Near to the Texas border I see my first vultures in the wild. A gang of four - not of the bald head variety - are dealing with a roadside carcass. Planet in action!
So, Texas is basically massive. I'm crossing it diagonally, bottom-right to top-left, and it is going to take four or five days. I've factored in a couple of nights in Austin - having talked of visiting for SXSW for a long time I figured I should at least pay my respects en route.
After a night near Beaumont, something occurs to me as I head along the freeway through the sprawl of Houston: you get Texans, and you get Californians. But everyone else seems to be from their State, rather than of it. Perhaps it is the fault of the modern media, but I've never heard of an Oregonan, or an Ohioian. Hmm, perhaps it should be two words: Ohio ian. Any Ohio Ian's out there?
To Austin, and the dreamily-placed hostel there. It sits upon the banks of a lake, with the bright lights of downtown piercing the trees in the adjacent park at night. I have decided that smaller hostels win.
There is a certain coldness to the experience in a large hostel; they seem kind of faceless, patrons busy with the myriad city attractions on offer perhaps. Or lost in the facsimile hosteler pub crawls or city tours. In comparison, the smaller hostels have provided markedly different experiences for me; I have found a real sense of community among the guests - and the staff as a matter of fact - which has truly set my time in these places apart from the metropolises. In Boston, D.C. and, now, Austin, people have wanted to share time together, rather than being preoccupied with their own plans.
Quite without the lubrication that alcohol provides, ten of us, from across the globe, sat together for a whole evening finding out about what brought each other there, revelling in the cultural differences, taking the mickey. As it goes, alcohol was one of the subjects we covered. Min, from Korea and in Austin to study, told us of his first experience of alcohol. As a teenager, his father had sat him down and offered him a drink. Showing the utmost respect that his culture demands, Min knelt before his father, took the drink in two hands, and finished it. Then his father gave him another drink. Again, Min swallowed down the drink, maintaining his posture throughout. And so it continued. Because he was not allowed to show any disrespect to his father, he learnt to control himself under the influence of alcohol that night. Compare that to the typical European introduction of teenagers with cider in a park, as proffered by yours truly and by Sarah, the (Spanish/Italian) French student who studies in New Mexico, you can start to see why different cultures gain different reputations. Then there is the American way, where the legal drinking age is set at 21. Being 20, Sarah isn't even allowed to drink in the US, even though she used to buy champagne for her father from the corner shop at the age of 8! It is a strange world in which we live.
Of course, the previous night a number of us were sure to soak up the nightlife in the traditional Saturday-night-in-Austin sense (not dissimilar to a boozy British pub crawl). The main strip is laden with drinking and dancing establishments and the street is thronged until closing time. The thing I can most-closely compare it to is maybe the Friday night of Glastonbury when the bands are finished and everyone is making their way to the Green Fields or the Glade (if they still exist...haven't been for a while!). Real revelry with a lot of talking to strangers going on. Having lost Arizona(n) Matt (relocating from San Francisco), New Hampshire Will (motorcycling round the country) and I struggled to hail a cab come home-time, so were very much indebted to the mother and daughter who, as they walked past, offered us a free lift back to the hostel. Texan hospitality, a beautiful thing at 3 o'clock in the morning. I can't ever imagine the same thing happening in a city in the UK.
The morning after the night before was spent with Will and with Peter, a student in California who originally hails from Singapore. We strolled into the city and found our way to Stubb's, for brunch. If you ever find yourself in Austin on a Sunday, I can't recommend this place highly enough. As we tucked into our all-you-can-eat brunch buffet, we were serenaded by a live gospel band - put your hand in the air if you are Saved!
As I am sure you have gathered by now, I had an awesome time in Austin but, as I pulled away from the hostel in the Purple Nimbus, I felt incredibly downcast. There is something thoroughly depressing about the 36 hour friendships I've made in these smaller hostels, and this has only really been brought home to me after Austin, probably because I spent so much time alone directly beforehand. There is the old adage that you only realise the true value of something when it is gone, and I am thinking, after the last couple of weeks I've had, that there is a degree of folly to what I am undertaking. Not only am I spending all this time apart from all the people that I love, I'm leaving all the new acquaintances behind too, just as friendships start to form.
Maybe I'm not quite getting this travelling lark right, but I'll keep on trying...
Indeed, the night I left Austin I watched a film called Love Life Long. As is my wont, it is kind of a strange film, and has just two characters. The context of their situation is totally different to my spending time in hostels, but one does say to the other: "You are in my world now. And I am in yours."
If I can take that sentiment away from these brief encounters, I think I will have succeeded, no matter what the goal.
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