Hays County, Texas

The Texas heat is incredible. Heading south I thought I'd done well to prepare myself for it. In reality I'd done nothing of the sort. Earlier in the trip I'd checked the national weather map and seen Austin, my intended destination, highlighted in the mid 30's (Celsius). El Paso, on the Mexican border to the west, was above 40 and blocked in the deepest red the colour coding could handle.

In time you can tolerate it but you can never truly acclimatize. Just wandering in the shade or stepping out into the sun for a few minutes you lose the will to do anything. The mind turns to mush and what meager thoughts you can muster usually run along the lines of "does it have a pool, and can I get a drink?"

The locals, sensing my vulnerability to the sun’s harsh glare would frequently ask how I was finding it, but they too couldn't fail to be hypnotized by the heat. They would speak of the impending months (temperatures wouldn't peak until August) with a genuine sense of foreboding. Heat like this can kill.

Texas being hot wasn't exactly a revelation but this part of the state was full of surprises. Austin, the state capital, is regarded as one of the most liberal cities in America. Known as the “live music capital of the world” it is also one of the most desirable, with an ever-growing demand to live among the bohemian chic. In one typically upscale bar, the most ordinary flavoured beer I could find was apricot. What happened to whisky and spittoons?

The city's motto is "keep Austin weird" and the place has quaintly been described as the “blueberry in the tomatoes”, in reference to its Democratic stronghold in a sea of Republican dominance. This was true in part in Hays County, an expanding suburban area just outside the city, where I would be living and working for a week for the Hays Free Press.

There was even talk here of the Democrats stealing a majority in the state senate at the next election. It remains unlikely but the fact that it is even considered in Texas would surprise many casual observers of American politics.

Just like everywhere else I'd been in America, presumptive Democratic nominee Barack Obama was, by some margin, the candidate with the most visible support. Down the road in Lockhart I'd eaten at a famous barbeque house that used to segregate customers depending on their racial orientation. Yet here we had a black Presidential candidate backed by apparent swathes of Texans.

I was invited along to see a book signing in Austin by President Bush's former Press Secretary Scott McClelland. The air conditioning was bound to be good there I thought. The Austin old boy revealed his disillusionment with the current administration, as he patiently answered questions for a good two hours.

One thing he said struck me however. He told his audience how he felt so overwhelmingly hopeful when he joined the President's campaign, a man he still admires personally. He also expressed the opinion that during his time as Texas Governor and the presidential race of 2000, his former bosses rhetoric for change was similar to that of Obama’s today.

A great deal of the population appear to hold out such great hope for the Illinois Senator, a man whose policies I don't profess to know too much about. With an understated dignity, he seems to have captured the imagination and engineered an upsurge in confidence for the coming years. Are the American people wrong to put such blind faith in someone who may follow a similar path to his predecessor? Or would it be worse still to lose faith with the democratic process altogether? It was something to ponder while I stuffed frozen peas down my trousers.

Away from my time at the paper, where rising gas prices continued to dominate the agenda, I mostly showed the sun my full respect and took things easy. It was a delight to while away a lazy afternoon 'tubing' on the San Marcos River, enjoy the good company and keep an eye out for the exotic local wildlife – much of which could be easily located on the side of the highway. Deer and cattle roamed in numbers and critters like armadillos and Copperhead snakes lurked in the foliage. The stars may not have been as big and bright as I’d hoped but the sight of lightning electrocuting the night sky more than made up for it. You need a second take to absorb what had just flashed before you and it would usually oblige with greater fervor.

Stereotypes of American culture continued to go by the wayside, and some, like the prevalence of cowboy hats, happily remained. What stood true of Texas was the warmth and hospitality to which I had been fortunate enough to grow accustomed.