BURSARY AWARD WINNER HELEN LOMAS SHARES HER TRAVEL ADVENTURES TO TEXAS AND LOUISIANA IN A DIARY.
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RUNNER-UP SHUYANG WANG ALSO WRITES ABOUT HER TRIP. HER LETTER FOLLOWS HELEN LOMAS'.
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Helen Lomas
Newnham U.S. Alumni Travel Grant Report: THE SOUTH
London 05/08/2007
It took me a while to work out how I wanted to do this. I want to do a travel report for the ladies who have so wonderfully contributed in some way or another towards this big adventure, but I also want to do something for myself. I want to write down what I’m doing at the time, just little bits and pieces, because no doubt if I left it until I returned home, I would forget things or wouldn’t capture the experience properly.
My plan, in its most basic format, is as follows: armed only with two guidebooks, a passport and list of recommendations from an archaeologist I met in central Anatolia, I will spend five nights in Austin; the alleged coolest place in Texas. I have somewhere to stay and for the first few days I’m going to play it safe while I get my bearings. I want to take advantage of Austin’s reputation; check out the state capitol and do the museums, and of course sample the music scene. And then I’m off to Louisiana, initially to stay in Baton Rouge with Helena Verrill (N’87) for a day or so before heading to New Orleans. Here I will stay for four nights, and the more I read, the more excited I am about this particular leg of the journey. I do not have the advantage of a before versus after visit in terms of Hurricane Katrina, but it will be interesting to see if the city has maintained its laid back, unique cultural influences that make New Orleans so famous, after such devastation. I think the best way to see this will be to talk to the people, maybe even see if I can contact relief organisations or local newspapers while I’m out there.
After this, it’s all a bit up in the air really. I’m flying back to Austin on the 18th, which gives me five full days to play with. At some point I’m meeting another ex-Newnhamite, Susan Deans-Smith (N’78) for a tour of the UT campus which should be interesting to compare with Cambridge. Ideally though, I would like to go into Hill Country for a day or two and get out of the urban landscape. It would be a mistake not to try and see the scenery around Texas, and secretly, I want to find a real cowboy…
Initially, I had planned to tour more of the states of the south, but I just don’t think that will be feasible. Transport between states is only really an option if I fly by plane to avoid very long train or bus journeys, and I think I would rather spend longer in a select few places and have a greater chance of understanding them than do lots of places in three weeks without getting a good feel of them. I’m hoping that New Orleans and Texas will provide a big enough cultural contrast to see more of a spectrum of the southern states, though whether there are similarities between the two will be interesting in itself.
Austin 08/08/2007
Took me ages to work out the time and date today. After an eight hour, three hour delayed flight to Chicago; I trundled my way across O’Hare airport to the gate for my flight to Austin. Standing at the gate, staring up at the screen waiting for something interesting to happen, I made a slight comment to the person standing next to me, inquiring as to whether I needed my passport. And then they were off. Where was I from? Cambridge. Cambridge? Really?! A man brought over his six year old son who wanted to do biology at Cambridge so he could study meerkats. Someone else asked what I was doing in Austin. Travelling, mainly. Oh well, you must go here, and here, and to this bar, someone else piped in. The conversations carried on throughout the flight. It was unbelievable, and would have been lovely if I weren’t so damn British and a tad uncomfortable being the focus of attention of complete strangers.
I’ve been in Austin for three hours now and I’m already struck by the friendliness of people. Plan for tomorrow: go into town and do some museums.
Austin 10/08/2007
I think the fact that I am writing a day late is a good sign. Because yesterday, I didn’t sit down. My jet-lagged body woke up at 6.30, made the coffee machine explode and set out for a potter around. One bagel and an earl grey tea later (yes yes, terribly British, but still a necessity!) and I’m learning about cattle farming in the Texan pan handle at the State Capitol museum. The building itself is very impressive, and actually taller than the White House, but looks somewhat out of place in the Austin skyline. I was rather bewildered by what Americans consider ‘historic’. A whole museum was dedicated to events that occurred almost in living memory. I think the fact that I have just come from an excavation of a 9000-year-old site may have something to do with it. Another thing that I’ve noted is how proud Texans are of their heritage, which is not the same as American heritage. It almost seemed like ‘Texan’ is an identity more easily expressed than that of ‘U.S. citizen’. But then of course, this could be happening in state capitals throughout the country. Anyway, I found out a lot of cowboys came from Britain. That surprised me.
I wandered down to the Museum of Art in the afternoon which had a photography exhibition on and was a nice, easy way to spend a few hours. Knowing where to have lunch was considerably more tricky. I wanted to start off the trip well in culinary terms, taking advantage of Austin’s ‘multicultural persuasions’ (Lonely Planet 2004). I’m very impressed I haven’t seen a single McDonalds while I’ve been here in what’s considered THE beef eating state. Shame the same can’t be said for Starbucks. I ended up eating in a Moroccan café in the centre of downtown. I ordered chicken and couscous and the waitress shrieked with delight at my accent. This however, was nothing compared to what she did to the man sitting behind me. James, initially from Kensington, has been working in New York for the past year but retaining his terribly English accent. “Oh my Gaad, do you like, know each other?!”. We do now.
A few hours later, James, his Australian friend Dom, and I decide to brave the nightlife which could be heard three blocks away from our destination of the legendary 6th Street. And this was a Thursday. The noise really was overwhelming. I imagine Austin will be a very easy place to go out on my own, because conversation really wasn’t an option. Everywhere, and I really do mean everywhere, had a live act on and they were all pretty varied in style, but all good. After an evening of watching bands, miming our life histories to each other and observing the people, I got to bed at 3.
And so, today I’m pretty exhausted. I’m sitting in a coffee shop in the Warehouse District, which is a very architecturally interesting place to be. The air con is on full blast because it is unbearably hot outside. I’m reminded of this every time someone traipses in for the free water pitchers they’re handing out. I’ve also just seen two shots of sambucca being poured for the two men on the other side of the room. It’s 11 o’clock in the morning.
I have to say it, Austin is very cool, and quite beautiful, and its reputation for its nightlife is well deserved. I’m starting to wonder whether Texas’s reputation as a conservative, vaguely backward region of America is justified. But Austin may be quite exceptional in this respect.
Austin 11/08/2007
Everything was all going so well yesterday until I decided to be adventurous and have a burger for lunch. I was very poorly for much of the afternoon. Tried to go for a gentle stroll in the evening to see the bats under Congress Bridge but got about half way down San Jacinto street before giving up and heading back to the hotel, picking up some tea bags on the way.
But today more than made up for yesterday’s unfortunate day in bed. Up very early and headed into town to the other side of the river and South Congress, affectionately termed ‘So-Co’. The view from the river of the Austin skyline was stunning. Despite losing most of my body weight in sweat, it was well worth the trek. So-Co was full of strange, bohemian, insanely coloured shops with crafty little stalls in between (I found a man who made funky shirts). It was like a small island of alternative coolness in Austin, which itself is described as a cool, liberal island in Texas, so imagine just how cool this place is. I bought a hat of the western variety, which was one of the highlights of my day.
In the afternoon, I met up with Delfin, a Texan archaeologist at Cambridge who lives in Fort Worth, and Laura and Alice, who have been travelling over here. We jumped into Delfin’s 1980 4x4 and went to Schoal Creek Green Belt on the outside of town and underneath the I-35 highway. It amazed me how such a beautiful scenic river could exist so close to the middle of one of the fastest growing cities in the country. We did lots of swimming and rope swinging, until my rope got caught around a branch mid swing and I gracefully bounced off the trunk and into the water, legs splayed. The bruises will heal, the emotional scars may not. Feeling thoroughly exhausted, we then drove to San Antonio for a speedy trip to see the Alamo, but not before a taco break and a long discussion about what exactly refried beans are.
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We arrived at San Antonio at about 6-ish and headed straight to the Alamo for a sadly brisk tour as it was about to close. There were lots of archaeological artefacts to appeal to those as ignorant of American history as me, though I didn’t get a chance to read all the plaques. I was really struck at how different the building itself looked from its surroundings in the city. It was difficult to appreciate it properly with so many people bustling around it. This theme continued on the River Walk. I was a bit overwhelmed at this point; this part of San Antonio seemed very bright, a little artificial and Disney-ish. It probably didn’t help that it was a Saturday night and we were very tired. We were only there for two hours, so after I’ve been to Louisiana, I may try and head back down there again for a little longer. It certainly seemed quite different from Austin; both kind of liberal and fun, but this one doesn’t seem as cool.
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| One thing I was really struck by on the trip down to San Antonio was the billboards on the side of the road. I wanted to take photos, but we were going too fast. Some of my personal favourites include: -
“REPENT, AUSTIN”
“CHOOSE ADOPTION, NOT ABORTION”
“ABSTINENCE- IT’S OUR CHOICE” (this one can’t be fully appreciated without the accompanying image of about twelve adults and teenagers smiling slightly manically)
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Despite this, I haven’t really come across anywhere near as many bible influences as I had expected of Texas. I suppose that this is because this particular area of the state is quite liberal. I’d say I’ve seen more gay pride flags than displays of overt religious or right wing ideals. They also seem to quite like posters with ‘9/11 WAS AN INSIDE JOB’ type themes. Of course, I’ve seen more state flags than everything else put together.
