Fort Worth Day 2 : Stockyards and Rodeo

Up at a responsible hour of 9AM, we packed our knapsacks for a fun-filled, adventure-crammed day of exploration, cultural awakening and good ol fashion honky tonk.

The information lady told us we best get to the StockYards by 10.30AM at the absolute latest, for the  Fort Worth Herd Longhorn Cattle Drive which happens daily at 11.30AM and 4.00PM. We struggled to find the right bus stop with all the roads being worked upon, but figured that if we had got into the city (approximately a mile away from the hotel) in 10minutes, and the Stockyards was only 2miles away (as the infomation lady had told us) we decided it faster to walk than to try and find a bus that we may or may not have missed. This would be our first mistake of the day. Doris at the info booth was obviously confused with distances, however we only realised this when we were already 3miles through our 6mile (10km) hike. We managed to get some lovely views however, of a stream,

 ...A few lonely trees

 And some dilapidated buildings.

 And then we walked...

 And walked...

And walked...

 And then we found a moose which boosted our spirits...

 And then we walked...

AND THEN SUDDENLY WE WERE THERE!! :D

Naturally we missed the Cattle Drive, but all frustration dissipated when my eyes fell upon Patrón, a Longhorn cow, with a phenomenally large bladder which he proceeded to demonstrate by emptying all 3 gallons contained within it. Thoroughly impressed and in awe at the sheer brilliance of this beast, I sat on him.

Fort Worth Stockyards claims to be the history book of the livestock industry in Texas, with each chapter represented by the original bricks and mortar, the wood corrals, the men, and the music that are all still a part of the the Stockyards today (http://www.fortworthstockyards.org). As far as Casey and I could see it consisted predominantly of bikies, red necks and tourist shops. Not that we minded overly, but we did keep some of our stronger opinions to ourselves!

We wandered about the shops, looking at lots of wooden things we knew Aussie customs would be thrilled to deny/take home for their own houses... And then we hit the mother load. The biggest taffy shop I've ever seen! There was literally barrels of the stuff! Thankfully all individually packaged, or else who knows how many Augustus Gloops we would have lost! So Casey and I got busy shoving taffy into our little buckets before being beaten with the price per pound cost.

Picked up a few olden day bars for a few special little monkeys back home (you know who you are!) and showed a great amount of self restraint. Casey meanwhile left a little trail of empty taffy wrappers as we trundled off to the largest honky tonk, Billy Bob's Texas (www.billybobstexas.com). While it seems weird getting a bite in a popular country and western nightclub at 3pm, we knew we should try BBQ (again) now that we were in the "West". It wasn't unpleasant but it was also lacking the charred taste Australian BBQ meat boasts which we were both so accustomed to.

Checking watches, and (this time) the bus timetable, we headed out of Fort Worth Stockyards back to the city to ensure we got ourselves to the 7pm Rodeo in time. While the Rodeo wasn't until later, our admission ticket incuded entry to the carnival that was sharing the grounds of the Rodeo so we headed out there. While there was an infitite number of flashing lights and a million children, I enjoyed the carnival more than I did Disney. Maybe it was the lack of Mickey Mouse being crammed down my throat, or that people had significantly less teeth and wore dungarees. I can't be sure, but I had a gay old time. (http://www.fwssr.com)

I thought I'd get into the spirit a little, and try a regional food popular in North America at carnivals, fairs, sporting events, and seaside resorts. I am referring, of course, to the Funnel cake. This "delicacy" is made by pouring batter into hot cooking oil in a circular pattern and deep frying the overlapping mass until golden-brown. And then covered in a ridiculous amount of powdered sugar, or as we in the First world know it; icing sugar (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Funnel_cake).

It was terrifying, delicious and coronary inducing. Unfortunately we decided to skip the tea cups this time just in case we projectiled on a yokel. Thems sure can hits hard, hyuck.

There were a few million stores to buy authentic leather and other cowboy apparel from, which helped us burn off a little of the Funnel diabetes. We wandered through the cattle barns and stables, looking at donkeys, ponies and horses. I was mostly enthralled by the donkeys, and how much they resembled Shrek's Donkey... Which really shouldn't have been as exciting as it was, so I can only assume it was the first donkey I've ever seen!

Finally it was time for the big event, the phenomenon we'd come so far accross the country to see... The Rodeo! At that very moment, right before the Rodeo commence, I was as hyped up as I ever will be about a rodeo.

