Friday, 7 August 2009

The Alamo and Dancing Cowboys

I'm writing this entry on a picnic table on school playing fields while most of the rest of the group are swimming in a lake. I got burned to a crisp last time we swam in a lake and have learned my lesson...

Thursday, 6 August 2009

Trek Day 9
This morning we left hot, sweaty Louisiana behind us and entered Texas, the Lone Star State. Instantly everything got bigger; the flags (both in size and frequency); the stores; the distance and the size and warmth of the welcome grew bigger too.

At our very first Texan truck-stop, a kindly old bear of a gentleman asked me cheerily, "What are all you girls doing here from Missouri?" He'd seen the plates on our rented van and assumed we were from there. I explained where we were from and what we were doing and we got chatting. Turns out he had lived in Grays in Essex and also in Kent. Before I knew it I was getting an impromptu history lesson of the local area. Such a sweet, genuine interest what you are doing is a refreshing change from the off-hand way in which British often treat visitors... and the fellow countrymen for that matter.

Driving Clean Across Texas
It's rare for people to drive across Texas and as the road stretched away ahead of us through the second largest US State (second by volume to Alaska and by population to California) it is clear why.

We skirted around Houston, a massive metropolis of impressive skyscrapers and (according to the guidebook, impressive air conditioning too) and headed to San Antonio, city of The Alamo.

On the way into the city, we had a quick pit-stop at the Salvation Army store for essential supplies. More of which later...

Another City. Another Campsite
Campsites are beginning to look a bit samey. Especially as we have often stayed at ones run by the KOA company. Tonight's was relatively close to the City which was good as there were plans afoot.

Pitch tent. Shower. Change clothes. Get back in van. It's a variation on a theme we are getting very used to... but never accustomed to.

A Sneak Preview, Rude Food and Dancing Cowboys
Refreshed, though instantly sweaty again in the 100+ degree heat, we arrived in the centre of San Antonio where we got the chance to walk along the city's Riverwalk. A series of water-side paths, lined with shops, restaurants and ice cream parlours. It was very busy and very commercialised, so I broke away from the group (who had all immediately walked into the first bar they came to) and headed to The Alamo.

This symbol of Texan pride is almost overshadowed by surrounding buildings, but it's history means it retains an air of tranquillity and respect. Only in America would the site of a great defeat be so revered. However, this was just a sneak peak at the outside as the full visit would be the next day.

I rejoined the group at Dick's Last Resort, an American restaurant where the "theme" is sarcasm, rudeness and disrespect. A bit like a Harvester, but by design. Funny hats were produced with smutty innuendos on, napkins hurled around the place and much abrupt banter abounded. It was packed, so I retorted to the waiter by writing on my plain, white paper place-mat, "I like my service like I take sex... long and slow." He seemed to appreciate that.

The Cowboy Dance Hall
After dinner, we headed to the Midnight Rodeo Bar, but it turns out Thursday is their dead night. We had a few drinks (non-alcoholic beverages were free!) and I revealed to the group my Pool skills about which they were duly impressed. After the disappointing quietness there, we drove to the Cowboy Dance Hall, which does exactly what is says on the tin sided building.

Basically it is an industrial unit, a bit like an out of town B&Q done up with wooden facades of a Saloon, store and Sheriffs office etc. plus an entrance to the "Cowboy Dance Hall".

Inside you find a huge dance floor, a triple storey stage set (with live band) and hundreds of Cowboys dancing with their Gals. All around are various bars, some selling everything, some only shots, some just bottles and so on.

The dancing is amazing. When the dance floor was full and the Country Rock band in full swing, the sight of all the couples dancing in the same direction is extraordinary. There's shoelace ties, cowboy boots, denim, vests (waistcoats) and, of course, cowboy hats, swirling around the place like a well organised tornado.

The don't limit themselves to just Country music though. Once the band had finished for the night, the DJ took over and threw in some contemporary and R&B classics. Even I had a dance, much to the surprise of the group who probably didn't realise people can still dance as they approach 40.

It was quite a heady atmosphere, in the club, but not remotely threatening. The rest of my gang didn't get too sozzled and we got back to camp around 2:30 in the morning.

I had a good night.

Stats - Day Thirteen
Distance travelled (as the crow flies) - 316 miles Sam Houston Jones State Park, LA to KOA Campsite, San Antonio, TX
States entered - Texas
State count - 11 + DC

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