Day Thirteen: Sports!

I woke up feeling a little fragile, but mostly, I was excited. Today was the day I’d be watching my first real American football game (sorry Canyon), and also the day I will introduce Steph to rugby. The fact that it was Wales V Fiji didn’t hurt, either.

We popped to Hy-Vee to stock up on supplies and pick up a few things we didn’t get at Wal-Mart earlier in the week. I managed to finally find some decent cheese there (imported Welsh cheddar, made in Crickhowell, no less) – as a result of this, I decided to not be greedy and leave these on the shelf:

After calling back into Wal-Mart on the way home to get our supporters’ shirts, we headed for the game.

Many thanks go to Scott Waltman, who holds season tickets and made it possible for me to see my first football game… and how! Six rows up on the 50 yard line! The band began with a medley of American music, including the Star Spangled Banner, of course.

The players took to the field…

…and I was too busy enjoying myself and trying to follow the game to take any more photos. Despite all my apprehension, I picked it up pretty easily and by the end of the first quarter I was well into it. It’s definitely a slower game than anything I’m used to (the clock stops and play resets every time the ball carrier is downed, so even though there are a total of sixty minutes of play the game can last up to four hours) but it held my attention. Nick’s Hamburger Shop had a food truck there, so I got a bag of burgers at half time. This is a bag of burgers with my name on it:

The twelve-year-old in me found this amusing (more of him later):

Here’s a quick snap of me and Steph supporting the team (who actually lost 38-28, but it was still a damn good match):

Go big! Go blue! GO JACKS!!

After the game, we had a few hours to kill until the rugby match (kick off was at midnight our time) so we went downtown for a beer or two. We tried one in a bar called Skinner’s, but the atmosphere was poor and the beer was shite. I did laugh, however, at this:

That screen constantly displays the current temperature of the cellar. The picture is blurry so it isn’t clear, but underneath the screen the text says “beer that’s too cold to hold!” Strangely, they are incredibly proud of this. We decided to drink up and sink a quick one in Jim’s Tap, where we met up with Jared again. On the way home, I was once again re-united with the twelve-year-old in me…

…but I think anyone can see the humour in it. *sniggers*

<usa> We picked up a case of Grain Belt Premium from the gas station a block away from the apartment, and headed home to watch the game on pay-per-view. </usa>

As if in reconciliation for the Jacks’ defeat earlier, Wales stormed to victory over Fiji 66-0. SIXTY SIX NIL. It was a combination of Wales playing out their arse and Fiji playing abysmally. George North in particular shone through as a top player – that match was one of the first times where I think all the new talent in the Wales squad actually worked together as a driving force, as opposed to being a strong support for the more experienced players. That’s my opinion, anyway. The match set us up for a quarter final against Ireland, which I am really looking forward to. A fantastic end to a fantastic day.

SPORTS!

Day Twelve: “Nobody needs nine feet of hot dogs!”

Before we begin, I feel I should warn you that this blog is practically identical to yesterday’s in that it mostly covers my eating of food and drinking of beer.

We woke up late, and went for lunch with Steph’s friends Marion and Jared in a place on campus called Weary Wil’s. Whilst there were a few offerings that tempted me, I was taken by on in particular; a hot dog incorporating three frankfurters and covered in chilli, bacon and cheese. I added a side of tater tots (which are fantastic, by the way) and a pink lemonade. I had my doubts about whether or not I could eat that much foot, but luckily I had a guardian angel printed on the table:

However, not even Mr. Harding could prepare me for the onslaught of meat. Observe: before…

…and after:

Yeah.

Apparently, if you eat three in one sitting, you get a t-shirt… I don’t think even I could do that. Besides, as it was put when we were discussing this prospect, “no-one needs to eat nine feet of hot dogs.” When I say ‘we’, I am referring to myself and this band of rogues…

…who are, as it turns out, pretty decent at posing for a photo. Against my better judgement, I accompanied them to the Dairy Bar – an ice cream parlour on campus that makes their own ice cream on site. Fun fact: did you know that South Dakota State University is where cookies ‘n’ cream ice-cream was invented? Naturally, that’s what I had:

I know, I’m a pig… but it was good. Steph had something minty and equally delicious.

