21st Day - March 3, 2022

I wake up a little earlier in the morning and have time to plan the next few days. I'm always about two days ahead. Of course, I've roughly thought about where I want to go, but spontaneous decisions have usually been good and I value this freedom. At this time of year, there's no need to worry about not finding accommodation. I can only remember one incident in Newfoundland when I had to drive 60 km further to look for new accommodation. It's not necessary here.

The breakfast is interrupted by a few children who turn the breakfast room into a playground. Since when don't they have school here? Well, maybe it's because of COVID. Through the window, I see a worker in overalls and cowboy boots. That's probably something you only see in Texas. It looks like it's going to be another sunny day, and the temperatures aren't so low at night anymore. So it's already warm in the morning.

After breakfast, I take my time and organize my things a bit. It's amazing how quickly you can create disorder even with few things. The system of leaving the big suitcase in the car permanently and always repacking the small one only works if you always think ahead about what you need. But unfortunately, I'm not like that. And that's why the chaos has to be cleared away a bit.

I leave at 10:00 am and leisurely drive along the old Route 66, which runs parallel to Interstate 40 again. After a good half an hour, I arrive in Vega. The small Texan town is well maintained, no comparison to Erick yesterday. When I take photos, people in passing cars often greet me. I actually find that very friendly. And I don't think we have that back home.

After less than 15 minutes, I arrive at Midpoint, located in the even smaller town of Adrian. Adrian would probably be completely insignificant if it weren't for this point. It is exactly 1139 miles to Chicago from here, just as it is 1139 miles to Los Angeles. It's like reaching the halfway point of the journey. And that's worth a sign, a gas station, and a café in America. And of course, souvenirs. While taking a photo of the sign, I meet two older bikers. I think they're on a big tour, but they just came from Amarillo. And they're going back there too. There goes Peter Fonda and Easy Rider's dream. Instead, it's just a tiny excursion.

The pie in the café is highly praised in my book. So I order one: Coconut Cream, and enjoy it outside in the sun. The nice older lady tells me to please return the plate. I tell her that I not only do that, but also pay. You always have to pay in advance at gas stations. But here, they are relaxed about it.

The pie, like everything else in the USA, is too big. But it's really delicious. So I eat it obediently, return the plate, and pay. And then I leave this quirky place, which only has the characteristic of being in the middle.

I now switch back to the interstate and drive a little faster to make a small detour to a state park. I'm back in New Mexico now, and the landscape is different again. The fields are gone, there are maybe some cattle on the sparsely vegetated area. Otherwise, it looks like a desert again. When I arrive at a railroad bridge and want to take a photo of it, my iPhone annoys me again. The stupid thing heats up so much in the car that it darkens the screen. I don't know why that is, but they write on the internet that it's really stupid. I think the same. I decide not to leave it on the stand for so long anymore but to put it in a cooler place. Thanks to Apple CarPlay, I don't need the screen anyway.

The state park is nothing special, so I leave soon after. Then it's back on the country roads to Tucumcari. The city is famous because it houses many original Route 66 motels. Of course, they have been modernized now, but the decor is still quite well-preserved. Most of them have an old car parked in front of the door. It was once said that there are 2,000 beds here. But I can't imagine that now.

My travel guide urgently recommends a barbecue, and even though I'm still somewhat satiated from the pie, I don't want to miss out on it. The little joint is a mixture of a corner store, souvenir shop, and barbecue restaurant. I ask the nice old lady what I can have if I'm not really hungry but want to eat brisket. She recommends 1/4 pound and a side dish. I choose mac and cheese. Together with a cookie, the whole thing costs $7.68. And it's the best thing I've ever eaten here.

While I'm eating, quite a few people come to pick up a portion to take home. The place seems to be doing really well. But no wonder, it's quite cheap compared to the prices so far. If I lived here, I would be a regular customer. That's for sure.

I drive the rest of the way to Santa Rosa, where my motel is, on the interstate again. It would have taken me an hour and a half longer on the country roads. Santa Rosa is a small town and therefore doesn't have much to offer. There is supposed to be a good Mexican restaurant here, but I don't feel like it because I'm really full. The town's landmark is the Blue Hole, a 25-meter deep water hole with crystal clear water, which is often used by divers. Today, there's no one there, and I'm the only guest after 10 minutes. According to my smart book, parking costs $10. So I didn't pay anything. It could change in the summer though.

My hotel is the kind where "I park in front of the door". It's very convenient. The room is not as luxurious and tidy, but it's clean. The Indian lady at the reception is extremely friendly and wishes me a good night at 5:00 pm. When her phone rings, the ringtone is the Big Ben chime. I smile and say Big Ben. She looks at me completely puzzled. I say Big Ben in London. She shakes her head in confusion. I give up. Who cares about some bell in England.