Cop: (stern Texan drawl) "Goddamnit, Sir, how would you like it if I urinated on Buckin'-ham Palace?"
Ozzy: (sozzled Brummie mumble, still pissing) "I wouldn't give a s**t, mate."
From an English perspective, it's amusing how Americans get excited about things being a mere one or two hundred years old. In my blessed hometown of Sunderland, there's a church that was built in 674AD. In York, there are pub toilets containing dinosaur footprints. "There can be no true beauty without decay," as Uncle Monty once said.
I'd actually forgotten about the Alamo until I chanced upon it, wandering around downtown. It's funny how you can encounter notable places without even looking for them. Much earlier in this trip, heading north-west through New Hampshire on the way to the Hill Farmstead brewery, I found myself in Bretton Woods, which is where the post-war global economic settlement - the IMF, the World Bank, and all the rest of it - was cooked up by the Allies in 1944. Similarly, on a sunny day in Washington DC, I walked past a bland-looking hotel and I only just happened by chance to notice the name over the door. It was the Watergate. And I've also had an unexpected spell of walking the Appalachian Trail: Harpers Ferry in West Virginia is one of the few towns which the trail passes straight through.
On an even less interesting note, I've belatedly discovered that there are four places in the USA called Sunderland, and that already on this trip I've been within ten miles of three of them without even knowing it. (Vermont, Maryland and Massachusetts). The fourth is in Portland, Oregon: it's right next to the airport from which I flew to San Francisco last year. Talk about missed photo opportunities.
So anyway. Where was I? More to the point, where am I? Oh yes, San Antonio. The downtown area is small and sleepy. It's a very big city population-wise, but most of that is placid suburban sprawl. Tough-looking Latino types and white guys in flannel shirts cruise beat-up old pickup trucks along wide empty streets; dogs snarl at you from behind wire mesh fences. My motel room has a distinct tinge of 1970s brown-ness about it. Those of you who've seen 'No Country For Old Men' will understand why I've been having occasional nightmares about dodgy haircuts and compressed air.
Overall my three favourite states are Colorado and Utah (which are uniformly wonderful) and California (which has some manky bits but more than makes up for it with the good bits). Texas is pretty much up there with them: see my previous visits to El Paso, Austin, Houston and the Big Bend National Park. And more Texas is to come in the next blog. I'm still not going home yet.
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| Downtown San Antonio |
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| San Fernando Cathedral |
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| The Alamo |
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| San Antonio Riverwalk |
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| Out on the Riverwalk a few miles to the north: a rattlesnake. Dead, and with its head bitten off, by assailants unknown. |
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| Edd vs Fast Food #14 Little Caesars The only mass-market budget pizza chain that I know of. For just $6.75 you get an unspectacular but edible 16-inch pepperoni. Those of you with kids may wish to keep this option in mind next time you're in the USA. One pizza like this will incur silence and sleep in at least two rugrats. |