Austin 12/08/2007
After the excitement of yesterday (definitely feeling more upbeat having spent a day with some familiar faces and seeing more of the state), I planned a chilled-out walk up to ‘the Drag’, a long stretch of cafes and shops near the University of Texas. I think this may have been unwise given the extreme heat and lack of buses. I really suffered on the walk, but it was nice to see bright shops, wall paintings and trendy little cafes. This was different from So-Co. Still kind of arty and bohemian, but in a more unplanned, student-orientated way, as if it isn’t really trying to be cool (I sound like a really pretentious estate agent!). After a while, I was defeated by the weather and Delfin’s need for Thai food. I obliged because he did a lot of driving yesterday, and also because it turned out the Thai food was a lot better than I expected.
This trip up to the UT campus area really sold Austin to me. This city is buzzing, and cultural, and lively. But with this realisation came a twinge of regret. When I planned this trip, I wanted to see places which were bohemian oases of tolerance and alternative music, and wacky tattoos, but also I wanted to see conservative rural areas with questionable attitudes to different cultures. But it’s increasingly looking as if this isn’t an option, with poor public transport links and infrequent services which are likely to leave me stranded in such places. It seems there are bus services out of San Antonio to the Hill Country so I may find some such places towards the end of my stay. But first I’m off to see some bats.
The bats were amazing. Apparently, Austin has the largest urban bat colony in the country and they all sleep under Congress Bridge. There was a cluster of people standing underneath with cameras flashing, desperately trying to capture thousands of bats fluttering off to find some bugs. On the way to the bridge, I stopped off at the ‘Mexic-Arte’ museum in town - a sweet little place showing Mexican art. Despite Austin’s location and relative proximity to the Mexican border, I haven’t really picked up on any Mexican influences since I’ve been here. Or maybe it’s so integrated, I wouldn’t really notice it anyway.
I was supposed to meet up with a friend of my Anatolian archaeology acquaintance, but that didn’t happen in the end. Instead, I was fed free fajitas and taught to play dominoes in a bar called Shakespeare’s pub, which to be honest, couldn’t be less English if it tried, by four East Texans in the oil business and here on holiday. This was probably my first encounter with a ‘proper’ Texan dialect and I’m not exaggerating when I say I found it quite a challenge following everything they said. It wasn’t their accent so much, more the phrases they used which were beyond me.
Still feeling the effects of the heat today, I decided to head back to bed but via a different route from usual. And I stumbled across a totally different world: Red River Street. Slightly more grimy looking, with a more make-shift feel about the place (estate agent again), this road stems off 6th street. It seemed surprising I didn’t see anyone who looked like a tourist, or over 30 for that matter. I passed an R&B bar which was heaving and making the pavement vibrate and, on a complete impulse, went into a bar with red neon lighting and a three piece rock band playing on the veranda out back. It was pretty quiet (population, not volume) but the music and atmosphere were exceptional and much better than anything I’d experienced on the ‘night time’ stretch of 6th street. Aware that I had a flight the next morning, I left before things livened up even more, but not before a fairly lengthy discussion with the barmaid about who made better boyfriends; drummers or bass guitarists. Drummers, obviously.
Baton Rouge 14/08/2007
Have managed to completely miss a day again, but the way I see it, I was travelling for much of yesterday anyway, so that doesn’t really count. I arrived in Baton Rouge late afternoon yesterday and went straight to the home of Helena Verrill, ex-Newnhamite and professor of mathematics at Louisiana State University, and her husband. Her house is built on stilts in a leafy suburb of Baton Rouge with a lemon plant in the garden with one enormous lemon. After a quick tour of the town lake spotting turtles, we went out for a meal with two other mathematicians (I would like to thank all four for not talking about math at all during the evening!). But before I talk about this, I should probably outline my first impressions of Louisiana; very green, very moist and much more dilapidated than Austin, but in a nice way. I think this probably equates to a poorer state, but doesn’t take away from a complex cultural history. Baton Rouge is a big university city, and the colours of the LSU football team are everywhere. I asked Helena, Promod and Marco, who all work in the university, whether the high student presence gave a more liberal presence to the city. They were quite adamant that it didn’t, apparently many of the students are politically quite right wing, which makes it very different from Austin if this is the case. Promod even recounted an occasion where several students got in trouble for flying a confederate flag at a LSU football game. Here, it’s a little different from the UK in that many students are also locally born, so perhaps the republican persuasions of the area are amplified by students not leaving, and few from further afield coming in.
