Fort she's-Worth-it to Okla-homeboy. Burnin' up Route 66 – Road Trip from Fort Worth down Route 66 via Oklahoma

This post covers our endeavour into a whole new type of America. It is what I want to – probably wrongly – call the beginning of our 'far west' adventure. 'Cowboy country', as it were. These few days follow us heading out of Texas into Oklahoma, joining onto the world-famous Route 66, and heading towards the Pacific coast. The change of scenery is crazy, and the sudden scarcity of life and industry almost instant.

But first, we had to say goodbye to Texas properly. And what better way than a student house party? Ben's friend from home, Sam (hi Sam), studies and sprints at TCU, in Fort Worth, and kindly let us spend a couple days with him. On arrival we went straight to a Hawaiin themed house party, put on by the TCU swimming team. Bikinis, swim shorts, beer pong, punch, volley ball, sun, multi-coloured vomit… everything you'd expect from the movies was there (also, thanks Sam for organising my first ever body-shot. Ben also appreciates the shot of Everclear).

Most of all, though, it was of course great to meet some cool people, particularly the fellow Brits (hi Mitch and Adam). Later that evening we, and most of the rest of the party, went to a bar called Bottom and continued the festivities there. The house cocktail (Pollywag? Pollywog? Polly…something?) made sure dehydration wasn't an issue. 

The next morning Sam and the guys showed us some of the top attractions that Fort Worth has to offer: IHOP and Staples, both of which were fantastic (the football stadium wasn't bad either).

We drove north of Fort Worth towards Oklahoma, a state I've not heard much about except that there's not a lot to tell about it. On crossing the state line two things were instantly noticeable. Firstly, there's nothing there. Secondly, there's nothing there except loads of dead armadillo. 

That evening we stayed in a Walmart in one of the few towns we came across, Lawton. The highlight of the day was watching Pirates (the Aardman film) in the RV, which, by the way, is bloody brilliant.

The next day we intended on driving to Clinton and beginning our journey down Route 66. However, on the way, we passed signs for the Wichita Wildlife Refuge, and thought we'd take a look. It turned out we had nearly bypassed some of the most breathtaking scenery we've come across this whole trip.

We spent most of the day driving around the almost deserted National Park, pulling up, exploring, taking photos and laughing at buffalo. The amazing weather only complimented this, no doubt very obvious, find. It had a real feel of the Old West. Desolate open plains, dissected by the veins of rivers and creeks; rocky mountains hiding belligerent Indian tribes (we assumed); John Wayne setting up camp (again, we assumed)…

Due to this slight detour, we didn't progress as far as we had originally planned that day. But this wasn't a problem. We stayed in another Walmart in Weatherford, just east of Clinton, intending to advance onto Route 66 the next day.

On the way to Weatherford, we passed through a quaint, old town called Cordell. It had a nice town hall situated in the centre of the square, surrounded by small shops and cafes. The only problem was that EVERYTHING was closed. We saw a total of about one person the entire time we were there. Eventually, we found a pizza place and, feeling in an exotic mood, got some pizza from there.

The Route 66 museum is in Clinton, Oklahoma, and we thought this would be the best place to start our morning. It was exactly what you'd expect, and this was by no means a bad thing. Hundreds of signs, photos and cars from throughout the past century were collected together in a domineering display, celebrating the history of the famous road. The gift shop was second to none.

Driving continuously down Route 66 can be quite tricky. Over time, it has been split up into a few separate roads, and isn't brilliantly signposted. But we did our best, staying on it for the entire several-hundred-mile journey towards Albuquerque, New Mexico (but I'm getting waaaaay ahead of myself). 

Every stretch of Route 66 is littered with quirky shops, art installations and truck stops, all clinging to their historic relationship with the Route and its users. Towns such as Shamrock, Clinton and McClean seemed like they owe their continued existence to the legacy of the now obsolete road.