 And I doubt I will go to one again. The MC pretty much jumped straight into shouting about Jesus and how if you pray to Jesus asking him for money, he'll give it to you like some fictitious Disney character, and informing the delirious, brain-washed crowd that we had to "fix America before we can fix the world", presumably by pushing good Christian morals and belief on everyone (like buying an SUV so you can use all the petrol for yourself, or by lynching homosexuals). Casey and I were sickened and didn't join in the cultist whooping and applause for the revolting lack of basic morals and dignity with how human beings should be treated. And then the actual "show" began. I have no doubt forming a lasso and getting it to move in a consistent circle, let alone looping it over something requires phenomenal skill and plenty of training. However I don't think that releasing a terrified calf and then chasing it down on your horse to jump on its back, twist it's neck to the heavens so it falls to the ground and tying it up is overly impressive. Maybe I'm just a city slicker that doesn't understand the harsh realities of the country. But I struggle to see the correlation between loving thy neighbour and terrifying animals by near breaking their vertebrae for fun. Or worse, money. Maybe Jesus doesn't always grant that wish after all.

Angered by the dimwitted rednecks and supreme animal abuse we had witnessed, we saw one actual cow get "rodeo'd" then left. We returned to the hotel, but were hungry so ventured out into the night, off to Molone's Pub which was a bar we had passed several times and had phenomenal reviews on yelp (http://www.malonespub.com). Upon arrival we asked if the kitchen was still open, but alas, they were not. Our little hearts sunk a little, which was possibly conveyed in our eyes losing their last glimmer of shine, until the barman, Velton, said there had been a private booking earlier and there was some ribs and bread left over if we fancied, on the house. Ignoring the usual salmonella phobias, we gratefully accepted his offer. From this moment on the night took a steep turn for the better, and our night of frustrated confusion was forgotten. Whether it was the complementary shot of local TX blended whiskey or the beer tasters which so much reminded me of the greatest bar of all time back home in Brisbane, we pretty quickly fell in love with the place. We had good chats with the bar staff, whom we spent much of the evening shotting Jäger with and having free reign of the jukebox. We ended up staying at Molone's late into the night, shooting pool with a couple of guys from Oklahoma who were down for work. Hands down the greatest, friendliest bar I've been to in the US, with other local drinkers telling us tales and offering recommendations of what we should do on our last day in Fort Worth.

Fort Worth Day 1 (Transit & Wandering)

Even though we were up at 1.45AM for our 'Magical Express Airport Transfer Bus' at 2.25AM to be at the airport for our 5.50AM flight to Dallas/Fort Worth, I can't ever remember being so happy to leave one place. The transfer bus was just the icing on the cake because, although the bus was free, the on-board television spewed out advert after advert about Fantasmagorical Disney, Disney's Super Awesome Happy Fun Time Club and The Magic of Disney That Never Ever Ever EVER Ends *Mickey giggle*.

Fortunately leaving Horlando so early, meant we arrived in cowboy town in the mid afternoon. We caught a shuttle to our hotel, checked in, dumped our bags, removed our dirty washing, then hit the quiet streets of Fort Worth toward the laundry. Casey and I were both confused at the lack of cars on the road, despite the looming peak hour o'clock. The city was under going some heavy road works, but the not-so attractive barriers were masked with peculiar comics involving a man from the past in modern day Fort Worth... Or so our speculation lead us to believe! 

We also wandered past this old character...

...And would later go into Dallas to learn more about him. Which was lucky because the plaques around the statue said literally nothing about his death, other than the date it occured!! Which was irritating but after the brilliant signage at Disneys Animal Kingdom we weren't too suprised.

Cramming a machine full, we wandered into the closest bar, which was serving schooner sized beers! We ordered a couple of local brews and discovered that their schooners are very different to ours! For example, Australians aren't trusted to consume alcohol from anything other than plastic... This ridiculous looking-stemmed goblet was made entirely of solid glass!! With my heavily weakened biceps, it was a double-fister for sure!

We relocated our moist clothes into the dryer and had a look around at some touristy shops and booked tickets to the following nights Rodeo, which was one of the reasons we had gone to Fort Worth in the first place!

We had an early night on account of almost no sleep the night before and big promises of the Rodeo the next day!!

Road trippin' Part 2 : South Coast

Still recovering from the previous night out in New Orleans, we packed up and headed to collect our car which we would be driving across the country for the next couple of days, over to sunny ol Florida. We picked up our compact crumb-bucket Nissan Versa and headed West through the swamps toward Pensacola, stopping for a bite to eat at Grammy's. Mainly because it looked ridiculous, but fortunately tasted quite good.

We pressed on, driving along the South coast, until we hit the gorgeous beaches of Biloux Beach. Having never heard of it, we had no intention of going, but were both glad we stumbled across this landmine. Casey asked one of the locals what there's was to do around here. She responded with
"Around here? Nuthin. Hey Marlenne, what's there to do around here?"
Marlenne : "'Round here? Nuthin'"
That was enough to help us giggle through to our next stop.

