Oh Marfa. What a weird, strange little town you are.
We arrived on a Tuesday, starving, dusty and very ready for a cold drink… and after going door to door of recommended lunch spots, found that for some reason nearly everything is closed Monday through Wednesday. So we drove around looking for cool/ odd things, peered through windows and searched around a goodwill shop owned by an old lady who seemed both bewildered and disgusted by our presence while we waited for our only bar option of the day to open for the afternoon.
Margaritas at El Paisano Hotel brightened our moods a whole bunch and we had an overall awesome afternoon finally getting a little color on our pale pale skin.
(I picked up this new sandalwood mala and it smells like he-a-v-en)
(pistachio-crusted mushroom burger with avocado and parmesan fries)
We decided that Marfa is an unnerving combination of twilight zone and movie set and while I wouldn’t say the residents of Marfa are the friendliest, what they lack in personality, they make up for in style: I love the quirky shops, art installations, fascination with the mysterious marfa lights, rundown buildings, excellent signage, and wondering who on earth moves to Marfa and why!
I also found my new favorite sentence…
Shit happens, rama rama.
Thanks for the laughs, Marfa– we’ll be back.
See Kate’s take here and for moment to moment updates: