Antonio, or 'Toni is the assistant manager of El Paso's Gardner Hotel (and international Hostel). He spends his days at the front desk, sneaking a beer under the counter, playing Solitaire on the lobby computer and smoking his Mexican cigarettes out the front. He's from Kansas. With a heavy Kansas accent. But one detects Mexican blood. Toni can talk, I presume due to the lack of company in his average day. El Paso is an eerily quiet place, during the week anyway. The Gardner Hotel is utterly Fawltyesque. The elevator did not work (due to an electrical storm that occurred the day before I arrived). A few eccentric characters live there, poking their noses out the door. You see them once and never again. I had a hostel room, that is a 6 bed room, but it was all mine. I was free to scatter the contents of my suitcase around with reckless abandon. Everything in this place was aged and crumbling, from rusty taps to skirting boards to stuck doors. I really did like it. The lobby was a palace of tackiness, from the faux-leather armchairs to the plastic pot-plants. Even the wallpaper was glorious. So Toni finished his shift at 10pm and took us up the nearby mountain (hill) to see the city lights. Us being me and Naomi, an Aussie girl, forced to visit El Paso in order to renew her visa at the Dept. of Homeland Security, which just so happened to be across the border in 3rd World Juarez. The lights were indeed beautiful, and it was interesting to see the lights across the border too. But we were soon driven away by police who had to close the road before 11pm, so back to the hotel. Toni offered to take us for a beer but we found excuses and politely declined.
I had arrived in El Paso at 11.30am, and Toni took us up the mountain at 10pm. Within this time I wandered the streets of town, found the local library (a very tidy and approachable place), and browsed a few clothes shops. I had come looking for local wear/ware, but to my dismay, all the western shirts I came across were made in either China or Bangladesh. I settled for a 3/4 sleeve shirt (made in Dominican Republic). It was $3!
Further downtown are the Mexican stores/stalls. They're all the same, selling cheap sunglasses, sportswear, jewellery. One gets deja-vu walking down the street. I must've passed at least a dozen jewellery stores, in a row. For dinner I went hunting for Mexican food, which I assumed would be more genuine in Mexico. So I crossed the border. Stepping into Juarez was a bit freaky. Every few yards (literally) I was asked for pesos, offered young women, or offered a taxi. It was incredible. I found a small place that made me some greasy tacos, I drank some local soda pop, and got outta there. I'm sure it'd be great going there with Toni, but not alone. So at least I can say I've been to Mexico.
The following day, Toni drove Naomi and I down the highway to Cowtown boots, where surely there'd be the real stuff! But no, most of the boots were made in China. I got lucky though, and found the perfect pair, made in Mexico, not too ostentatious. Now I am happy. Naomi and I visited the minimal Museums of History and Art, both small but insightful and well-designed. Then back to the Gardner where we leaned on the desk and chatted to Toni for a while, before I fled for the Greyhound. It was really a good time.
This particular bus trip was harrowing. My fellow passengers were not bad, though talkative. Still not as bad as the young girl on the bus from LA who had discovered her voice and decided to scream her way intermittently, and startlingly, through Phoenix, Lordsburg etc. But on the bus to Austin sleep would not come. Not for a long time anyway. We stopped at a trucker's stop / petrol station at Fort Stockton, where I responsibly bought an apple and a banana. I could not remember the last time I'd had proper fruit. (Speaking of which today I saw a girl with a t-shirt with a Dave Chappelle quote: "Water, sugar, and of course purple". I lol'd). Yes, proper fruit, it only cost 99c for the pair. But the apple was rotten at the core. I have bitter memories of Fort Stockton. Oh well, I was jolted awake at San Antonio, changed buses, and up to Austin. This is the beautiful part of Texas. More green and hilly, though it is still ridiculously hot. I haven't been so land-locked in all my life.
El Paso - Austin
