The starting gun goes off! Across the border from Mexico and into El Paso

The start of the Guadalupe Mountains
see all photos »

"Thank god! I'm through the border! I'm out of Mexico and back into the United States! I cant believe it! My travels restart right here!"

That was my reaction from finally being let through the border crossing at El Paso/Juarez and being let back into Texas. When the border guard stamped my visa a great weight was let off my shoulders. I was back on course..and ready for more travel.

The visa clerk eventually whispered my name and gave me back my passport. I got another three months and now had to sprint for the border crossing!

It started yesterday. Everyone in Dallas told me that the best way to get a visa extension was to nip over to Mexico and pay for another three months. I wanted the three months to take a leisurely backtracking trip to the Pacific ocean and then back to New York overland to fly home from there. I've been worrying about this for about a week now. I even tried to bury my head in the sand by four days in lovely San Antonio enjoying the Tex Mex food and dodging Mexicans at the Alamo to put it off. But yesterday I rolled off the overnight Greyhound and made my way to the border. I debated to leave my pack in left luggage at Greyhound but in hindsight I'm glad I didn't.

After checking at tourist information I headed for the border and traversed a road through an industrial estate. There's a colossal traffic pedestrian bridge across the Rio Grande with the Mexican city of Juarez on the other side. I asked one of the guard which way to the visas office and he pointed me to a long queue. When I reached the front I was told I had no visa and would have to apply for a new one. I needed a new visa to enter the United States. I resigned myself to spending the night in Mexico.

Actually, thats not quite fair. Mexico is one of those countries I've always wanted to visit. But on a freezing cold wet November day a grimy border town isn't the most salubrious of places. Not feeling in the best of moods, the pouring rain and shouting taxi drivers did not make a good first impression of the city. So I looked into my guidebook and chose a cheap hotel. The Mexican taxi driver said he will take me there for $5. Hotel Juarez was pleasant enough but cold iat night as it snowed. It was next to a police station on Avenida Juarez so it wasn't too raucous and I was too down to fully explore the fleshpots of Juarez at night.

But I was up at 5.00am that morning and hoisting my backpack was in the queue for visas at the American consulate at 7.00am. After getting a passport photo I was admitted and paid my cash for a new visa and had to provide them with a legitimate reason for wanting one (I showed them my airticket) and settled back with the Mexican families to await the outcome.

It took three hours. After 8.30am they didn't let anyone else in and about 10.30am they started to call out names. The Mexicans first then the foreigners, myself and a French family were last. The visa clerk eventually whispered my name and gave me back my passport. I got another three months and now had to sprint for the border crossing!

But it must be approved by US immigration first. So I joined another long queue in a big room to wait for my name to be called again (difficult about the noise of noisy Mexican children). I was getting very tense. There was a bus leaving for White's City, New Mexico at 1.45pm. The time was now 12.30pm. Eventually they called me and I had to prove I had enough funds to support myself. No problem thanks to my inheritance - then the visa was stamped, I was through the gate, showed the guards my passport.

And I was back in the United States.

No time to waste. A TN&O bus was leaving soon and it was already 1.00pm. I shot up Santa Fe street as fast as my backpacked encumbered back could allow me. Entered the bus station, bought my ticket and clambered on board.  A sigh of relief as we left grimy El Paso and entered the hills of West Texas. I was right to get a visa as there was an immigration checkpoint. One Mexican was taken off the bus.

Then it was up into the Guadalupe Mountains NP. A Latino lad who was sitting next to me pointed out items of interest and a roadrunner shot across our path. The whole area had a windswept remote feel.

The Wild West begins here..