Dallas, New Orleans, Austin and San Antonio. I’ve covered a fair bit of ground since my last blog. There’s so much to tell, but in the interests of brevity, I’ll just give you some highlights. It will still take ages.
Firstly Dallas. It’s my second visit to Dallas but I’m still fascinated by it. Dallas epitomises the thing Texas is particularly famous for, namely, that everything is bigger. Hats, belt buckles, hair, food portions, roads and cars. It’s all bigger here. Tease it to Jesus is apparently the instruction one gives to hairdressers to get Texas-sized hair (although allegedly large hair is not fashionable, at least amongst hairdressers). Unless you are talking about hair fountaining skywards, Jesus’ name can only be used in praise at all other times. Same goes for the Georges Bush (or is that George Bushes?). This is definitely a Republican State, as the billboards declaring Obama to be a socialist confirm. Texans are nothing if not polite but you will know when you have said something socialist. The air gets a distinct chill, which given it has been over 104 (that’s 40 for celcius users) for more than 40 days, might not be a bad thing. Then again, it is a State with high gun ownership so perhaps not...
It’s a funny ol’ place, is Texas. People here are friendly beyond measure and quite charming. Everything takes me ages to do because everyone wants to chat. The minute I open my mouth, whatever business is being done is suspended in favour of hearing all about me. If one had an ego, it would be well-stroked here.
One thing I have to mention about Dallas is the roads. A road may be a road by any other name but not in Texas. Leaving aside the President George Bush Turnpike (which needs no further descriptors to garner a wry giggle), the various Parkways, Highways, Interstates etc are fascinating in themselves. My favourite image of Dallas is the multi-storey roads which remind me of a scene out of the Jetsons where little futuristic put-puts whizz by each other on skyways (see how I did that? Sky + highway = skyway. I would like the first one named after me please.) The roads in Dallas look much the same. It’s quite a thrill to drive here - even though the roads are very well designed and easy to follow, my brain can’t help but trigger an adrenalin rush when it registers five levels of road to navigate at break-neck speed in a large conveyance that here passes for a car but anywhere else would be labelled a truck at least, and possibly a road train.
I left Texas for a few days to visit New Orleans in the fine Southern State of Louisiana. In case I thought it was hot in the desert or Dallas, New Orleans brought some more heat to the party and threw in high humidity for good measure. Now I know why August is low season. Unbearable is not an unreasonable word to use to describe their weather and I’m still sweating just thinking about it. Nay, not just sweating, I feel quite faint at the thought. Have I convinced you it’s really, really, every-swear-word-you’ve-got hot? However hot you think it was, double it and add a baker’s dozen. Now you’re close. And now you should be sharply drawing in breath in awe as I tell you that despite the heat, we powered on and sight-saw all day.
During our modest 2-day stay, we:
- cruised down the Mississippi on the only steam-powered paddle-steamer left on the river (called the Natchez). Here’s an interesting fact about the Mighty Mississippi - at Algiers Point, the river is 214 feet deep due to the volume of water coming down river and scouring the bottom. As we say in the business, that’s a bloody lot of water;
- explored the French Quarter by foot and by mule and cart. They use mules because they are more heat-tolerant than horses. Interesting fact about mules - they are sterile. You can only get one by crossing a female horse and a male donkey. This is the way you get the best of both animals (never mind the logistics). Do it the other way and you'll get the worst. I’m still wondering who was the first person to cross the species, why and what would happen if you threw a zebra into the mix. I need some gainful tasks or these are the types of thoughts that occupy my mind;
- drank hurricanes (4 oz of alcohol in each one) and Voodoo Daquiris (presumably the unholy purple colour came from the blood of virgin chickens or something of that ilk);
- cruised the Bayou and fed marshmallows to alligators. It turns out, ‘gators are really quite cute. I was a bit worried we were creating a generation of diabetic gators but the guides assured us the mallows are mostly air and therefore fine. (Shame I don’t like marshmallows or this would be an excellent way to sneak dessert into the diet.) There was lots of animalia in the swamp and I must admit that apart from the heat, it was a beautiful place. Still, we did pass houses that looked like banjos might duel there so I don’t think it’s a place I’d choose for residential purposes;
- saw the famed above-ground grave yards of New Orleans. They have to intern bodies above ground because the water table is so high here. In the good old days before they understood such things, Uncle Merv used to float up and out of his grave every time it drizzled.
