We left you in El Paso last weekend, preparing to go skiing.  El Paso is a high desert plain, surrounded by mountains on all sides with the Rio Grande river running through the centre and Mexico and New Mexico bordering it.

It was very exciting to see the border running along where the river should be, but both the Mexican and US governments long ago decided to reroute the river into a concrete underground channel as it kept changing course and was proving too hard to manage.  We saw a long wire fence in places – shortly of course to be upgraded to ‘the big, beautiful wall’!  It was very interesting to see the city of Ciudad Juarez on the other side, but not safe enough for tourists to venture in to it. 

We left Reg at a garage as he is still trying to have some warranty issues sorted out – nothing serious and headed for our flight up to Denver.   Packing for a ski holiday in 90 degree heat was a surreal experience and to our horror it did not really get any colder when we arrived in the mountains.  We hoped for an icy wind to greet us as we stepped off the plane, but no it was warm and balmy. 

We stayed in Steamboat Springs which is further away from Denver than Aspen or Vale.  This means that it is not so busy and more of locals’ place. 

At the resort the pastes stood out on the hills, strips of white against the brown of the mountains – odd weather everyone kept saying to us.   They were managing with what they could – but it was ‘spring’ conditions.  This means icy in the morning and slush at lunchtime.  On Friday, we stopped for lunch for about 40 minutes.  We came out and it was like icing sugar as during our lunch the temperature had gone up about 10 degrees. People literally were skiing in shorts and we saw one chap in proper lederhosen complete with an Alpine trilby!

I will not recount how great we were at skiing (yeah right) but we had a good time despite the snow.  Marie and Shaun will know that following Matt on a ski slope is sometimes a challenge… we all still laugh about when he went off the edge one time… but I survived ok.  There were only a few black runs with moguls… Being in the mountains is beautiful regardless and the runs are tree lined and wide, also fairly empty so a good change from Europe.   Matt loves the lifts as they have free tissues whilst you wait – if ever you have to wait. 

We had a good old natter on the lifts.  We met some great people during the week. A couple from Barnstaple at après ski one night, a very wealthy couple from Sydney one day on the lift – which was amusing as Matt said to them that he would never trust an Aussie that did not drink, whereupon the wife said that she was tee total. Whoops! 

Similar ski boot in mouth at a bar when the lovely Kelsey was suggesting some great places for us to visit in Utah, Montana and Arizona.  She had packed a lot into her thirty years – three children, university, loads of travelling hence why she was talking to us.  How were we to know that she worked in a bar yet was a Mormon until the moment we offered her a drink?!

Highlight of the week was also where we stayed.  We had an apartment that was larger than our flat (not that hard I grant you) but it came with all mod cons – including the most amazing washer/dryer set up as only Americans know how to do.  I had barely worn my knickers before I had washed them! 

During the week we had great food – at home and out, which was a welcome surprise and quite a bit to drink.  It was very relaxing not to be driving or planning where to go next so as an experience within this year of travel, it was fantastic and we loved it.

Back on Saturday to El Paso and we had time to kill so we took the transit fast train to downtown Denver.  We heard about their Borough Market – a place called the Source in an old warehouse in the north river district.  Very up and coming – like Omega Works and Bow to those that remember the flats we used to manage there.  Great food and Colorado clearly has the influence of Californians in its tastes and cuisines.

Tough week for everyone at home with the attack in London. We thought of everyone and felt very weird being so far away.  Because of watching the news we saw an awful lot of Trump stuff as he was trying to get his healthcare plan through.  We watched with open mouths how the media cover things and how confusing, cynical and remote the politicians seem to be on all sides. 

Reg was waiting for us in El Paso – hot and dusty.  Back on the road and as I type we are in the Guadalupe Mountains.  No snow here either!!

Having experienced the cities of Texas, Austin being a highlight and one we would recommend to everyone, it was time to get back to the natural beauty of the US.  We were on our way to Big Bend National Park, however it is too far to reach in one day of comfortable driving and we had decided to stop en route at Seminole Canyon a Texas State Park, this turned out to be a great stopover.

Seminole Canyon is named after the black Seminole Indian trackers the US cavalry used on the border with Mexico rather than it being their homeland (don’t get me started on the treatment of the native indigenous population!).  It is a natural feature that runs into the Rio Grande river which forms the border between the US and Mexico, it is also the home of some native Indian rock art dating back over 1,000 years that is still viewable today on the tours the state park put on daily.

After Seminole we drove on to Big Bend National Park in west Texas along US Highway 90, a great road through rugged features alongside a railroad.  In Big Bend we stayed the first two nights in the Rio Grande RV Village, which was basically a car park with electricity, water and a sewage outlet where we were cheek by jowl with the neighbours.

The scenery is amazing at Big Bend, it has buttes (enormous single rock formations standing alone on a plain), mesas (even bigger rock formations that have a plateau on their top), canyons across the plains and a mountain range.  What it doesn’t have, apart from the Rio Grande, is much water so it is officially a desert and in March when we were there it is the driest month and also about 10-15 degrees above average temperature so we topped up our tans and ran the real danger of dehydration if you don’t drink enough water on any hike.  Needless to say we set off with two small bottles of water each on a four hour round trip that was up-hill for the first two of them in sapping heat with little shade.  This was along the Blue Creek Trail and while we thoroughly recommend it as it wove between different geologies as it climbed towards the Chisos mountains, but we would suggest taking more water.  We survived and on return to our campsite decided we would walk to the hot springs, setting out about half an hour before sunset and after about 45 minutes realising that climbing up onto a high plateau on a path strewn with lose rocks might not have been the best idea we’ve had so we backtracked and setup our telescope that we received as a wedding present to look at the amazing night sky.

The next day we needed to move campsite to a primitive one that has no water, electricity and only drop toilets (look them up) so we were off mains completely, however it is in a beautiful setting next to the Rio Grande and with a massive butte overlooking it.  We walked to the ‘border’ which on the US side had a very poorly maintained single line of barbed wire that had been pulled apart by other campers so they could swim in the river.  I would suggest that Donald is going to have a lot of trouble building his wall in the park and if he were to succeed it is going to severely disrupt the local ecosystem as coyotes, bears, javalinas (animals that look like pigs but are not closely related) and other ground animals don’t recognise national borders and use the river for water and cross to and fro between the US and Mexico.

After bagsing our campsite, it’s on a first come first served basis, we set off to do the Mule Ears trail to one of the few springs in the region, again a beautiful walk through varying geology with lizards and frogs with some attractive birds.  After this we went to what is one of the highlights of the park, the St Elena Canyon, absolutely stunningly beautiful where the Rio Grande runs between two enormous cliffs that people canoe and kayak down (again this might be disrupted somewhat by a wall as the river forms the border and most of the water traffic meanders across the border constantly).  One cliff is in Mexico, one in the US but both staggering to behold there is a short walk along the US and in moments of quiet (i.e. when the other tourists are out of sight and hearing) it is one of the most tranquil and inspiring places I’ve ever been.

The next morning, Saturday, we arose early and set off on the 300 mile drive to El Paso, we drove along the Texas state highway 118, which has incredible scenery too but which had the longest road works I’ve ever seen at about 40 miles, within which their popped up a Prada shoe store (I am not making this up, UPDATE: a big thank you to Natalie who has explained that this is a famous artwork, http://www.dazeddigital.com/fashion/article/27039/1/prada-marfa-ten-years-on) in the middle of nowhere that I suspect was a marketing exercise.

Got to El Paso, not much of a city, apart from its across the border from Cuidad Juarez, one of the most violent cities on the planet where a taxi driver said there wasn’t any issue with smuggling or illegals.  I think this might be an attitude that some US politicians disagree with, in any case we’re off skiing of which more next week!

M

Just a little taste for you of how campground owners get rather carried away on their own turf…

They can set their own speed limit for driving around and usually as you would expect it might be 5 mph, 10 mph or even 15 mph.

Not sure if it is a Texan thing but this week we have seen two crackers… 5.5 mph and 7 mph?!!

Any idea what that is about?!!