McClean, back into Texas, was home to somewhere very special to me. Somewhere I have been planning to visit since the very week I thought up the idea for this trip: the Devil's Rope Barbed Wire Museum. 

Most people would question why I was so intent on visiting such a place. But it is due to the niche, pointlessness of the museum's whole existence that I was so keen to go there. I love crap like this! And nowhere in the whole world could house something like this other than the United States of America. Having now visited, I must say it was surprisingly concise, with an unbelievably broad number of exhibits. Whether you're a wire enthusiast, or just a casual fan of fencing, I couldn't recommend the Devil's Rope Barbed Wire Museum enough.

The past few days were a great example of what I was hoping to get out of this trip. Get drunk with some randomers, accidentally stumble upon some buffalo, drive for miles down the most famous road in the world, before stopping off to stare at some barbed wire for an hour. What more could a man want from three months of his life?

A WILD VIDEO APPEARED: 

Houston, We Have a Blog Post – Road Trip from Galveston to Austin via Houston

It's been a long time since the last post. There is so much to catch up on, and so much to explain. Once again, as seems to be the norm with these posts now, I am hereby promising to keep this one as short as possible! Quite how successful I am going to be at this remains to be seen, but fitting 3 Texan cities into a couple of paragraphs is going to be hard.

To begin with, a word of advice. If you ever plan on visiting a new town or city that may have been hit by a hurricane sometime in recent memory, be sure to read reviews of said place from both before AND after the storm. 

Galveston never really picked itself up in the same way that cities such as New Orleans did. Me and Ben bandied along, assuming we'd be met by a busy, fun-loving, seaside resort. What we actually came across was a depressed, grey dwelling with about as much charm as a primary school recorder performance. 

The day in Galveston was spent being underwhelmed. Sadly, in the end, it probably gets the award for "Worst Place We've Been So Far," which is especially notable considering we'd just spent the night in the "Second Saddest Place to Live in the US" (Beaumont, which we actually quite liked).

3rd April

The next day we drove from Galveston to a KOA in Baytown, just outside of Houston. The drive was noticeably ugly, passing nothing but industrial plants and other highways. However, the unspectacularness of the drive just made the scenic site of the campsite even more striking. Situated on a lake I've forgotten the name of, the whole day was spent just making ourselves feel better. Laundry, long showers, and an amateur BBQ in the evening meant, whilst forgettable, it was a very comfortable day.

That level of comfort was nothing compared to the next few days, though. Very kindly, a friend of ours, Lauren, offered us to stay with her for a few days (despite the fact I'd only met and spoken to her for half an hour at a gathering of people in Baton Rouge, a few days previously).

As far as Ben and I were concerned we were going to stay in a grimy student flat above a Kebab shop somewhere in the suburbs of Houston. How wrong we were. Katy, where Lauren lived, lay just outside of Houston. It was a picturesque community.

We pulled up at her house and went in to be greeted by one of the nicest families we've ever met. The next few days were bliss. Patty, Lauren's mum, wasn't only the best host in the world, but also a massive football fan (of which there are not many in America, particularly those who support Everton). For the duration of our time in the Lee household there was a footy game on the TV (at one point even Norwich vs Swansea – so we were very happy). Mr Lee also managed to put every British BBQ to shame. 

Ben, Patty, Me

The opportunity to use a proper internet connection was something we couldn't pass up, either. Therefore, we managed to Skype the Mum and speak to her properly for the first time in a month ("Well, I've run out of things to say now" - our Mum).

Both nights we stayed at the Lees' we went out into Houston. We met several of Lauren's friends and went to some really cool bars (shout out to Lucas, Jeff, Matt and Millie for letting us cotch at your place). It was odd because, in Texas, it's illegal to sell alcohol after 2am on weekends (earlier on weekdays), so Texans just get pissed quicker. Once again we got drunk-food from somewhere far too organised and enjoyable to ever be considered feasible in the UK.

