Our Lady of Pecans

6 December 2009

From the Gently Rolling Hill Country, next stop Austin. Have heard much about the hipness of said city, and it does seem like a very liveable place, with cafes and markets and people jogging and even some Democrats. Ate at the Salt Lick in Driftwood, 20 miles out of Austin proper, something of an institution in barbecue and which we had been strenuously instructed to try. It's home to an enormous pit (not a grill in Texas, you fool). The ribs were gorgeous, the potato salad remarkable, but the beans were better at Rudy's. The place is more like a park, sprawling buildings and banquet halls and huge tables. Personally, I liked the chain as much and for half the price, but the Salt Lick was pretty good. I think maybe the lesson here is that it's hard to go wrong with BBQ in Texas. BTW—as per the concpet that everything is bigger in Texas? The loo roll holders certainly are.

Spent a morning in the Texas history museum—subtitled 'The Story of Texas,' because even museums don't trust the public to conclude fairly basic concepts on their own. The dumbing down of America is causing me pain—was there a sale on apostrophes? Is that why they are in 8 out of 10 plural words in this country? Lord, it is not that difficult to grasp! Plural words just have an S or possibly an ES, possessive words have an apostrophe and then an S. That's it.              
Right, back to the Story of Texas, which is in a giant building with a giant lone star out front. Everything really is bigger here. The carpet is woven with little Texases (see? No apostrophe!). There are reconstructed dog-trot houses, horse armour, interactive panels that reek of sulfur and teach children how to find oil in the ground (1. look for dome-shaped low hills, 2. smell for sulfur, 3. swamps are a good place to start), and life size Texas longhorn cattle figures. It's a very good museum and only a little OTT.

Outside is the pink state capitol. Which is 15 feet taller than the national one. Almost like they're making a statement there. We did go down to the hip bit of town, drove past the extensive queues of men in skinny jeans and derbys and women in uggs (it was Saturday) and took ourselves to a taco place off the beaten path. Having seen live music both previous days, we opted to continue on out of Austin and leave the legendary music scene to those cooler than ourselves. I know, I know, Austin is amazing. And it's certainly the place I could see myself living most easily in Texas, but organic markets and coffee shops I can have in London or DC...I want evangelicals and beef that's practically still mooing. On this particular trip at least.

Heading south, then, through the BBQ capital of Lockhart (there may be a culinary theme emerging) to stop at Smitty's, which has a 1960s exterior, a dark smoky entrance and a counter with a man chopping chunks of meat by the pound. Bought ourselves dinner to take away, with potato salad and beans and whatnot; wandered the little Christmas street fair (featuring fried snack food in several permutations), and left.

Having been so recently educated, when we sniffed sulfur in the air shortly thereafter and knew we were in oil country. Lo and behold, steel grasshopper-like things scattered about everywhere. These are called nodding-donkeys, sucker-rod pumps, and thirsty birds, and several other less amusing things. Having seen the oil cattle, cowboys, music, Mexicans, and desert, we're feeling pretty well done with Texas. But stopped in Gonzales anyway, home to the first resistance to Mexican rule, when some white guys dared Mexico to reclaim a cannon from their town in the 1830s by making a banner with the motto: Come and Get It. Because how could you not go there?

On the way out, we passed what may be my favourite thing in Texas yet...a roadside shrine to the Virgen Mary. Uh-huh. Seems a farmer got his tractor stuck in the mud, and prayed to her, and it came out. As this is clearly a miracle and not physics or, I don't know, the gas peddle, he's built a shrine and a sign and it's home to our lady of the pecan grove. Again I say, Texas is awesome.

We stayed outside Alvin last night, near Houston, and next to the Nolan Ryan Center, housed in the local college. I don't know what one might do at the Center, but we did take pictures. Then to the Gulf Coast. It's warmer now, and a bit grey, but the Gulf was wild and choppy and beautiful. Huge stretches are completely undeveloped, which is lovely and so unlike other American coastlines. We had miles of it to ourselves. In Galveston (home to the biggest natural disaster in American history when 6000-8000 people drowned in a hurricane in 1900), we hopped the free ferry to Point Bolivar—this is about 20 minutes across the bay, with frolicking pods of porpoises all around the boat, pelicans and plain old gulls everywhere, and such a nice break to a journey. Did I mention free? Or that the boat was called the Dedman?

I think maybe dedman isn't what you want people thinking when they board a ship. Yes?

Headed along the Gulf a bit more, lots of oil refineries and pipes and ships and industrial metal things scattered, and suitable gloomy and grey and a very good drive, all in all. On to Louisiana next...