 We continued on our merry way, heading away from the beaches and getting onto interstate 10, seeing a rather unappealing milk trucks as we did so.

 After playin Sheryl Crowe's 'Maybe Angels' close to eleventy million times we eventually we arrived in Pensacola. Didn't find any holy rollers, which was somewhat disappointing, but we did find our appetites so stopped for a feed at Sam's Seafood and Steaks. With ginormous sweet teas, we continued trying the Southern cuisine an ordered cheese grits (Worst.Mistake. Ever), delicious hush puppies and mullet, a local delicacy apparently. Maybe most Pensacolians have surgically removed their taste buds. Casey won the unspoken best meal competition with his blackened grouper.

We spent a rather uneventful night unconscious in a motel in Tallahassee. The next morning at 9AM we drove to a shopping center, but it was closed... Disgruntled, we farewelled the capital of Florida and proceeded on our road trip to the magical land of Orlando *jazz hands*.

Our next stop was a factory outlet, which let us stretch our legs for a while. Two hours later, as we got closer to the land of promised rainbow unicorns, we detoured, once more to check another possibly equally as magical land. The land of bogans, mullets and NASCAR. I am referring to Datona, no less. A massive stadium! Just absolutely enormous! Unfortunately it was closed by the time we had arrived, so alas no tour, but a very impressive sight to behold, indeed! And a lovely sunset to backdrop it.

We pressed onto Daytona Beach, which was more built up that Biloux and had a Ferris wheel. Sold me instantly. It was too dark to really see the ocean, but it's crashing could be heard from the boardwalk.

Managed to squeeze in a cheeky turtle surf. Totally gnarly dude.

After we'd finished be radical, we swung in for dinner at the Winghouse Bar and Grill after realising we hadn't had wings since my first night in the US... therefore it's technically not unhealthy! It wasn't until we were seated and had ordered drinks that we realised the waitresses were wearing next to nothing (tight singlets and hot hot pants!) and majority of the patrons were bikies! We dug in, then winged outta there!! Next stop... ORLANDO!!

Queen of New Orleans

Eyes bleeding from last nights bender, we woke early the next day to get our stupid 6.50am train to New Orleans. In hindsight I can't remember why I ever thought catching the train would be a nice idea because it was easily the most horrible mode of transport we'd taken all trip. I assume I thought going through 'gator filled swamps would be enjoyable... Maybe for an hour that would be interesting, but 8.5hours is a sure fire way to induce madness into any individual. Especially one with a splitting headache.

New Orleans (once we had eventually arrived) was thoroughly awesome. Perhaps it was the fact the 8.5 hour never-ending, snail-motorised train from Memphis was finally over, or just that we were staying put for a few days so we could finally take a breath. Either way, we were both a little tired of burning through cities like the homeless people do cigarettes (Although for $4 packs of Malboro Reds you can hardly blame them - that's only 16 quarters!).

After unloading our packs, we headed South, out to the Garden District's Magazine Street to see what that was all about. Beautiful old mid 19th Century Revival and late Victorian style houses lined the streets with Oak trees. The beauty of the place was disturbed only by the angular raises in the pavement, as though the earth had attempted to violently burst forth, cracking the cement and unsuccessfully attempting to rear it's ugly, soily head. Suppose it's good for the skateboarders if they fancy a "grind", man.

We stopped in at Baru, (www.barutapas.com) a South American/Spanish/Contemporary bistro and tapa's bar, which some random lady had recommended to us in a laundromat. We split four tapas between us and were not disappointed! With delicious dishes of chuzos (skewers of skirt steak), guacabello (Portabello mushrooms with avocado, olive oil and lime juice), arepas (White cornmeal cakes, pulled pork, black beans (Be proud Mama!) and pickled onion) and Trio de Causas (Tuna and potato salad, avocado, quail egg and Peruvian olive aïol) all washed down with a delicious mango mojito, it was no wonder we had to waddle back to the hotel!

On the second day we headed North from our hotel, toward the infamous Bourban St. It was only a short walk away and we picked up breakfast on the way, with coffee's to go. It would have been no later than 10am and we were only when we were a block or two down Bourban Street when I realised Casey and I were the only two people on the entire crowded street with coffees! Everyone else had a plastic cup of lager held in their hand or was sucking on lengthy straws which led to flourescent plastic yard glasses filled with God knows what... Some animals even had both! Suppose that's why the almighty father gave us two hands after all.