After two nights, Ben and I were worried we were going to get too comfortable (we were days from asking for our names to be put on the mail box, and calling Patty 'Mum'). So, for the sake of making progress, we sadly decided we had to pick up and move on. Lauren, Mr and Mrs Lee, Kirsten and Brett thanks so much for some of the most pleasant days we've spent in the USA. It was great getting to know you, it would be great to see you all again (Lauren, you better come to Vegas).

7th April

After a night sleeping in slightly less comfortable surroundings (another Wal-Mart), we spent the day at one of Houston's main attractions, NASA. I went there with the completely ignorant assumption that it may have actually been educational. Instead, most of the day consisted of tram rides, films, and hands-on Angry Birds exhibitions. Not that I was complaining. We got to see the Mission Control room for every US space mission from the 60s until 1992, which includes the Apollo missions. It is now a National Historic site and cannot be tampered with. 

There were, of course, dozens of huge rockets and space shuttles to wander around too. However, all this was nothing in comparison to the grand finale: the gift shop.

That evening we embarked upon the long journey to Austin, taking about four hours or so. Everything takes longer when you're driving the equivalent of an unfortunate student flat around behind you. But it was totally worth it as it meant we arrived that evening in possibly the best city I've been to so far.

8th April

We spent our time in Austin with one of Lauren's friends, Olivia (Hi Olivia), who we'd met in Houston a few days previously. Olivia very kindly let us stay at her house, making going back to sleeping in the RV an even harder ordeal when it came to it. 

Austin really is like no other city I have been to in the US. I got a real soft spot for it as it reminded me so much of Stokes Croft in Bristol. It had a real charm, clinging relentlessly to its rock n roll image and being, to put it bluntly, weird. Ambling down 6th Street was a great way to spend the day. Its concoction of bars and shops unmatched in style, except perhaps by New Orleans. 

The Museum of the Weird, in the back of the Lucky Lizzard store, was one of the best finds of the trip. A collection of oddities and strange things from all over the world (shrunken heads, waxworks, skeletons, and a huge but not to scale King Kong model are just examples). Upstairs we got shown the actual flat that Johnny Depp and the Gibby Haynes (of the Butthole Surfers) shared for a short while. At the end, we were treated to a short show from an employee there who put a nail up his nose, hung fish from his eyelids, and trapped his tongue in a mouse trap. All fine entertainment, but with me and Ben as the only people in the audience I felt his time could have maybe been better spent.

The second day in Austin we felt like we needed to do a bit of exercise, so went for a jog around the park. I was quite impressed with how far I managed, but that sense of pride soon wavered after realising we'd become totally lost. 

What was supposed to be a 45 minute run, ended up being a 3.45 hour trek in the boiling sun, with no money or water. The tour of the city was lovely (including the Stevie Ray Vaughan memorial), but once you start considering drinking your own sweat, the novelty of a mini-train ride begins to wear off. Luckily, I was able to text Olivia with the name of the street we were on, and, using her invaluable local knowledge, managed to inform us "Oh, I know there, it's a really pretty area!" We found our own way back.

Stevie Ray Vaughan memorial

10th April

The next day we took it a bit easier and visited the Presidential Library of Lyndon B. Johnson (which was particularly significant for Ben, as LBJ was the notable protagonist of his dissertation). The museum was very biased towards the achievements of LBJ, but, for someone with relatively little knowledge of him as a President, I did leave surprised at how many there were.

Later on, we met with Olivia and her friend Kelsey (guessing it's spelt that way?) and went for a meal at one of the many Mexican restaurants that are becoming more and more frequent as we've started heading west. She also showed us around some other parts of Austin, including Mt. Bonnell, which gave us a great bird's eye view of just how lost we'd gotten the previous day.

Ben and LBJ (from left to right)

Austin is great in that its nightlife, from what I gathered, is centred around live music. As we worked our way down 6th Street, both the days and nights we were there, there was always a band on somewhere.

