This photo isn't actually the Austin area, it's just one of the many road-ahead photos I've snapped. This area of Texas ais a little greener - the RV park is the nicest we've been in, looking a little more parky and a littles less parking-lotty.
It is unbelievably hot here, well over 100, and with the higher humidity it's a little like sitting in the sun wrapped up in a giant rubber hot-water bottle suit-thing (I don't exactly know where I was going with that mental image, because my brain has been parboiled.) I seriously considered sleeping out on the picnic table, as it was impossible to cool the camper completely with the fan. Settled for grumping at M for leaving his hot laptop on MY side of the bunk (he was quite asleep at the time) and turning the fan directly on my face. It worked, sort of.
I may be driving home on my own, anyway; M has fallen immediately in love with Austin. It's a weird place, as advertised. We spent almost two hours, I think, at Fiddler's Green acoustic music store, where the manager was a young man who could play amazing effortless mandolin (ain't nuthin') and was happy to sit and talk mandolin and old-time music with us. M was in bliss. We bought a t-shirt and hat for M, did NOT buy a mandolin, and the proprietor gave us two coffee mugs and a bumper sticker. I asked him for a music recommendation for the evening, and got directed to Rio Rita's for an old time jam.
See, downtown Austin is crammed with music venues - tiny little clubs elbow-to-elbow with hand-painted funky signs, where the music goes on on semi-private porches out in the back. They look like speakeasies, where you'd have to know to go. There is any kind of music you can imagine here, if you know where to find it, and if you were wandering you could definitely be out all night. The street corner lots in the area we were in are host to impromptu food courts - old camp trailers set up with a middle area strung with festive bare light bulbs and picnic tables, selling most any food you can imagine, and probably some you can't.
In keeping with our international theme (and our habit of eating after everything is closed) we chose excellent yuppie food from a run-down looking dive, and listened to - yes - a klezmer band. It was accidental klezmer, we weren't looking for it, and it was fun.
Then we moved on to Rio Rita's, and sat out on the back porch and listened to a violin player, banjo player, and guitarist play old-time. M went out and got the mandolin and joined them, and I drank iced tonic water and chatted with the guitar player, who sang the virtues of West Texas, which is I think where we just came from and not at all virtuous. To each her own!
Today we will check out the local metro train and transit system. Mandolins, old-time music, and rail - see why I think I may be driving back myself? Don't know if we'll be out of here tonight. It would be easy to stay here for a week. I am sure I could find drummers, too, if I looked. And flea markets. The rubber suit filled with ice water may be tougher, but I bet it's not impossible.