Walking back through campus was pleasant…

…and this number plate cracked me up. Clearly, this person is a Texas native…

…and they want the world to know it.

The evening consisted of another return to Jim’s Tap – this time for the big planned night of drinking with a lot of Steph’s friends. We were too busy having fun to take many pictures, but rest assured it was a fun (and drunken) night. Steph’s friend Tom introduced me to the game of “quarters” the night before (which I forgot to blog about) and I had a good spell of beginner’s luck at it, so we staged a rematch. Basically, you fill a shot glass with whatever drink you desire. You take it in turns to bounce a quarter (25 cents) off the table and into the shot glass. If you succeed, the other person drinks, spits out the quarter and hands it back, refills the drink, and you get another go. It’s possible to rack up a lot of victories in a row and get your opponent very drunk. Great frat party game which I will definitely be bringing back to the UK.

Here are some blurry photos just to document the event (Steph was four or five whiskey sours in when I tasked her with camerawoman duties):

We conceded that I kicked Tom’s arse at quarters… however, to be fair, he completely annihilated me in multiple games of table football/foosball. I appreciate a man with competitive spirit – especially when it comes to bar games. Me and Steph solved Rubik’s cubes a few times too, which impressed and enthralled everyone. In all, the night was a great success – I even vaguely remember chowing down on a box of mac and cheese when I got home.

Steph and I also observed that as couples go, we’re not obnoxious and tend to stay away from public displays of affection. Whilst that is mostly true, thinking of how much of a good night I had with Steph and her friends whilst writing this entry inspired me to break code for once. Hence, I will close with a picture of us looking like a couple.

*gag heave sick etc.*

Day Eleven: In which we eat burgers and drink.

This was a very lazy day and consisted mostly of chilling at Steph’s apartment and listening to records… which is fine, by the way. Still, there isn’t much to blog about.

For dinner, we went to the aforementioned Nick’s Hamburger Shop; at this point, I need to explain the concept of “sliders.” Sliders are essentially mini hamburgers – they are usually around 3″ in diameter, meaning that the diner usually orders multiple burgers in one sitting. I love this concept, for a number of reasons…

Firstly, you can mix it up a bit; a cheeseburger, a plain burger with just mustard, a double cheeseburger with all the trimmings, all in one meal.

Secondly, if you know how good the slightly burnt crust of a burger is, then you can see that with this idea you get a lot more of it.

Above all else though, let’s be honest… any system that encourages a man to eat multiple burgers is just fantastic.

I decided not to mix it up too much as it was my first time: three cheeseburgers with everything on:

I am in love. We left and, as is par for the course, headed for Jim’s Tap again (we did, after all, have the Round-The-World challenge to crack on with.) Brookings looked pretty on the way there:

Following on from yesterday’s three drinks…

Drink Four: Japan. Big can of Sapporo lager.

Drink Five: Canada. Bottle of Moosehead Lager… it was pretty bland, and slightly skunked from being left for too long in the green glass bottle. Still, as the Welsh saying goes; “there’s no such thing as bad beer – but some’s worse than others.”

Drink Six: Ireland. This was just a pint of draft Guinness. Standard.

Drink Seven: Germany. There were a few choices here, but we decided upon Beck’s Dark. It started off strange, but got more enjoyable the more we drunk. The taste isn’t a million miles from regular Beck’s, but it has a distinctly malty aftertaste and is actually pretty damn good.

Drinks eight and nine weren’t photographed due to inebriation and the fact they’re not particularly impressive. The Czech Republic gave us a bottle of Budweiser Budvar, and the Netherlands’ offering was a bottle of Heineken. Having already made the decision to finish the challenge that night, we proceeded to the last country…

Drink Ten: England. I have no idea what this was. It was a pint of a beer they have on draft, called “Monty Python’s Holy Gr-Ale.” The pump even has the castle/chalice moniker of the film. Not sure what the gravity was, or who brews it, or whether or not it’s even from England. In any case, ending the Round-The-World beer challenge with a pint called “the Holy Gr-Ale” seemed way too appropriate to pass up.

