Well. At some point I had to break the Southern Hemisphere tradition and stick to the north, and thus travelling in June-Augustish.
And at some point I had to break the Eastern Hemisphere tradition and head west. And thus, USA/CAN, here I come!
The Big Easy. The Sodom and Gomorrah on the Mississipp’. Home of pirates, drunks, and whores. Crummy, lousy, rancid, and rank. New Orleans.
It was hot hot hot and expensive expensive expensive walking the streets of Louisiana’s, and possibly Americas, party capitol. Drinking is not only allowed on the streets, but almost encouraged. And so it was, that many too many bucks were spent on Abitas, Hurricanes, Seabreezes and Handgrenades before finally catching a taxi back.
And all that jazz.
The Riverwalk in San Antonio is a pleasant one, at nighttime bustling with life with restaurants, pubs and cafés covering the semi-submerged riverbanks. A steak is a must in the cattle state, and also karaoke seemed to be on the agenda. The entire group made an effort with Livin’ on a Prayer, followed by me covering Bohemian Rhapsody to cheers and applause from the rest.
Deep deep deep underground lie the Carlsbad Caverns. Stalagmites and stalactites intersect majestic cave halls and offer a refreshing cool contrast to the pressuring heat of Texas. And where there are caves, there are bats. The up to a million bats emerging simultaneously from a cave opening at sunset is supposedly a remarkable sight. I had half expected to see something similar to the smoke monster in Lost, but no such effect was to be found. Big ouverture, small show.
Apparantly there’s a New Mexico now, as Monty Burns would put it. The state’s capitol Santa Fe was visited, along with it’s interesting architecture of claywork.
Capitol though it may be, Santa Fe is not the most famous town in New Mexico. That would be Roswell, and whether the 1947 landing occurred or not, the aliens are everywhere in this small military town. In the form of plastic mugs, fridge magnets, guitar picks and t-shirt, to name a few.
