The Outsider’s Guide To Austin, Texas
Maybe it’s because this city’s love language is food?
Maybe because it’s isolated, slap-bang in the middle of Texas… a state bigger than most countries?
Maybe it’s because, right now, it’s as hot n’ humid as a rainy day in hell?
Whatever the reasoning, compared to its nearest siblings – Houston & Dallas – Austin is so laid back, it’s horizontal.
Case in point, The White Horse bar. Halfway between a honky-tonk cowboy bar and a dive bar, when we arrive the place is being soundtracked by a really old, really Texan cowboy. Hammering out the honky tonk on a tired looking upright piano.
We get a cold, Mexican beer from the bar and take a seat at a table on the edge of a very empty dance floor. Towards the end of the beer a band start setting up on the stage in the corner.
Halfway through the next beer, they strike a chord and, presumably invoked into existence by the sound of bluegrass fiddle, the dancefloor immediately fills.
Guys ask girls to dance. Girls ask girls to dance. Trans people two step with old, white cowboys. People of all colours and creed take each other by the hands and sway to the band.
Tonight The White Horse is a microcosm of all Austin''s best qualities.
Love. Acceptance. Romance.
It’s also famously weird. Yes, yes… Willie Nelson, Janis Joplin and the Butthole Surfers are all from here, but it’s not just famous weirdos who have helped make the city a throwback to
Afterall, only the best type of weirdos would be treading the dancefooe at 7PM on a mercilessly hot Tuesday night. Try finding that in London, Paris or New York.
Legs tired from dancing, at 1AM we hit Jewboy Sliders’ food truck on East 6th (yes, owner Mo Pittle is jewish). The ‘sliders’ are as big as a British burger and – holy moly – they’re delicious. We eat six, crash into bed. Until tomorrow, Texas.
East 6th
Every weird city needs an epicentre for the artists and the freaks. And East 6th Street is Austin’s.
The empty lots between late frontier-era buildings have become home to some of Austin’s most revered food trucks, casually knocking out some of the best food you’ll ever taste.
God bless anyone who’s willing to stand in a tin can food truck and fire up the grills in a Texan summer.
Meanwhile, in the surrounding graffiti-clad bricks and mortar, there are recording studios, coffee roasters, music venues and restaurants. All offering a brief respite from the pounding double act of humidity and heat.
We visit Mexican breakfast spot and bakery, Cisco’s, twice. Because it’s that damn good. The breakfast tacos are made with love by a lady who sings along to Mexican folk music, while a customer in chain-wrapped cowboy boots eats tacos at the counter.
FOOD AT CISCOS HERE?
PLACE
Name here - wise man once told me the camera eats first, no it damnwell doesn’t
FOOD
01/01/000
PLACE
Name here - wise man once told me the camera eats first, no it damnwell doesn’t
FOOD
01/01/000
PLACE
Name here - wise man once told me the camera eats first, no it damnwell doesn’t
FOOD
01/01/000
Downtown
Yes, there’s the financial district. And yes, there’s the capitol building. Great if you’re a banker or a bureaucrat. But, for decent people, there’s still a reassuring amount of weirdness to be found in the the heart of the city.
Take the Texas Toy Museum & Arcade for example, highly recommended for anyone who’s ever been a child. Once the private collection of former school teacher, Caleb Zammit, the place boasts a gargantuan toy collection and - once you’ve bought your ticket - free arcade machines.
I repeat, free arcade machines.
If you don’t leave feeling like a kid again, I’ll give you your money back.
(I won’t).
On a cowboy-looking high street, with a cardboard cutout city skyline behind it, lurks the Museum of the Weird.
And yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like.
From two-headed taxidermied chickens, to plaster cast imprints of Big Foot’s tracks, there’s a lot of weirdness to take in across the museum’s three rickety floors.
If peering into cabinets of curiosities, while slowly questioning reality is your thing, you’re going to have a lovely time here.
BBQ
In the smokehouse to the side of legendary local BBQ spot, Terry Blacks, the temperature is approaching one million degrees. Maybe.
The smokeman opens lid of the offset smoker, palpably upping the temperature by few more degrees. Enough for me to understand, for a moment, what hell must feel like.
Texas is the undesputed BBQ capital of the world. But even by Texan standards, Austin is considered to be a cut above the rest.
Yes, Franklin’s is nice. But, it may not come as a surprise that it’s not locals queueing for 3 hours in the blazing Texan sun to eat there. It’s tourists.
And we’re not tourists… we’re travellers
Man who looks like a wrestler arrives in blue and red flame painted truck optimus prime truck and vest that says ‘body build from beef rib’. He orders four of the rib I order. For himself.
find photo of me eating caveman rib before and after
Client
Name here
Year
01/01/000
Not BBQ
Austin’s recognition for BBQ has, somehow, left food lovers hungry for more. God damn, we’re a greedy bunch, aren’t we?
Yeah, we came here for the BBQ. But we stayed for the tacos. And the sushi. And the ice cream. And the… you get the idea.
Even the salads are, in the right places, absolutely unreal.
I’ve said it before, but Austin’s love language is food, which may be why there are an ungodly amount of world-class restaurants, food trucks and cafes here.
For reference, I ate out three times a day. Every day. For the entire duration I was there. And barely made a dent in the list of places I wanted to visit.
Dress for the job you want
No one - and I mean, no one - gives a shit what you wear in Austin.
So, you might as well make the most of it. The city is littered with god-tier thrift shops, boot shops and general cowboy accessory stores.
So, y’know, dress for the job you want.
Get weird
As someone who took Charles Bukowski’s line 'find what you love and let it kill you’ to heart, I made sure I had business to attend to in Austin.
God forbid I take an actually holiday.
The business, mercifully, involved attending Brick Rodeo, a mind-blowing showcase of ability from those who choose to express themselves through LEGO bricks.
Year-to-year, the convention flips between Austin and Houston. And allow me to say, it’s a good job it wasn’t Houston’s turn to host as, this weekend, the city becomes the unwilling recipient of hurricane Beryl, plunging over three million Houstonians into darkness.
By the time it reaches Austin, Beryl is a shadow of her former self. The rain momentarily clears some of the stuffiness from the air and the parched trees breathe a sigh of relief.
Client
Name here
Year
01/01/000
Explore the damn city
If you’ve read this far, thank you. Sincerely. I wrote millions of words as a journalist and many more since. Yet still, I write with the presumption that ‘no one is going to read this’.
In some cases it’s probably true. But in others, it’s a forcefield against judgement and accountability. A placebo to write honestly and unfiltered… it’s the exact same mentality of doing something because you have nothing to lose.
Dance like nobody’s watching. Write like nobody’s reading.
Anyway. My final and parting pearl of wisdom for Austin - and in fact, all great cities - is… walk around.
Yes, it’s obvious. And yes, walking around in Texas in July is borderline madness. But it is the only way to truly get the measure of a city’s character.
By all means, Uber from district to district (I’m not a sadist). But, for the love of god, tread the streets between the coffee shops and the dive bars.
Talk to strangers. Hear their stories. Grow.
If you’re travelling and only speaking to people when you need something, my friend, you are missing the point of being there.
Below, are photos of things that aren’t on tourist maps. There are no Google or Yelp reviews to hold your hand. They’re just moments