- visited the Louisiana State Museum which was enormous and held a range of fascinating displays about the State. Best museum I’ve been too ever (or at least thus far).
Now we can’t talk about New Orleans without mentioning Katrina. She has left an extraordinary mark on this city. While the French Quarter itself was spared (being a whole 9 feet above sea-level), the rest of the city was not so lucky. One can’t help but be slightly judgmental about the wisdom of building a large city on a floodplain that lies well below sea level and has a groundwater table about a foot below the surface. That said, the effect of that storm on the people of this city is pervasive. Everything is measured in terms of pre-and post Katrina. For these people, that storm was an apocalypse and the nightmare continues. As everyone knows the poorer parts of the city are not yet repaired. Indeed, many parts remain flooded. The saddest thing is that it will probably stay that way for a goodly while. The French Quarter continues to live on with a party spirit and tourists know not to go north of Rampart Street (did you know that New Orleans was recently assessed as the fourth most dangerous city on the planet? The first three in that survey were Mogadishu, Juarez (Mexico) and Caracas).
As there is no damage to be seen where the tourists are, there is no external impetus to restore infrastructure or reinvest in poorer suburbs. I have to say that I didn’t really understand the scale of the storm, the destruction or the impacts of the response to it until I visited the Katrina Museum. And there I wept at the pain and with frustration as I saw the worst of what happens when government policies are piecemeal. Hurricanes come and go. As much as we’d like to, we cannot control the weather. But with the environmental and engineering knowledge we have in this modern age there is no excuse for what happened in that city. It should serve as a warning to every government in every town, city and nation.
Continuing with the theme of being a trooper in the face of oppressive heat, we travelled down to Austin and San Antonio. Austin is, quite possibly, the funnest city on Earth. It is famed as the live music capital of the world and it does not disappoint. Once again, I hit Sixth Street and partied a good deal of the night away. Even if it was 111 degrees. In the middle of the night. The most commonly seen slogan on souvenir t-shirts from this city is “keep Austin weird”. Not only does it have more varieties of live music than the jelly belly factory has flavours, it doesn’t take itself very seriously. So a riotously good night listening to any genre of music you fancy is guaranteed. And, unlike New Orleans, it’s perfectly safe. So, if you have a choice between a night out in Bourbon Street (NO) or Sixth Street (AU), take Sixth.
On to San Antonio. Quite possibly the prettiest city in Texas. Admittedly I haven’t seen much of Texas so that’s a pretty big (and very early) call but I’m confident in my assessment. The city has a river running through it which it has interfered with excessively to turn it into an extremely effective flood control system. Indeed, it recently withstood a 1 in 500 year flood. Even better than that, it’s darn attractive. The entire length of the river is a Riverwalk, bordered by trees, with public artworks scattered throughout. The river is a thoroughfare for water taxis and tourist cruises. Off the river walk are a number of public parks which have been designed to maximise public amenity. I know this is nerd alert stuff, but I get super excited when I see a well-designed city. It proves that it can be done. And, what’s even more exciting (I can barely keep from wetting my pants at this point) a lot of the work on the Riverwalk was done in the 1990s. They actually managed to retro-fit a whole heap of flood controls and create a beautiful linear park for everyone to enjoy within an existing, very large city.
San Antonio is also home to the Alamo, source of a level of Texas pride that seems out of proportion to the size of the battle or the level of success achieved (ie, nil). Over 200 men lost in less than 90 minutes, having woken to face a force of thousands. I could never say this out loud to a Texan, but the battle seemed more like foolish bravado than courage to me. Then again, I haven’t seen John Wayne’s iconic movie so perhaps I have missed the glorious point. Or perhaps that chill in the air is suggesting that I am socialist after all. Who knew valuing human life over bricks and mortar made one a socialist? I live and learn.
My time in Texas ends in a couple of days and then I head to Northern California. However, before I go I will return to the Stockyards at Fort Worth and once again sit in a bar with saddles in lieu of bar stools. Once again I will go to the world’s largest Honky Tonk (Billy Bob’s) and dance under the refracted light of the rhinestone saddle suspended above the d-floor. Once again, I will have a drink or five while watching cowboys ride into town and hitch their horses outside their favourite saloon. One just can’t leave Texas without remembering the way the wild west used to be and letting one’s inner cow-girl out for a ride. Yeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaw!!!!
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