San Anonio

After 2,200 miles the time had come to retire the car. A last two-hour ride back to our new (but vastly cheaper) hotel near the Alamo allowed us to drop our bags and make our way through a torrential storm to the Enterprise car rental site where it all began. We apologised for the depth of sun-broiled insect husks on the radiator grill but the nice young girl still gave us a free ride back to the Travelodge.

San An without the sci-fi nutter overlay is a bit more sedate but, as with all big cities, can be a rip off. (RANT ALERT!) It still annoys the hell out a me that Texians will not advertise their prices up front: it doesn't matter if it is for the museums, IMAX theatres, toll roads, or the alcohol prices. You only know how much it's going to cost when you go to pay. It's amazing how a modern commercial nation can be so secretive up front about what they are selling their services for. They wouldn't get away with that anywhere in Europe, S E Asia, or Australasia!

Having said that, the last few days were languidly pleasant. The storm had cleared the air. G & S wouldn't recognise the current San An pseudo-English-summer climate from the blistering humid heat of four weeks ago. Our time has been spent on overpriced drinks on the Riverwalk, steak dinners at the Hard Rock cafe, Sunday afternoon in Travis Park with cold beers attending a free jazz festival, running around downtown on a day pass for the trolley bus and generally bumming around people watching (the best sport for idle OAPs).

So, now that its just about over, what do we think about this country, this semi-rich state of Homo Texians?

Well, I may have mentioned the people here have a few guns, even though CNN seem to report daily on shooting atrocities. Back in Austin, in that really good upstairs-down-a-corridor bar, our server answered a mischievous question from Gary: "Yes, I have a gun for birds, ducks, alligators, deer, squirrels, possum, frogs, elk and T-Rex" (OK, made the last bits up, but the point is, he had a lot of species-specific killing machines). Back in Port A, we met the incredibly friendly mother of a most delightful 8-year-old girl who came from the Hill Country who, after buying a round of drinks for a pair of strangers, admitted to having over 30 guns in the house to "protect her family". Emergent conclusion: these rootin' tootin' alpha males and their aggressive ranch mothers are really afraid. Of each other! Of everyone! They have legalised assault rifles ferchrissakes! Bottom line: I can understand the need for a Frontiersman to take control of his destiny but this is not the wild west any more (or is it?). It worries me that people who worship the creed of the Second Amendment in such a fundamentalist way are able to influence US foreign policy.

My British prejudices notwithstanding, we've met some great, friendly people. A lot of them, once they realised we were naive, unarmed and (gosh, gasp!) Englishpeople-Who-Walked-Everywhere, they were very concerned about our health, whether it be our intention to drive to the Mexican border or just walk 20 blocks back from a downtown bar to the seawall in Galveston. One way to look at the Texian culture is as a hankering back to simpler times, something that the middle class English are very wont to do. The idea that everyone would be responsible for themselves and their loved ones without armies of interfering civil servants, social workers, insurance companies or lawyers is very attractive. (But, unfortunately, they live in the USA, so they have them too.)

To put it in perspective: Texas is 2.87 times the size of the UK. Here's a comparison map. The UK holds 63.7 million souls, Texas just 26 million. That's a lot more space. Room to move. Not surprising they are different despite using the same language. Would we recommend Texas for a visit? Yes, but you ain't in England any more, Toto.

And, that's it. We fly out tomorrow. Just one more chance for a cold beer in the evening sun and a Texan steak . . .