I also loved Austin because it's probably the place that has most in common with Britain socially and politically. I felt comfortable discussing certain things there that I wouldn't dare to have done in other parts of Texas for fear of 'offending people' (which is something else we need to talk about, America). On leaving the city, I mentally concluded that, of the places I've visited so far, Austin is the place I would most like to live (don't worry Olivia, it's probably not going to happen).

To end, I thought I'd make a few summation points about the trip. For those interested (which, let's face it, stretches no further than me and Mum, (Hi Mum!)), we've travelled just under 3,000miles at the time of writing (14th April); passing through 16 states (NY, NJ, DE, PA,  MD, VA, WV, NC, SC, GA, AL, FL, MS, LA, TX, OK, respectively).

When I look back at my time spent here, there's one question that really sticks out to me: why are there so many mattress shops?

THE VIDEO EXTRAVAGANZA:

Reaching Nirvana in Louisiana – Road Trip from New Orleans to Beaumont, Texas via Baton Rouge

New Orleans was, from since I started planning this trip, the place I was probably looking forward to more than anything else. I had no idea what to expect, except somewhere very different from anywhere else. This assumption was not incorrect. Our first night's experience probably doesn't quite do the place justice. Following the five-to-six hour journey from Gulf Shores to New Orleans, Ben, Morgan and I felt more like sleeping than anything else. As a result, our first evening in New Orleans was spent watching Skyfall in the car park of a Wal-Mart.

Our second day was a major improvement! We drove to a KOA in the morning, situated in the city itself. It was probably the best KOA so far. Busy, pretty, well located, and the woman on the desk gave me a free toffee apple. 

We made our way to Bourbon Street as soon as possible. It seemed almost too cliche, but there was no way I could go to New Orleans and not go to Bourbon Street. It was like another world. Every building was either a bar or a souvenir shop, filled to the top with Venetian masks, beads, and things shaped like penises.

   

Every bar had something going on. The first had an outgoing woman forcing people into karaoke; the second a dad-rock covers band; the third a jazz-rock band; the fourth a soft jazz fivesome (Louis Armstrong cover inc.); the fifth a blues/RnB band…. the list goes on.

The atmosphere on Bourbon Street is one of a chilled out, joy-seeking carnage, spurred on by the 'Buy 1, Get 2 free' drinks deal nearly all the bars employ in the area (and the fact you can take your drink from one bar, onto the street, and into another). 

One of the best moments was when we were sat in the Funky Pirate enjoying a performance of Hey Joe, as the USA vs Mexico game was on one TV, and Batman Returns was being played on a big screen on the opposite wall.

   

That day, we wandered around Bourbon street taking in all we could. One bar after the next, we worked our way around. We stopped for something to eat in a seafood restaurant (although Morgan had chicken, in a seafood restaurant, I mean seriously…), and tried not to stick around in one place too long. 

Should you ever venture to Bourbon Street, be sure to try the signature cocktail of several bars there: the Hand Grenade. For the life of me, I cannot tell you what was in it. But, like normal hand-grenades, it was both fruity as well as deadly. Don't have one and expect to achieve much afterward. It was this that signalled the end of our evening, and an incredibly uncomfortable following morning.

   

Morgan left the next day, embarking, impressively, on her 11-hour drive back to Charlotte in probably not the best of states. (It's here I'll say cheers for being great company, Morgan, and I'll see you in the UK… right?). While Morgan's day may not have achieved too much, ours can only have achieved less. The one memory I have was having a shower. 

28th March 
Back to Wal-Mart, we spent the day in Starbucks. Ben wasn't too keen on leaving the RV as his sunburn was peeling more than a Prisoner-of-War on kitchen duty. However, I eventually managed to persuade him to man up and come out to see what Frenchmen Street was like. 

Every local we met on Bourbon Street told us we had to go to Frenchmen Street, and I wanted to know what all the fuss was about. It was basically the local hang-out (although, as a result of its reputation, is increasingly being invaded by pesky tourists, us not included). It's where we were told the 'reeeeeal' jazz was, and this was something I just had to see. 

