Texas

We finally got to leave Memphis on Friday night on what should have been the 2150 Greyhound departure to Fort Worth, Texas, though for reasons best known to the bus company we didn't actually get going until a full hour later.  Though Memphis had been great I think we were both ready to get going again and we were excited about seeing another state and therefore another perspective on this great country. We had to leave our hotel at 1100 so had 10 hours to kill before our advertised departure. In the end we just had a leisurely lunch and made our way to the bus station which is miles out of town. We figured we may as well hang about here as anywhere. Memphis bus station is brand spanking new but what it offers in a clean and safe environment it lacks in comfortable seating. We parked our derrières on one of the metal benches and after about 10 minutes both had a waffle pattern imprinted on our rears from the mesh pattern of metalwork presumably designed to deter ne'er do wells from attempting to spend the night on one. That's all very well Greyhound but think of your fare paying passengers. They have enough to contend with once ensconced on your dilapidated buses so the least you could do is give them a bit of comfort as they await their propelled misery! I ended up putting my pillow under me for a bit of respite and with Kerry being the dainty and slender thing that she is she found that her coat under her would do the trick. At last a use for that coat! After an eternity of waiting, punctuated by a game of chicken crossing the 4-lane highway to go and get some grease-laden pizza, the magical hour of 2150 was upon us and we stood 2nd or 3rd in line eagerly awaiting to board. We stood like lemons for about 20 minutes with Kerry getting more and more vexed with every passing second until I went and asked the lady behind the desk what's was going on. It was another Greyhound clean-up operation and a full hour later we were finally invited to board. Though some ignorant people with no concept of queuing barged in front of us we were still on early and thus had our free pick of the seats. We'd already decided that we didn't wants to be at the back (that's where all the gangsta rap playing, non-stop talking and slightly alarming looking people sit), neither did we want to be on the left side of the bus because that seemed to aggravate my hernia so I picked a pair of seats about a third of the way down the bus on the right. Unfortunately, no sooner had I sat down than I realised that my window seat was broken and though upright it would move to the recline position with the slightest pressure. Conversely, if that slightest pressure was removed it would shoot back into the upright position. Not a total disaster but aggravating nonetheless. To compound matters, just as we were about to depart, joyful that the two seats behind us were free (no snoring, halitosis, inane gabbling or kneeing in the back of us) a huge guy appeared at the luggage hold and stowed a large pack. I just knew he was going to end up behind us and it got more and more obvious as he staggered up the steps carrying an absolutely massive bundle of blankets. It was an hilarious sight really to see this wheezing and puffing mass of material proceed up the gangway but less so as it practically fell into the seats behind us followed by aforementioned halitosis and kneeing in the back of the highest calibre. To be fair to the chap he was a really nice guy. His truck had broken down in st Louis and his company needed to get him to Dallas to pick a new one up but they had overlooked the fact that he was simply too big to travel by public transport. Imagine Giant Haystacks somehow fused with Big Daddy and you're about there. He spent the whole night wedged in behind us with his backside halfway up the seat meaning his breath, and then snoring, was whistling directly into our bay. Despite all this we actually got a fair amount of sleep and I didn't wake until we were rattling into Dallas at about 0630. The skyline of Dallas is very impressive, particularly after the relative earthy feel of New Orleans and Memphis, though Kerry missed this as she was still sparko. We changed buses at Dallas and within 45 minutes we were in Fort Worth, Dallas' country cousin famed for its cowboys and rodeo, the latter the reason we were here. We had a room booked but as it was only about 8am we knew we'd have to skulk around for a few hours before we could get into it so we walked into town and had a slap up breakfast. Once we'd laboured over this for as long as seemed decent and abluted in their facilities we meandered down to the integrated transport centre (ITC) and looked for a bus out to the historic Stockyards district where we were staying. There was an Enterprise Rent-a-car office at the ITC so we waited for him to open at 10am and, with one eye on the next leg of this odyssey, asked him abut the possibility of hiring a suitable vehicle to drive from Texas to Las Vegas on a one-way basis. The guy was very enthusiastic, assured us it would be no problem, that he could get us a Mustang or similar and that I could even get a discount on account of being an employee of FrstGroup. Buoyed by this we caught the bus up to Stockyards and found it, to our surprise, to be a real old style wild west area with saloons and cowboys and trading posts. And lots of tourists. Though it was only 11am we tried to check into the hotel but of course it wasn't ready for us so we left our bags there and went out for a wander. There was lots to see with cowboys, stagecoaches and lots of people dressed up in civil war costumes. They do like to reenact the civil war, I'll say that for the Americans. We got talking to a guy dressed up as a sheriff and once we'd explained, for abut the 15th time since we got to the States, that we were English and not Australian, we had a spot of lunch and went to the hotel. That night was rodeo night and to ensure we got good seats we were literally first inside the "Cowboy Coliseum". 