Sorry for the delay this week -no wifi…

After we said farewell to Helen and Steve we had one more night in Louisiana, at Lake Charles. Nice enough but after so much time in one state we were keen to cross into Texas, a new state for both of us. We gave Reg a good workout as he had been rather idle during all that bead throwing.

Inspired by Glen Campbell we booked to stay in Galveston which is about an hour south of Houston. We drove along the Gulf Coast and already things were going slightly awry as the weather was a bit rainy. We went on the ferry across to the island which was rather good fun as Reg took up so many spaces. We were followed by numerous gulls and pelicans and laughed as the spray came over and soaked everyone on the deck.

We stayed on Galveston Island in a state park – complete change from Louisiana – being back amongst sand dunes. Lovely spot and we walked to a good place on the waterfront for dinner and all was well with the world.
Last Monday we went into downtown Houston and sadly did not spot any Ewing lookalikes or men in Stetsons, but did go to a great bar and the science museum. They also have a cool tram system which we used having walked through the ‘hood’ on the way into town and did not fancy the return leg, after dark with drink inside us!

Next morning disaster struck. One of the large side windows shattered on us. Glass everywhere – and after an hour on the phone we were not sure how easy it was going to be to get mended.

Sadly, it was a complete pain. We wasted two and half days waiting for it to be replaced. A great RV place helped us out in the end, but it was very boring waiting for it to be done.

Reg was not secure so we could not really go or do anything with him whilst we were waiting. We never really knew when this glass was going to come from the glazier to the garage to be fitted so we spent one day optimistically around the corner in the Walmart car park… not ideal. Another day we had to stay in a different site which meant driving through a huge thunderstorm. The hole was blocked up with sheeting, but five minutes down the road it blew off and we had to improvise with some duct tape and bin liners. Reg is normally quite noisy compared to a car, but Reg with a flesh wound was unbearable. We both had headaches wherever we went.

The real low point came when he was still not fixed as the glazier had sent the wrong piece of glass to be tempered and had to cut another bit. It meant another night on Galveston Island, which by now was completely shrouded in sea fog. To add to the sinister nature, I then read that probably twelve thousand people had been killed there in the 1900 hurricane… so many in fact that they had to burn the bodies on the beach in pyres! Charming holiday destination! So, we were very fed up and decided to go to the cinema to cheer ourselves up.

We went to see Hidden Figures – which was great by the way – but it was hilarious as we had to take all our valuables with us. We had laptops, iPads, Kindles and best of all a Go Pro… we could have been prosecuted then and there for piracy! Our luck was so down that we were convinced that someone would climb though the bin liner and clean us out if we left everything behind.

The next day we hung around until we got the call and by 4pm we were at last back on our way. We had timely calls at this point from Mummy and B to make sure that we were ok and not coming back, which was much appreciated. I remarked to both- if this was a film – this is where we would to dig deep and be resilient…but no one can come home because of a broken window!

We had to rejig the sites we had booked, but it ended up well. We arrived on Thursday night in San Antonio. Again an unbelievable storm – rain lashing down but at least this time we were quieter and warmer than last time driving through it.

On Gavin’s recommendation we enjoyed the Riverwalk in San Antonio and of course the Alamo. We did the audio tour and learnt loads about this tragic event. I have never seen the film, but it was a gruesome episode culminating in everyone dying. I do worry that theme of this blog and our trip seems to be death and destruction!! We learnt more about Texas being independent of the US for a time after breaking away from the new Mexican Republic and smiled at the irony that Mexico was the first county to be concerned about immigration along this border. There was a terrible problem with illegal US immigrants at the time. Why did they not think to build a wall?!!

Weather still rubbish, but on Saturday we then drove up to Austin. In a rare bit of timing we arrived in town just as SXSW (South by South West) starts. We even saw the British pavilion and hoped I think to see Steve Lamacq or someone from Radio 1 or 6 Music, but instead the highlight was Greg Hands, one of our ministers doing a speech. We did not attend.

