Though staying two nights in Dallas, I spent my first day in Dallas and my second day in the nearby town, Fort-Worth, approximately an hour train ride away. The two cities are each very different: Dallas is urbanized whilst Fort-Worth purposely preserves the traditional roots of Texas, its cowboy-culture and its ranch lifestyle, all to provide an almost time-travel experience for visitors craving the early Texan days. 

 

Dallas has an interesting architectural profile. Its buildings produce geometrical patterns in the sky when the sun disappears into the night, illuminating the sky with neon colours and sharp lines. The city moves at a steady pace, not too quick but not too slow. The train line that runs through the city is a free service, which I take as implying an effort on the city’s part to spur its economy on in fear that it would stagnate without such incentives for residents to move around the city. 

 

There is an interesting cultural scene in Dallas, too. Deep Ellum, an area in the north of the city, hosts spoken poetry nights in its book stores, has a variety of quirky bars and trendy restaurants, and provides a lively night life. The Dallas Museum of Art epitomizes the arts and cultural scene of the city. The museum has a very varied collection, including art collections from allcontinents Asia, Americas, Europe and Africa. I visited the Wendy and Emry Collection which was so beautifully presented, replicating exactly how the collection existed in the couple’s own home. Their rooms were reproduced and each item of furniture was placed exactly as the couple had organized it when the items were in their possession. The couple had forged close relationships with Bertrand Russell, Einstein and Winston Churchill, hence it was fascinating to see these relationships emerge in the material items that they had collected. The couple had built up a collection of items from Winston Churchill, including some of his paintings and a cigar box that they kept for his visits. Interestingly, much of the American Art in the museum had been produced by European or British artists who had migrated to the US. The timing of my visit was fortuitous, for the one evening that I spent in Dallas, the museum was hosting its Late Night event that is held just once per month, specifically on the third Friday of each month. The museum kept its doors open for visitors late into the evening and revolved around a particular theme; the theme of the evening I attended was devoted to Mexican art as well as the artist and fashion icon, Frida. The evening drew in an enthusiastic and passionate crowd of Mexican and Hispanic peoples, who would pour out their hearts in patriotic harmony along with the women singing their Spanish songs. Guests channelled their inner Frida, fashioning a dark brown, stencilled uni-brow and lavishly opulent and bold attire. Just as in Austin, there was a strong Hispanic influence, whether that be in the arts or cuisine, and a significant Spanish-speaking population to enjoy it. There were special exhibits, night tours, quirky workshops like woodblock painting, and documentary films held across the museum’s five floors all centering around the theme, as well as live music which had Spanish singers clanking their maracas. 

 

After this cultural feast, I visited a Cajun-Creole restaurant/bar with a Scottish traveller I had met in my Air BnB accommodation. He too had finished his year abroad, but had been studying in Jackson. Inside the bar, the drummer of the jazz band was as energized and outlandish playing his drum set as he was leading the songs with his distinctively croaky voice that was fitting for the bluesy tone of their tunes. He would run behind the bar as he sang, with nothing to amplify his voice except his ferocious lungs, then would launch himself to standing on top of the bar and belt his heart out to people perched over the counter. His band would play popular tunes such as, “I feel good”, and the audience lapped it up, and the saxophonist carried the piece forward like you would expect of any jazz band. As we were walking out of the bar, we passed a small sweet shop I had seen earlier in the daytime. During daylight, I had thought what a small store it was with so little space. I realized that evening that the store front was an illusion, hiding the lively club that sat behind the secret passageway and was protected by two bodyguards. There was definitely something sweet about this building, but it was not of an edible kind. The club was teeming with well-dressed students eager to spend their money on making friends, either with the bar or because of the bar.

 

Fort-Worth was a very unique experience, and would have been somewhat of a cultural shock were it not for the partly contrived reason for its showcasing Texas’ heritage and culture. Graeme and I took the train together, and sat on the seat on the other side of the train was a fat, white Texan man whose white shirt was covered in blood, the elbows stained with deep red circles and the rest covered in splotches. I was partly shocked, partly curious, partly perturbed and partly bemused. He had a very strong Texan accent that meant his words were slurred and his speech broken up incoherently by the deep bellowing of his own laughter. He tells us the reason for his blood-stained shirt was from having fought off a mountain lion. When not fighting off mountain lions, he claimed to have trained 33 alligators like they were pets and had been the victim of 12 rattle-snake bites. He looks across to the Black African women sat across from him and calls out, “We’re all friends here!” as he points to her and compels her to throw a gaze over his way, and then he proceeds to laugh whilst his belly shakes.

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Upon arrival, I walked about 4km to the Stockyard grounds. The grounds are like the Disneyland of Texan ranch lifestyle. The walk was intruded by the rail line running through the rural area. Just as I was close to stepping over the train tracks, the lights flashed red and the barrier lowered in front of me. The train beeped louder and louder until it is deafeningly loud and was passing in front of me. The train was extremely long, and I had been waiting what felt like hours not minutes. Huge Texan cars roared in and out of the Stockyard. Inside, 

 

Graeme and I made our way over to the Rodeo Stockyard stadium intending to buy tickets for the evening concert and decide to take a peek at the stadium. At the entrance, we are told that an afternoon show is about to begin. I request to peer inside before the show and he let us take a quick snoop around. As we are leaving, he hands us two free tickets both to the afternoon show as well as the rodeo that evening, both worth over $20, and he didn’t expect a penny from us! Either we were very very lucky, Texans were very very nice, or Texans really really liked British people! The afternoon show was a mix of skilled cowboys whipping their lassos onto the ground and slicing pencils with their impeccable skills. The cowboys and cowgirls circled their lassos in the air with tremendous skill, creating larger and larger rings, and also using such skills to tie down cattle. This was all whilst majestically riding their horses around the stadium. The rodeo how in the evening, also the only indoor rodeo in the US, was no less impressive and entertaining. The ferocious bulls danced with terrifying force around the ring in the instant they were let loose, as the cowboys attempted to ride this dance using the strength of their core and back – though the adverse impact of the body was visibly worrying as the cowboys would limp after dismounting (or being thrown off) the bull and squint as they caressed their backs.

 

Outside of the ring, the Stockyard grounds provide more entertainment for the eyes, ears and tongue.

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