We hopped out the cab around 9pm and the place was just as alive as Bourbon Street. A mobile, brass band played bombastic tunes from the curb, as market stalls continued to sell their crafts late into the night, illuminated by the surrounding fairy lights.

We mooched into the Spotted Cat (the first bar we came across), and were met by a smooth jazz trio who serenaded us calmly the whole time we were in there. We enjoyed a good mix of beer here, including me finally getting to try a Pabst Blue Ribbon (the notoriously Hipster beer, which, accordingly, got me laughed at from the girl on the bar). 

As seems the norm with bartenders in America, we became quite friendly with the girl serving us, Lady Robin. She finished her shift at 10 and offered to show us around Frenchmen St. (although not before stopping off at her place first to walk the dog). She, and several of her friends, made us very welcome in the many bars we visited that evening. Every one of them with live music, and every act we saw being pretty damn good at worst. There really is nowhere quite like it in England. Scrap that, there's nowhere quite like it in the World (from my limited experience). 

The evening ended at about 3.30am with me and Ben buying a steak sandwich from a guy called Joe who'd set up a BBQ on the street, then collapsing into a cab to go back to the RV. New Orleans, I will come back to you. 

Having listened to the bore-fest that was the Norwich v Wigan game, we jumped straight into the RV to drive to Baton Rouge in search of a way to forget the result. The answer came as we pulled up at a Wal-Mart and were greeted by Derek, the car park security officer, who turned out to be most accommodating ("you gotta go Twin Peaks, puts Hooters to shame").

We met some great people in Baton Rouge (shout out to Karen, Ben and Broc), including one I'd already met: a friend of a friend, Sonia. She showed us a decent bar and took us to a gathering at her uni friends' flat. 

Thanks Sonia for being a great host. Not only do I appreciate the introduction to Mike the Tiger (an ACTUAL TIGER), but also you really introducing us to the concept of 24hr America. At about 4.30am we went into a diner, were seated, handed a menu, and promptly served up a full meal. I hate to say it, but it really makes the early morning kebabs and fried chicken in the UK seem a tiny bit less sophisticated. (£5 pizza deal at Kebab-U-Like, Bristol, not included). 

So little happened the next day, I shall leave it at this.

1st April 

1st April marked one month since Ben and I set out on this trip, and it was awesome. We drove out of Louisiana towards Texas down Interstate 10 and across the Atchafalaya Swamp, which was ah-maaaaaaaaay-zing. A beautifully sunny day, bombing it down the Interstate on an 18-mile bridge over miles of green, salubrious, otherwise untouched undergrowth, was an unforgettable experience. We pulled off at the visitor centre and wandered through a tiny, empty museum about the area. It was kitted out in the sort of terrible, but hilarious, moving exhibits you see in The Simpsons.

   

An excursion to Lake Martin wasn't in the original plan, but the nice lady at the visitor centre said we had to go, so we did (old nice ladies know best). It was essentially just more swamp, but with loads of wildlife (or should I say "critters"), and one of the best places for us to see an alligator ("gator").

We jumped out the RV and walked along the boardwalk appreciating nature's attempt to be pretty. Our enjoyment of the boardwalk was maybe slightly scuppered by a massive bee that appeared halfway along (everything IS bigger in America!). Ashamedly to say, the bee proved too much to handle and we turned back. 

 

We spent the night in what has been called the "Second Saddest Place to Live in America." I feel this was a bit mean as we had a great time. A rack of ribs, a couple Buds in an Applebee's, and some casual racism from the waiter warning about the dangers of "the black people in Houston..." what more could you want from a day?

Louisiana proved itself to, probably, be my favourite state so far on this trip. It's a shame to be leaving it behind, but there are other Wal-Mart employees to befriend! As per, there's a video re-enactment of this text below. David Attenborough impression included.