90 minutes later the fun began with a rousing rendition of the Star Spangled Banner as a young lady galloped around the arena carrying an American flag and a quick dedication to all the troops in Afghanistan. There's great pomp and ceremony at every opportunity over here which I find both cringeworthy and admirable. We had the national anthem before the baseball game the other night and now this whereas we only get the national anthem before an international football match in the UK. Where's our national pride gone? There's a real feeling that every individual is part of a great collective here but, if we ever had that, we've lost it. Anyway, the rodeo itself was a hoot. First up were a succession of lunatics attempting to ride bulls who in turn were attempting to remove the irritations from their backs and then kick and trample them to death. We had calf roping, barrel racing (girls riding around barrels as opposed to a barrel v barrel match up) and a couple of interludes where children were invited into the arena to try to catch a sheep or a calf. With each section punctuated by the young lady galloping around carrying the flag of the events sponsors it was, all in all, a fantastic spectacle to behold. Next day was a free day so we intended to mosey into Fort Worth to hire bikes to give us a bit more range. However, on waking up and flicking through a few channels on the tv I realised that we had the Fox soccer channel and that I could therefore watch Man City v QPR. And what a humdinger that was. I appreciate that there are probably some people reading this who couldn't give a monkey's about football but that hour and a half will live long in everyone who saw it's memory and I'm so glad I got to see it.  Now lunch time, we decided that hiring bikes was prohibitively expensive for half a day ($50) so we just wandered about the streets in the boiling heat taking in what little downtown Fort Worth has to offer. That evening, having had a pretty cheap day, we decided to have a blowout meal back at Stockyards and ended up having the most delicious steak imaginable. Whilst the steak was fabulous the jacket potato accompaniment was equally divine and all in all, the meal was the best we've had in these past 4 weeks. Back at the hotel I was talking to the owner who told me her sister lives in Wellingborough. I woke up on Monday with itchy arms and legs suggesting we were sharing with uninvited guests but soon forgot that as we caught the train to Dallas for one of my "must sees". By chance Dealy Plaza, the grassy knoll, the JFK memorial and the old Texas Book Depository are all within spitting distance of the station so within minutes of disembarking I was standing on the historic sight where JFK was shot. I'm fascinated by this and all the "ifs, buts and maybes" so found it a very powerful experience to see it in the flesh. Perhaps sensing my enthusiasm a street trader managed to flog me an 8 page newspaper showing photographs and other 'evidence' to suggest there was more to it than the US government would have us believe and, surprisingly, the museum deals with all possibilities in a very open manner. That the museum is sited in the old book depository means you get to stand in the very window from where Oswald fired. But was he acting alone? Downtown Dallas didn't offer us much apart from the JFK themed stuff. In fact, we have finally worked out that downtown anywhere in the USA doesn't offer much unless you're wearing a suit and work in an office. Even more reason for us to get our hands on a car. We caught the train back to Fort Worth and went to see our chap in the Enterprise office to see what magic he had worked for us. Remember, he enthusiastically said on Saturday that he could source a Mustang and that the price would be discounted for me. At this point I should say that our specific request was for a certain type of car. We didn't want to drive something you could find in the UK, nor anything that a boring old fart would drive. We wanted a muscle car, preferably convertible. This trip is about realising dreams and it is neither of ours dream to drive a Toyota. This all formed part of our brief to the agent on Saturday. So what did he come up with? "I've had trouble finding you a Mustang but I do have a lovely Insignia which I'll do for the same rate". Pah! Insignia schminsignia. Exactly what we were not looking for, a black saloon car that looks like a Mondeo. With the muscle car experience being very high on Kerry's agenda she was unable to refrain from telling Michael exactly what she thought of him and his Insignia. I told her not to worry, that we'd go to the airport tomorrow and find what we were looking for. I had faith in that assertion but if it didn't work out we were up a certain creek without a paddle as we had nothing booked beyond today. That is a great feeling though. To be slap bang in the middle of the USA with 9 months ahead of you and no concrete plan.  It's exactly why I'm dong this in the first place.