"You are leaving far too early." It seems that the Mexican porter of the Hotel St Paul is a master of understatement as we talk on the pavement outside the main entrance at 4:45am. Credit to him though, he is keeping me awake. As I board the Shuttle Van for the airport, he shakes my hand and wishes me good luck, a gesture I take as kind regards rather than inditement against the reputation of the Shuttle driver, but I find myself in two minds as he flys down one of San Francisco's many hills. My fellow passengers are silent business-men and no matter how polite I am I fail to crack their reluctacne to talk, which I decide must be due to the fact that I was waiting for the Shuttle beneath a neon sign boasting not 'Hilton' nor 'Marriott', but of a Thai Massage Parlour instead.
The flight to Dallas is via Las Vegas and the toy town birds-eye appearance of its infamous strip. I had joked to Maria via text about there probably being slot machines in the airport... I get there and there are. I manage to resist with a lot more ease than whoever put them there would probably have liked. I plonk myself down against the wall by my departure gate and as one plane arrives I am mistaken for some sort of information guide by at least six disembarking passengers. I will confess here and now that by the fifth I began making stuff up; "Baggage claim? Yeah, its that way, in the middle of all those slot machines... yeah I know, weird place to put it"
At Dallas Fortworth and in the real baggage claim some kids are doing an American equivalent of bob-a-job and offering to help people with their bags... funnily enough they all steer well clear of the huge scuffed green rucksack meandering round the carosel. I grab it from the revolve and head outside into the unmistakable Texas heat that surrounds me like a cheap nylon cagoule the moment I step out the door. I find a cab and tell the driver to take me to the nearest Super 8 Motel; I need a cheap bed and I need it now. He's a friendly Nigerian man who tells me how he' wants to travel to London one day and maybe study... I give him advice and in return he responds by overcharging me and letting me get my bag myself. I check in swiftly and haul my shattered self upstairs determined to fall straight asleep and regain some of the hours I lost last night; once in my room I lie on the huge bed and within a matter of eight hours I am fast asleep.
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