Following completion of the challenge, we received our rather fetching t-shirts…

…and spoke to an extremely drunk guy who was also called Chris:

Another funny thing that happened that night: when I first went to use the bathroom (which you will remember from yesterday’s analysis), I walked in on a guy sat on the toilet. I gave him five minutes and went back in. Now, there is a blackboard above the urinal on which men write messages and draw boobs all night. I decided to leave the guy a message of apology, to at least try and make amends for catching him in such a position. He replied later in the night…

…and in two words, completely settled my conscience. Pub culture is the best culture.

Both drunk, we walked home, and I’ll leave you today with a picture of an especially charming sign I saw on the way.

Day Ten: Brookings, South Dakota

I’m aware I’ve fallen behind on the blog… I’m trying to catch up… as a result, I’ll gloss over the largely uninteresting parts. This blog entry is also fairly wordy owing to the fact that I forgot to take my camera to Wal-Mart.

—————————————————————————

After a long lie in following 9 hours on the road, Steph took me to Guadalajara – a local Mexican restaurant. Firstly, they started us off with real tortilla chips:

Then came our food. I got a chicken enchilada and beef taco combo, which came with brown rice, salad and refried beans:

By the way, that fluorescent green hot sauce is one of the best hot sauces I have ever had. I’m bringing some back to the UK with me, for sure. We also saw a rabbit on the way home (although he doesn’t show up too well on this photo)…

…then chilled out with my new roommate for a while. We get along well, probably because we’re both big fellas. (although those are Steph’s legs… but you get the idea, he is a huge cat.)

Next, we had to go to Wal-Mart to do a big grocery/cookware shop. This was an incredibly traumatic experience for me. A few things I learnt about food in the USA:

1) They don’t get squash, as in the drink. They don’t even get something similar – the closest they have is this powder that you add to water to make a drink. No such thing as Robinson’s Barley Water or High-Juice over here. These kids made it through life without Kia Ora.

2) If you can think of a thing, there’s a good chance they have a different word for it. Everyone knows the obvious ones (pavement/sidewalk, 4×4/SUV etc.) but it shocked me just how widespread it is. Never go to America and ask for caster sugar, demerara, sultanas, plain flour, gammon, mature cheddar, Irn Bru, coriander, herbs, basil, pasta, oregano, or pretty much anything ever, unless you want to be made fun of or greeted with a look of confusion.

3) Wal-Mart is the largest supermarket chain in the states… each store is about 3x the size of Asda or Tesco Extra. However, they do not sell spirits. Wine and beer, yes, but not “hard liquor.”

We stopped off at Dairy Queen on the way home, only this time I got a small Blizzard, but I think it’s still too much ice cream. After cooking dinner, I met Steph’s friend Emma for the first time and we headed for the pub. On the way we passed Nick’s Hamburger Shop…

…which I have completely fallen in love with, and Boss’ pizza…

…which is nowhere near as boss as its name suggests.

And then we arrived at Jim’s Tap, which from what I can gather tries to be a medieval British pub but ends up coming across a little German. Either way, the selection of beer isn’t bad for a US pub (Newcastle Brown and Bass on draft, even if they are served ice cold in frozen glasses) and the price is right. Mixed drinks are ridiculous – a Jameson’s and Coke, for example, is pretty much a huge glass of Jameson’s and a splash of Coke. No joke. The sign above the door was funny…

…because I wasn’t aware that most bars offer waiter service over here.

Steph wanted us to do Jim’s “Round-The-World” challenge. For $48, you get a punch card which entitles you to one beer from each of the ten countries on the card. When complete, you get a t-shirt. It seemed like a cool idea, so we made a start:

Drink One: Australia. This was a big can of Foster’s (25.4oz/750ml/wine bottle size).

Drink Two: Denmark. The choice was Amstel, Carlsberg, or “Elephant.” Naturally, I went for the Elephant and was dismayed to discover that it was a Carlsberg beer anyway. That said, it was a little over 7% ABV in gravity, which worked out pretty well.

Drink Three: Mexico. Negro Modelo. Totally forgot to take a picture, but it was good, if a little heavy. It rounded the night off nicely, in any case.

To close, I would like to show you the men’s bathroom of Jim’s. This is it;

There is no lock on the door, and there is no toilet paper, so there’s no real use for the toilet, right? It both confuses and offends me.

Day Nine: Road trippin’

I’ll start with an admission; I am not a morning person. This is why I think that all hotels/hostels should follow the same rule as the University Inn in Minneapolis, and have check-out at noon. Even then, we only just made it in time, but I was spurred on by knowing that our first port of call was Denny’s. I know Americans tend to view it as a bit scuzzy and crappy, but I love Denny’s breakfasts. As it had been a while since I last had one, and I was really hungry, I went for the Lumberjack slam:

Two sausages, two strips of bacon, a slice of ham, hash browns, two eggs (scrambled, with cheese), two slices of toast, two pancakes, coffee.

The waiter asked jokingly if we “had enough food,” which I took as a challenge. I ate the lot and got a refill on the coffee. Foolish man, doubting my eating abilities. Oh, and this cracked me up:

The sign says “leave at 74, do not change.” Someone done goofed.

We paid up and hit the road, and I got my first experience of driving through the midwest. It’s pretty incredible…

Gaylord. *snicker*

We broke the journey in a little town called New Ulm. I didn’t take many pictures, and I don’t know why, because it’s a really cool little place. We went to a locals’ bar and drank the local brew; Schell. The brewery is just on the outskirts of town, so we drank up and drove to the brewery to take the tour – as it happened, the tour only runs in season, but we still looked around the gift shop. Steph got me a Grain Belt (iconic Minnesota beer) t-shirt, and we each got Grain Belt branded Rubik’s cubes. I asked the woman if I could have it for free if I solved it, but no dice. On the way out, we stopped at the “Eagle Roller Mill Company” because not only was the building cool, but the warehouse next to it has “Welcome to New Ulm” on it in big letters. Observe:

More photos of New Ulm:

Here’s some photos from the Schell brewery:

They had customised bricks, but we messed up the photo:

They also had a peacock…

…but I was dreadful at trying to sneak up on it:

*sniggers*

We didn’t take too many photos from then on, because we were too busy getting lost and driving thirty miles in the wrong direction (and of course, thirty miles back.) We crossed the state line into South Dakota, and then stuff got creepy.

The approach to Brookings (where Steph lives) is surrounded by wind turbines and radio towers, and due to there being a few local airfields, they are all equipped with flashing red lights. As we were approaching by night, we were surrounded by miles and miles of pitch black flat farmland… and loads of these weird lights all blinking in unison. We put War of the Worlds on and creeped ourselves out for the last half an hour of the five hour drive (that took close to nine hours with stops and detours). I tried getting a video, but it was pretty unsuccessful.  You can see the lights, but you just don’t get the spine-tingling feeling:

We got home and drank some of the Bell’s Two-Hearted ale we’d stopped for before leaving Minnesota, then watched half of Sweet & Lowdown and went to sleep.

Goodnight, South Dakota.

Day Eight: The Big One

 

The alarm went off at 7am, which is a cruel time for anyone to get up in my opinion. I was incredibly excited for what was happening today, but at the same time there was also a lot of me wanting to hit snooze and get another ten minutes sleep. There was a pot of coffee going, but my stomach was in all sorts of bother…

1) It was still working off the Salt Lick BBQ from the day before.
2) It was still processing the amount of Real Ale’s “Oktoberfest” beer I had drunk on Saturday night.
3) I was going to meet Steph in a few hours.

I managed to rouse myself and showered. I packed my stuff up, then said goodbye to Echoe and Canyon as they left for school, and said goodbye to Steve as he left for work. Around 8am we loaded up the car and Anna drove me to the airport. It was definitely a bittersweet moment as we pulled up to the curbside baggage drop, not at all helped by the fact that Landslide by Stevie Nicks was playing over the airport tannoy.

As I went through the security checks, a security guard pointed straight at me. I froze – after the trouble I had getting over here, my thought was “oh great, here we go again.” I walked towards him, resigned to my fate, and he just says; “NICE!!” It turns out that he was pointing to my Journey shirt. I love Texas.

My stomach was still doing cartwheels. I had a quick Skype with my friend Jamie, and then the flight boarded a few minutes late:

The flight itself was horrendous – never have I experienced so much turbulence, and when I have a knot in my stomach the size of a breezeblock it only makes things worse.

So then we landed, and I walked off the plane, down the concourse towards baggage claim, and got on the escalator down. I could see the door at the bottom; on the floor was a line saying “DO NOT CROSS,” so I knew this was where Steph would be waiting… and sure enough, there she was.

The next hour or so was a blur, that’s all I can say. I know we got lost on the way to the hotel (hence “hour;” it should’ve taken ten minutes). There are, however, photos of the approach to Minneapolis:

Oh, and we saw “DA GOOF” apparently:

This is the hotel room:

And this is the view from the hotel room:

Cool, isn’t it? We dumped our stuff, and left for Mall of America, the main focal point being the Nickelodeon Universe theme park:

Sorry about it being blurry; I was excited for the rollercoasters. There was also the ferris wheel…

…and I kicked Steph’s arse on the Ghost Blasters ride…

…and after going on pretty much every ride in the park, we went for beer and steak at the Cadillac Ranch restaurant. Apart from their delicious steak…

…they also offer free mechanical bull rides:

We left and drove back to the hotel, then walked four blocks to the Kitty Cat Club bar for beer.

(Well, truth be told, we walked four blocks to the bar, then the tosser at the door wouldn’t let me in without a passport – something about not accepting foreign driving licenses, so we walked four blocks back to the hotel to get my passport then walked back to the bar again.)

Aside from being a big hipster hangout, the place was really cool. It had a vibe somewhere between the Shipping Forecast in Liverpool, and an antiques shop. It is known for having one of the oldest photo booths still in operation, which we were both looking forward to – unfortunately, we picked the one day to visit when it decided that it wasn’t in operation and wouldn’t take our money. The place also had a great selection of beer… I had a Leinie Honeyweiss and a Grain Belt Premium, Steph had a Bell’s Two-Hearted and an Anchor Steam Beer. Every other person in there was drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon ‘tallboys,’ of course… oh, apart from one woman who as drinking a can of Strongbow, which she was pouring over ice in a glass. That cracked me up. A few photos:

Also… ELVIS PINBALL:

They kicked us out just shy of 2am, so we walked back to the hotel and crashed out.

All told, not a bad first date.

Day Seven: Recovery

After the happenings of the night before, we were all feeling pretty awful. Basshole and Jennifer spent the night on the sofa (not together, natch), where everyone congregated and ate breakfast tacos courtesy of Mr. Bigfoot. It helped, but it wasn’t enough, so after Basshole left to battle through the four-hour drive home to Houston, we went to the Salt Lick BBQ. You may remember it from this:

Yeah, that’s where we went…

Brisket, turkey, sausage and ribs, with potato salad, coleslaw and barbecue beans. That did the trick.

The drive home was incredible – we took a different route specifically to show me the view over the Texas hill country. There’s one part where you get to the crest of a big hell, and the scenery just opens out in front of you. It’s spectacular:

After we got home, we more or less just slobbed around on the sofa. Some broke off for a nap, others stayed and watched The Dukes of Hazzard which was on TV. I saw the Dukes of Hazzard: The Reunion for the first time, which was all at once a big deal and remarkably shite. I tried breaking it up by sitting out on the deck and just taking it all in, but unfortunately it was too warm for me:

Just before bed, I said one last farewell to a good friend I’d made – “Momma Kitty”:

In case you were wondering, she’s called Momma Kitty on account of the fact she’s had three litters.

Day Six: When it’s time to party we will party hard.

Seeing as this was an all-day party, I’m just going to caption the photos. It started with Echoe’s birthday party, which then morphed into the grown-up party from about 6pm onwards.

Party food. L-R pig in blankets (they’re actually closer to sausage rolls, not like what the UK calls pigs in blankets), tortilla pinwheels, apple cake, tortilla chips and homemade salsa and queso:

Echoe’s birthday pudding – instead of a cake, she wanted banana pudding:

It was hot:

Basshole from the Lips board turned up, and brought with him the Flaming Lips gummy skull…

…and gummy fetus:

Non-Lips meet-up! L-R basshole (Alan), Johnny Fever (Charles), parsons love child (Anna), JenniferP (foreground), I saw Bigfoot once (Kevin), Oh My Gawd!!! (Me)

The same again, but with whimrocker coming in through satellite feed (/Skype). Oh, and no Jennifer. She was passed out:

It got messy, and the pace proved too much for Jennifer and Kevin:

Unfortunately, a Sharpie turned up:

And at the end of the night, the cooler was empty.

Day Five: Let’s go to Luckenbach, Texas

After a solid twelve hours of sleep (a much-needed catch-up for everyone), I got up bright and early at around 9am. Steve loaded up the boat, and after stopping for petrol and a breakfast burrito we made our way to Canyon Lake.

We seemed to pick the perfect time to go, too… the lake was pretty smooth sailing, there weren’t too many boats around, and it was as warm as bathwater to swim in. Which we did. A few photos:

You can see how bad the drought is – look at where the water level usually is:

Yours truly at the helm:

Hell yeah! Oh, and just because this is foreign to me on so many levels…

After driving back to Blanco and dropping off the boat, we picked up Anna and drove out to Bar None Ranch to shoot some guns… but first, look at this place.

So onto the guns. Didn’t get any pictures of the pistol, but here’s one of the hunting rifles:

In shooting this gun, I learnt that 12 guage shells cause one hell of a recoil. Shoulder pain. We worked our way up to the assault rifle…

…which you can also set up to use lying down…

…which makes you feel especially cool. And improves your aim drastically. Here’s some videos:

BOOYA. Oh, and in case I wasn’t American enough yet:

Look at the size of this thing!! I’m 6’2″ and it’s taller than me, and in theory I could drive this on my license. Everything really is bigger in Texas.

When we got home we ordered take-out Mexican food from El Charro, which was so good I forgot to take a picture. Two chicken enchiladas, a beef taco, brown rice, guacamole, refried beans, and a lot of corn chips with hot sauce, salsa and queso. It was gooooood.

So then, we went to Luckenbach, Texas, although there was no sign of Waylon, Willie or the boys. (If that didn’t make sense to you, clicky clicky.)

It’s really in the middle of nowhere. They even sell bumper stickers that say “I got lost looking for Luckenbach.” This is the first thing you see:

The funny thing is, once you’re in, you can buy a beer and walk around the general store-cum-gift shop, or the dance hall, and it’s fine.

Bar:

General store:

And a load more photos and video from Luckenbach:

I even signed the guestbook. There’s a saying; “Everybody’s somebody in Luckenbach.” Hence…

I missed out the part where we went to the aforementioned Real Ale Brewery… didn’t really do much but hang out and drink beer, but we also stocked up. There’s an all-day party happening tomorrow at Anna’s house. Do you think we’re prepared?

That’s a good place to end.

Day Four: That’s What I Love About Texas

Waking up slowly, it dawned on me after a few minutes just how hungover I was. Bud Lite is indeed pisswater, but apparently it gets you drunk, and leaves you with a mother of a hangover. Owing to this, a lazy day was had. We bummed around watching bad TV, then we enjoyed a hearty breakfast of Kraft Macaroni Cheese. I was too hungover to operate a camera, so this is from Google Images, but still…

OMNOMNOM.

After more bumming around, Anna had to pick Echoe up from school and we stopped by Dairy Queen on the way home. I had my first Blizzard of the trip:

So good. UK people; it’s basically a McFlurry, but there’s a much greater variety of stuff you can put in it. I went with Oreos. Oh, and it’s HUGE. I got a “medium” and it was the same size as a large Coke in McDonald’s. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but trust me, it’s too much. Didn’t stop me from eating it all though. That’s what I love about Texas. (Dairy Queen actually originated in Illinois, but who’s counting?)

The night was rounded out by seeing my first American football game ever (apart from the Superbowl this year), Blanco High School Vs Sonora High School, 8th graders. Canyon, #51, was playing mostly defence and even got his name read out at one point after a particularly heroic tackle. Honestly, being “sat in the bleachers at a high school football game” was an experience enough as it was, but then Blanco beat Sonora 38 – 0. BOOM. I took a few photos too, natch:

I’ll close with the only appearance of the Blanco Panthers’ mascot…

He even missed the half-time show, despite a call over the tannoy for the mascot. No doubt he’ll be off to the taxidermist’s tomorrow, getting a bottle-opener up the jacksie.