Today, Helena took me on a tour of Baton Rouge town centre. We started at the state capitol, an enormous 1930s building on the banks of the river with outstanding views from the top, before heading to the old state capitol dating from the 18th century with some fetching curtains and psychedelic stained glass windows. However, it was at this point in the day that I really started to struggle. The weather here is actually unbearable; as hot as Austin, but with insanely high humidity. Walking is an absolute mission and I have spent the whole day drenched. Helena and I went to the LSU campus which was nice, though it was a shame that it’s out of term time and there weren’t many students about. The departments seemed huge compared to Cambridge and the required courses much broader than at home, which must be annoying for those who want to specialise. One highlight (odd as this may sound) was seeing the central air conditioning system. I can’t even begin to imagine what would happen if this amazing feat of engineering were to break down.
Something I don’t understand is the connection between American universities and football. As in Austin, the football stadium dominates the campus, and in some respects the city, and its 60,000 maximum capacity is regularly filled on home games. The fans aren’t just students either. At LSU, they have a mascot tiger called Mike. I’m not talking about one of those men that dress up as a tiger and wiggle about on the pitch. This is a real tiger. The fifth Mike had just died, but Helena showed me the first Mike from the 1950s which is now stuffed in the university natural history museum. The whole thing is just a bit bizarre and I suppose the only equivalent I can imagine would be if the Cambridge University boat house were bigger than the UL and responsible for a vast slice of the University’s funding. Not good.
Much of the afternoon was spent in the Rural Life Museum; a reconstructed/restored plantation site with buildings and artefacts from the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. It was an excellent insight into how a plantation worked and how people, including the slave population, lived. At this point, I really was dying, especially with the realisation that it wasn’t beetles that were running across the back of my legs, but beads of sweat. Helena was very helpful and I am so grateful to her for guiding me around and letting me stay in her home. I learnt lots about American politics, the running of an American university and how Baton Rouge was indirectly affected by Hurricane Katrina with the population almost doubling as people left New Orleans. Evidently, many have stayed, based on the boom in construction going on around the city. By five in the evening, I was on the bus to New Orleans and sleeping so deeply I almost missed the stop.
New Orleans 15/08/2007
First impressions of New Orleans last night probably weren’t the best. Feeling a little bleary, and it still being around 80 degrees outside, I ventured out into town. I was overwhelmed by all the neon on Bourbon St and at the sheer number of bars and restaurants spilling out into the streets. Slightly scared by all the noise and lights, I ended up in a very non-touristy bar and it became immediately apparent that I had stumbled in on a birthday party for Roger. But it was ok, his brother lives in Liverpool so I was more than welcome. I got talking to an American-Indian woman from the East Band Cherokee Indian tribe from North Carolina, who was in New Orleans for some meetings on Native American housing policies. I asked her about her views on repatriation of human remains, since it’s my area. She seemed to feel very strongly about it, which is what I would have expected, but said her tribe were very open to the study of remains by archaeologists prior to reburial and the importance of conveying these results to living Indian groups. I’m not sure I agreed completely with her; I can’t really compromise the value of keeping human remains for future analysis, but it was very interesting to hear such views first hand. Archaeologists have to acknowledge the views of other cultures, especially when it comes to sensitive issues such as reburial, but it still makes it very difficult to be enthusiastic about losing human remains of scientific value for future generations.
I seemed much more acclimatised to the heat today, though drinking water constantly is the only way to balance out the losses. The city seems to have lost much of its sleaziness with daylight and I decided to spend the day taking it easy, walking around and soaking up the scenery. Much of the morning was getting lost around the French Quarter, taking photos of beautiful wrought iron balconies and resisting the temptation for coffee and beignets on every avenue. The people here are very friendly, saying hello so often that, to a cynical Brit such as myself, it’s difficult to believe they’re always talking to me. The architecture is stunning, and there are clear French influences in the street names and buildings, but it’s difficult to know how much is a genuine relic of New Orleans’s cultural heritage, and how much is being reconstructed to add to the city’s tourist appeal and to make it more ‘different’. And how much do these amount to the same thing?
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I headed to the Garden District in the afternoon; a long walk but a very nice way to get a feeling for the place and it didn’t feel so bad stopping off en route for some Cajun food. The houses in the Garden District were amazing- totally different from those in the French Quarter, much grander and like the plantation houses around Baton Rouge. It was really quiet in the neighbourhood, and I felt a little idiotic talking photos of people’s houses. After a wander around the Lafayette cemetery (the tombs are above ground so that when the city flooded, the bodies didn’t float to the surface, which is a comforting thought), I went to Magazine St on the recommendation of the cemetery guard, who said this was “real” New Orleans. This part of town was very laid back and much less touristy. I headed back, thankfully discovering a place that did free re-fills on the way!
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