a few major interchanges. Dallas has two five-stack interchanges. These are the fifteen storey high spaghetti junctions you sometimes see on TV. They occupy about ten acres or so. I then drive back down the service roads (these usually total four lanes and feed the generally 8+ lane interstate on either side, like a continuous on/off ramp), and start haggling with the motelliers until I get down below $50 including breakfast and wireless internet.
One interesting thing in Dallas was the heavyset elderly couple at the "Cracker Barrel" steak restaurant who I ate next to that night. The husband talked about the Kangaroos and palm trees in New Zealand and how great a bunch the Freemasons are. He had a 10 metre long RV behind which he was towing his SUV. The SUV was
the runabout for when he made it to his daughter’s place in California.
That is exactly the sum of my tourist achievements in the Metroplex: highways, motels, chain restaurants. I decided it was time to go camping next day as it was 25 celsius and I was all metroplexed out. I camped at Lake Belton, surrounded by Texan Condors who were eying up my barbecued pork dinner. They were some huge birds.
I then drove down to Austin. Austin is the only city I have come across in Texas that you could call compact. And all the benefits that go with that: it has a great tradition as both a party and live music town. I went to about eight live acts in three days there. The best was "The Continental Club" where the Barfields played a western version of James Brown style guitar funk to a really diverse crowd. There were cowboys, a preppy crowd, a roller derby team (in uniform), a really good mix and some great music.
We also saw a live eight piece jazz band with players spanning three generations playing the classics for tips in the underground "Elephant Room". Two eighty-plus gents
in brightly coloured well cut suits and stetson hats sat in the best seats sipping bottomless glasses of whiskey, never placing a single order and tipping generously.
Three nights is long enough in Austin. Another time, I'd spend another three nights there in a flash.
I'm now in suburban Houston for Christmas and a three day siesta with cousin Jacque, her husband Brian and there two adorable daughters Ava and Allegra. Things couldn't be more comfortable - the living is definitely good in Texas.
Tomorrow I start the 2500km burn to New York.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.056s; Tpl: 0.01s; cc: 10; qc: 47; dbt: 0.0345s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb