[usa9] san antonio

"You leaving us already?" asks the porter as I stumble out my room bags at all angles. Its nice to sense genuine disappointment in his voice, but alas seven hours after checking in I'm checking out again.

At night San Antonio was deserted, today it is anything but. The city is hosting an ECA Youth Convention, I have no idea what that is, but the upshot is that the city is beseiged by groups of teenagers in identical t-shirts. Like a Christian Youth version of Hitchcock's The Birds they seem to multiply at every turn; first eight wearing yellow, then there's twelve in green on a bridge, then sixteen in blue on a boat; eighteen more across the street in a t-shirt that looks like it has the Luton Town crest on the front. Intuition tells me its a church based thing of some sort. Whatever has brought them here I pity the group who's leader thought tie-dye would be a cool look.

The most welcoming difference between San Antonio and downtown Dallas is the fact that there are people here. Not just the kids in the t-shirts; there are lots of people. I like it already. The majority can be found wandering the Riverwalk; a subterranean, part man-made network festooned with restaurants and bars of varying themes for the local and tourist alike. Even if the appearance of Mad Dog's Englsih Pub does make it look worryingly more like a set from Football Factory than a family eatery.

Like America itself, for the most part the Riverwalk is artificial and convenient, but it works. In, around, and beneath the city centre is this network of leisure and serenity I would never have associated with Texas when in Dallas. After much wandering I take a seat at the 'Republic of Texas'. Watching the boats and the people go by I get my first taste of real Texan food and Texan beer. Its good and sitting here reminds me more of the street cafe culture of Belgrade than my experience of Dallas. "How was it?" asks the Stetson clad waiter as he takes my plate. "Fantastic," is my reply; fighting back the urge to finish with "I can see why you Texans are so fat"

I collect my bag from the Holiday Inn and traipse the few blocks to the Alamo Travelodge where I am booked in for the night. At 8:30pm Maria and Chris arrive from Lincoln via London, Atlanta and Dallas and I'm on hand to meet them and rejoice in my first conversation in two days.