Fantastic city – but cold and wet and everyone had a name badge on except Alex and Matt from London. SXSW is not just bands, but comedy, films and last weekend a fair number of nerds for the tech shows. We sampled way too much beer and saw a few bands along Sixth Street which is where all the action is. Would be a great place to come to again.

On Sunday, we got stuck into the culture. We went to see the capitol building from outside and the Lyndon Baines Johnson presidential library. This was really good and one of our favourites. LBJ did so much on the phone that all the calls were taped. You can listen to him speaking to various people and there was one call between him and Jacqueline Kennedy on November 26th that brought a tear to the eye. He is so tender towards her – they are both clearly so traumatized by events. Quirky things on display – like the speech and menu for the dinner that JFK was meant to make that night in Dallas.

Also, good about LBJ were his connections with our other favs – NASA and civil rights. For instance, when Apollo 8 sent back a picture of Earthrise – LBJ sent a colour photograph to all world leaders – even Ho Chi Minh – who of course at the time was public enemy number 1. Hilarious is that Minh replies (in French of course) – ‘thank you very much’!! Splendid irony too of course that as a white southerner he did do more for civil rights than anyone else. Lots of people making that point – including it seems all the surviving presidents at a special conference a couple of years back, held at the library.

Austin was freezing on Monday morning. Our blood may have thinned as I am sure not as cold as home, but not acceptable weather for being on a trip. So, we headed off west to the sunshine and as I speak we are back on track as it is boiling tonight! Texas has come good.

Difficult week, but we saw some great things in the end. The lows are there to balance the highs I guess.

Our first family have arrived to visit us in New Orleans, this coincides with Mardi Gras which despite meaning Fat Tuesday is the complete season of parades around the city.  We booked into the Fairview-Riverside Louisiana State Park, which I believed was perfect as it is simply a 26 mile drive across Lake Pontchartrain, of course I reckoned without the complete and utter lack of any public transport outside of main US cities so while we can see New Orleans we can’t reach it as Reg isn’t built for small narrow streets.

The only option was to hire cars as it’s too far for any taxi and we can’t use Uber after Alex sued them.  So we first had a Hyundai Elantra and now we have something far more exciting in a Dodge Charger, which despite having a five litre engine isn’t as fun as you’d expect as Alex won’t let me simply scream down the interstates (sigh ….).

Anyway, enough about cars, lets talk about New Orleans, it is a beautiful city, the French Quarter is as attractive as any we’ve seen with fine town houses with balconies and galleries (a gallery has supporting columns).  We took a guided walking tour around the French Quarter to get our bearings and learnt about the Ursuline Convent (Gemma you’ll be pleased to hear it’s very Catholic, i.e. they all go to church with hangovers), we also saw the ‘most haunted house’ in the USA.  This is a mansion owned by a French family in around the 1830’s that had a large fire, when the fire brigade broke into the house to look for survivors they discovered the bodies of seven slaves in various stages of dismemberment chained in a room, consequently the house is said to be haunted by their ghosts.  This story was allegedly disputed by Nicholas Cage (he of the acting fraternity) to one tour group from the balcony of the house, which he owned for a period of time.

On Friday afternoon we went for a walk down Bourbon Street, the main thoroughfare of the French Quarter and the location of many bars.  It was a sunny day and the street was blocked to traffic and quite full of people enjoying the sunshine but more interestingly also standing under the galleries of several bars trying to catch bead necklaces thrown from above by groups of people on the balconies. The best group were a number of ladies, all dressed in vaguely nineteenth century fancy costumes, obviously having a marvellous time with quite a few libations in them, throwing not only beads but bras decorated with beads too.  It is remarkable the number of groups of women dressed up and out to have a good time, although by the end of the evening not too many are still in heels!  As we walked on we were stopped by a cavalcade of police motor cycles and into view came the marching band for Talladega College led by five young guys who proceeded to do a spectacular dance routine with drum major batons, closely followed by the full band blasting out as they marched down the road.

