Seriously. Don't Mess With It. It's Pretty Good.

5 December 2009

Del Rio to San Antonio. That's right, the hallowed shrine to those celebrated martyrs to the notion of Texas' independence...Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie, et al. The roofless abandoned Catholic mission church was the last stand in the siege of San Antonio by General Santa Anna. It was preserved by devoted single middle-aged women at the turn of the century, and is open to all free of charge. There's even a box to leave cash in, and old guys with matching blazers prodding you to donate generously. Relics of the holy ones are cased in glass, with tearful Texans gasping in awe. The whole thing is reminiscent of, well, church.

The building itself is pretty, and striking in San Antonio which is really very modern other than this little bit of the 18th century plopped in the centre. Smaller than I expected...but I suspect that perhaps I am a bit cynical by this stage of our little trip. The other big attraction in SA is the Riverwalk, which I first read about in a very trashy Diana Palmer romance novel written circa 1983 (I didn't get to it until a few years later, people, I was only 7) called 'Rawhide Man', and have since seen featured in the cinematic classic Miss Congeniality. It's big and lovely and on warm afternoons, I bet it's great. Loads of restaurants (mainly Mexican chain-style) and pubs, trees and a mall and bridges and beige 1980s brick. But it is unbelievably cold in San Antonio this week, and no one is sitting outside drinking right now.  They're all super excited about snow here, newscasters talking it up, every clerk mentions it gleefully. One can imagine thousands of children thinking they're finally going to get their first ever snowday, and being doomed to disappointment yesterday when about 3 flakes fell. And then laughing at them.

Despite my wanting to huddle up in the warmth of Travelodge, David decided we were off to New Braunfels for Texas dancehall music. New Braunfels is just north of SA, in the heart of German country. Dinner at Oma's Haus, us and about seven 60-year olds scarfing down gorgeous potato pancakes and applesauce and saurkraut and schnitzel in what looked like a 1970s idea of what stylish German restaurants in Texas would be. Kostlich Speisen!


Anyway, after a little carb loading, we're off to Gruene, a little historically preserved village full of the kind of shops that bus tour people descend on in ravening hordes to buy cowboy hats and Christmas ornaments. The heart of this lovely and frightening place is Gruene Hall, the oldest working dance hall in Texas. It's wood floored and wood benches and a big ol' bar and freezing but quite good fun. A band called Reckles Kelly who are established enough to be in iTunes were playing, and an opening act called Buster Jiggs, unfortunately. The girl singer was good, but the only song I could understand the lyrics to was called Pretty White Wings about dead grandmas who become angels and really, it was just a bit more than I could take. In America you don't have to put your own lime in your beer anymore, there are at least 3 brands of lager that come with lime flavour already in them, and enough of these make cold alt-rock-country a brilliant night out.

Yesterday, we drove on up into Hill Country (more like Gentle Slope Country, but after West Texas, I'll allow it). This is the German area previously mentioned--and they're serious about being Teutonic in Fredericksburg. It was founded by off-the-boat krauts in the 1840s, with churches where they spoke the Lingua Germanica until after WWII. They built in stone, are still named things like Schmidt and Werlenger, and founded towns like Bresnau, Vienna, Bergheim, and Luckenbach. This being Saint Nicklaus weekend, yesterday was the Kristkindle markt and parade. The parade (which David very nicely agreed to attend on a frigid cold night) featured the Farm Queens and their courts from at least three counties, an actual Texas Longhorn (wearing a santa hat), several tractor shops' contingents, the high school marching band, and santa's sleigh pulled by firefighters in turnout gear and reindeer hats. Oh, and the Knights of Columbus gave me free hot chocolate. And there's a gigantic glockenspiel (the wooden cone things that spin when you burn candles under them for Christmas, see image of David with it for comparison). I love Texas, even though it is a foreign country.

We ate the freebies at Rustlin' Robs--this is one of the most extensive public tasting rooms in America, I'm told, dedicated to all dips Texan. And jams, sauces, butters, spreads, etc. This is why in America we are all obese.

We saw the museum in the little round church and had an amazing private lecture on the history of the local Germans from the 87-year old Mr Clinton Stork, whose people came on the first boats. As he spoke both English and German, he spent WWII as a translator in the Navy on the USS Tennessee...in the Pacific. Not so much with the German POWs, but he's a great story teller. And only seemed a little shocked that we knew where Mechlenburg is--apparently his audiences generally don't.

Also made it out to Luckenbach Texas, as made famous by Waylon Jennings and WIllie Nelson in the 1978 song. The town has a population of 3, and is home to a dance hall / post office. We fully expected tourist tat and not much else, but chanced upon the free Friday country music picking session...anyone who likes can join in, I think, but the guys playing yesterdays included Bo Porter (also in iTunes), Dale Mayfield (who covered at least two Buffett songs without being asked), a drummer, a harmonica player, and another guy with a great voice who was chewing tobacco the whole time he sang. They played non-stop for hours, stuff like Hank Williams and Alan Jackson and Willie Nelson, in a little room behind the post office that serves as bar, and has a wood-fired stove heating it and loads of locals wearing denim jackets and cowboy hats clustered around. It was fabulous. Chewing tobacco while he sang! Really! Have I mentioned that I love Texas?