We slammed our milky, alcoho-free bevvies and swung into the next bar (http://mardigrasdaiquiris.com/), which specialised in a drink called a 'Jester', and claimed to have been "crowned The World's Strongest Drink by Big Easy locals and visitors alike" and comprised of at least two different alcohols (which naturally I can no longer definitively recall), presumably Strawberry Kiwi Everclear & 151 Dark Rum all blended with slushie ice. Delicious, yes, but glad I shared it with Casey! Too easy to drink!

Vision slightly blurred, we stumbled off to Frenchman St, having heard it was a less touristy (and thus less seedy) part of the French Quarter. Perhaps it was too early in the day to tell the difference, but bar owners were still hosing last nights sick into the gutters as they had already done on Bourbon Street prior to us walking down it. If the gutters of Bourbon that homed that cloudy, murky, ominous liquid that WASN'T pavement-hosed sick, then I'd rather not know what it was.
We wandered back to the hotel to and took a few snaps on the way of ye olden horse poles and gorgeous drain covers. And of course, did a bit of shopping!

It was hectic trying to get reasonably priced accommodation for the Saturday night in NOLA. We asked the concierge at our hotel if there was a big event happening that night that we were not aware about, but only got a grunt in response. Non the wiser, we found our answer eventually in a cigar shop on Bourban St. Apparently it was the first night of parades for the Mardi Gras! And then Martin Luther King Day that Monday. What ignorant tourists we were!

We ended up going to the Mardi Gras parade, as it seemed rather rude not to, which was quite an experience. The streets were chockers with intoxicated individuals shouting and slurring and carrying on like a bag of pork chops. While waiting for the parade to start a fat, ugly, white skinhead pushed in front of a man right beside us who had been waiting patiently for the parade for longer than we had. They exchanged a sentence each and then the skinhead lost his blob entirely and punched the other guy in the face, then proceeded to kick him after he fell to the ground. He only stopped when the innocent mans wife got up in the skinheads face and shouted where to go. So that was a terrifying start to an otherwise pleasant night... The parade itself was fairly good, with explicit, over-sexed floats. Many of the floats made political references which Casey and I were clueless to, but the crowd seemed pleased, so we smiled along in our blissful ignorance. We had intended on having a wild night out, but were both a bit buzz-killed from the crazed skinhead performance we scored front row seats to.

On the Sabbath we rose, hosed and charged back out into the mean streets of New Orleans to eat ourselves into a dizzy frenzy. First we hit up the Acme Oyster House www.acmeoyster.com and ordered some oystery goodness and a pitcher of beer (Bud light & oysters for breakfast never tasted so good!). The restaurant is extremely popular and it's not hard to see why. With an impressive menu offering traditional southern meals such as Gumbo and Jambalaya, Casey nor I were not left dissatisfied!

Proceeded on our gustatory tour of New Orleans, we headed almost immediately to Cafe Du Monde (www.cafedumonde.com), which is world famous for its cafe' au lait, beignets, and the opportunity to people watch. We ordered coffee and beignets, which is essentially a square French pastry type thing literally covered in icing sugar (we're talking about half a cup here!), and were not disappointed... Although I think our caffinated-sugar rush would have evaporated any tears, so it's hard to tell, really.

We had a little time to kill so went into a tour guide shop to inquire about swamp tours. The man who worked in the shop was easily the most incompetent sales man I have ever met. He had no real interest in closing a deal, which I found baffling as I've spent my fare amount of time in sales (tragically mostly of the tele variety!) and know how imperative ABC is (Always Be Closing). No, this man had no interest in closing, whatsoever. Instead he complained of previous customers, drank booze while he gibbered nonsense to us about how ridiculous the Mardi Gras thing was (which was funny in itself because it pulls a mother truck of tourists into New Orleans) and in the end couldn't actually sell us anything, because his mobile phone didn't have any credit! Eventually I found a break in his nonsense and reminded Casey we were supposed to be meeting "Kate" on Bourbon St. My ingenuis plan was foiled when Casey responded with, "Don't you mean Beth"! Nevertheless, moments later we were sprinting down the street away from the Mr HopelessPersonified. Turns out we were actually meeting someone called Beth, so I suppose technically I won't be sent to hell for that cheeky lie...

We caught up with Beth (who had previously worked with Casey in S&N's Cytogenetics, and was now living back in the States) and her friend Kristen, who took us out for a lovely evening of cocktails (including Pat O'Briens infamous Hurricane www.patobriens.com), delicious jambalaya pasta and karaoke spectating!

I can't recall what time we got home, but think it may have been about 1am... Which was probably just as well because we were hiring a car early the next day to start our two day roadtrip to the land where unicorns are born, rainbows are always in the sky and if you use your imagination well enough, your dreams really will come true; Orlando!