Helen and Steve arrived Saturday night to join us and Andrew and we got to see the downside to Bourbon street when walking back to our hotels, the street was now rammed with large numbers of predominantly drunk people creating an incredible crush with the remnants of bead necklaces, drink containers and a fair amount of vomit across the ground.  Add in a contingent of police on horseback trying to control the crowd and it was quite unappetising.  All enlivened with, on every corner, a bunch of proselytising Christians telling the revellers they should repent otherwise they’ll be damned for eternity.

Sunday we found the better musical district of New Orleans along Frenchmen St where we watched a jazz quartet with a female tap dancing singer doing jazz classics in the Spotted Cat bar, enlivened by an old couple coming into the bar and dancing joyously along to them.  We had a few beers and wandered across to Lafayette Square to enter the grandstand that we booked to watch the Bachus Krewe parade on Sunday evening.  We encountered the horror that our grandstand didn’t possess the bare necessity of a bar, so sent off the girls to hunt down drinks and they returned with a dozen beers and two pints of white wine.  After chatting to a couple in the queue that turned out to be good friends of the lady who ran the Shelby General Store we camped near in Memphis we got into the grandstand and found positions to watch the parade …

OK, so Rio it isn’t, there were thirty-one floats and despite one float decorated as an alligator and one as a whale the big issue is most of them are very similar, i.e. they are trucks with two rows of large white males throwing cheap plastic bead necklaces to the screaming crowds below.  After two or three it all gets a bit too similar for this group of British onlookers.  What did enliven it was the school marching bands between each ‘float’ with varying levels of skills with their instruments and cheerleaders but they were more interesting than the floats and we cheered them on enthusiastically.  We went to the bar of the Waldorf-Astoria afterwards for a post parade wash up which is a very atmospheric bar for late night drinking should you ever be at a loss for where to go late at night in New Orleans.

We left H, Steve and Andy to their own devices for Fat Tuesday (what Mardi Gras means in English) and they promptly told us it was the best day of the festivities with many more people dressed to the nines and several more women with their breasts out.  Alex and I meanwhile spent the day cleaning Reg, doing laundry and grocery shopping, how rock-and-roll can you get?

Wednesday we picked everyone up from their respective hotels and went on a short road-trip along ‘Plantation Road’ which is a strip along the Mississippi of plantation mansions that are open to the public.  We settled on visiting ‘Laura’ as it has the same name as my niece and because it is the best example of a Creole style house.  The history of the sugar plantation is very interesting as it was owned by a French aristocratic family for four generations who owned 400 slaves at one point, then by a German family for one hundred years who believed that electricity was a passing fad.  The tour was led by a young woman Lindie and in the house concentrated on the family and outside concentrated on the slaves.  The saddest part was after the civil war when there must have been so much hope for the now ex-slaves the introduction of share-cropping meant they were almost just as poor and exploited as before.  The point that has weighed on our minds since is that the last four black families were forced off the plantation only in 1977, i.e. when many of us believed that the south was rid of the inherent racism of the region after the civil rights legislation introduced by Lyndon Johnson.

After our tour, we had H, Steve and Andy over for our first guest barbecue and stayover, the heavens opened just as we’d finished eating and Steve and Andy got caught in the downpour and came back looking like drowned rats.  Non-the-less I think they enjoyed their night in Reg, despite Andy’s cough keeping us all awake for much of the night.

On Thursday, Andy returned home and H, Steve, Alex and I went for a road trip in the Dodge Charger (named Jean-Claude as he’s a muscle car) to a small town called St Francisville.  We booked what looked like a lovely B&B on-line to discover that the photos must have been taken shortly after it opened approximately 30 years ago and they haven’t decorated, or cleaned it that deeply, since.  We visited an ante-bellum plantation house called Rosedown, this is an example of a Greek Revival mansion built by a British family, the Turnbulls, (get over that smug feeling of the Brits having ended slavery before the US), the family finally sold the property in 1966.  Beautiful gardens and house, unfortunately again all funded on the exploitation of the black slaves.

Friday we walked around the historical district of St Francisville, very beautiful with an ‘open air market’ that I suspect was the slave market originally before returning to Reg and camping overnight in a Kampgrounds of America campsite near the airport from which H and Steve have just departed for their trip to Mexico.