In the dime stores and bus stations, people talk of situations, read books, repeat quotations, draw conclusions on the wall. Some speak of the future,
my love she speaks softly, she knows there’s no success like failure, and that failure’s no success at all.

— Bob Dylan (Love Minus Zero/No Limit)

Tuesday 21 May 2013

Day Twenty-Two: Barton Springs, The Great Gatsby, And A Night in Austin

I said my goodbyes to Tim who was leaving for Las Vegas and decided to head down to Barton Springs, a natural spring outside of town. Looking at the map, the distance didn't seem to long so I didn't bother with public transport. Mistake. It was at least 35* and a good hours walk. At least the walk was picturesque, walking along Ladybird lake and passed the Congress Bridge underneath which millions of bats live. It is one thing I have noticed about America, that there is a lot more park space owing to the sheer size of the country. When I eventually did make it to the spring, several pounds lighter due to water loss, I was slightly disappointed. This was probably not entirely due to the spring, as it was pretty enough, but due to the fact that I didn't have any swimming trunks or towel. It probably would have been a good cure for my grumpiness.

I walked (I clearly hadn't learned my lesson) back towards town but I stopped off for lunch in the Shady Grove restaurant, recommended to me by Tim. I sat on a table directly facing the industrial-sized air conditioners and ordered a large ice-tea. The waitress told me it was the coldest table in the restaurant and that I could move if I wanted. I didn't. It wasn't cold enough. For my delicate rose skin, anything over 20* is unacceptable. I wouldn't be lying if I said i was either verbally or mentally complaining about the heat every 20 seconds for 2 weeks. To eat I ordered the days special, a chicken, bacon, avocado, salad and olive tapenade sandwich. When it comes to food in America, I have the same thought process. My favourite food are burgers so I always look towards ordering them, but then my traveller self says I should try different things, be adventurous, eat local food. However, I then think to myself, I am a connoisseur of burgers, what happens if this is the best burger in the world and I miss it! I never would forgive myself. So in always order the burger. And by god, was it worth it. I won't forget that one in a hurry.

After all the walking, I felt fairly tired so I decided to mentally relax a little, and I went to the cinema and caught a 3-D screening of The Great Gatsby. Overall I thought it was a good film, well worth a watch. The acting, particularly Leo and the stunning Carey Mulligan was outstanding. I did however feel that the party scenes were too extravagant, which made it more of a film about the visual, rather than the content. I do have to admit that it is a long time since I have read the book but I feel that the character development was lacking (although to be fair, that is hard to achieve in a medium as short as film). Despite this I did enjoy it and I look forward to reading the book again as soon as I have finished 'The Brothers Karamazov' by Fyodor Dostoevsky (if its anything like 'Crime and Punishment', one of my favourite books, I don't think I will be disappointed).

In the evening the hostel had organised a bar-crawl which I thought would be perfect to tag along to as I could meet more people from the hostel as well as getting the low-down of the best places to drink in Austin. In all there were about 12 of us, a mix of many nationalities (English, Australian, Danish, German, Turkish, Argentinian, and American). Over the course of the night I got chatting to a lot of them. Special mention to Erasmus, a Dane, for our conversations on tennis; Alistair, a Brit, for our mutual drink-buying (I had met him in New Orleans originally); and Charlie, another Brit, for her talks on ship-selling (and her looks). After some drinking and a few games of table-tennis we headed to a '60s club for some dancing to the Beatles. I tried to get the DJ to play some Velvet-Underground bunt apparently this isn't good dance music. I was angry at the time, but he was probably right. Eventually we ended up a bar called the 'White Horse' to listen to 'The Best Country Band In Texas'. After convincing a Texan girl to give me some dancing lessons (in which I thoroughly embarrassed not only myself, but the whole nation) I headed back to the hostel.

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