Fredericksburg is a bit of a gem: another German/Texan Main Street full of art galleries, knickknacks, steak houses and biergartens. After a bit of a bar crawl last night to work the kinks from our day's driving we opted for a genteel drive around the immediate vicinity. First off was Luckenburg; Pop. 3 (yes, 3!). Driving around the "city loop" we spotted the Luckenburg Post Office (a shack), the Luckenburg Saloon (a wooden front with a hole in it to serve bottles and a sign; "No BYOB"), and an ATM (a wooden box). We understand that this place comes alive at the weekends when the inhabitants hold the Saturday night dance in the barn. Next; Comfort, a delightfully twee town that looks as if the inhabitants decided to build a disneyland version of what Small Town America should look like. After that it was back to Fredericksburg to mooch along the enormous High Street. Unlike the broiling 98F humidity of San Antonio the afternoon presented a breezy 80F and as we passed the Silver Creek Beer Garden & Restaurant, a local Country & Western singer was playing to a small audience. Well; nice afternoon + cold draught Stella Artois (yes!) + some laconic Jim Reeves tunes = "why not?". The evening saw us back at the Silver Creek where they had a blues band complete with harmonica. This is a delightful place to chill out
Thanks to the miracles of midnight e-mails and some feverish computation it was determined that the Farrant's cometary orbit would intersect the Lampen's circular one at Austen Texas on September 10th, which just happens to be 2 hours drive from Fredericksburg and Gary's birthday. Frenzied research identified the best (i.e. cheapest) motel to downtown Austin (unfortunately, six miles out -- Austin is stupidly expensive) and long-range plans were put in place for a rendevous and close encounter.
And amazingly, it worked. We met up with the peripatetic Farrants at the Country Inns & Suites on the i35, jumped in a taxi and headed off to 6th street, downtown Austin. What can I say? Big bars, tiny hotpants and tight t-shirts greeted us down the street for the next six hours until we fell into another taxi and crashed safely back at the Inn.
