Next stop: Mariposa, cowboy town. At each and every inscription in the city faithfully used a wedge

Diner's mythical point of American premise identity: unpretentious restaurant with a typical "American" food, guided streams of coffee and a relaxed atmosphere where everyone should feel at home. "I'm very sorry, but I do not believe in dinerje," I trust Canadian Magdi. Since I live in Madison, I never once encountered a "real one". "Of course not, because we are in Madison too progressive," said Magda. "Here, eat healthy and organic. But if you go north Wisconsin ... "Yeah, I was there as well. "Then you're not looking enough," he believes. A precisely the point: premise if I have to put on your head to find a diner, then this has not representative premise of the American experience! "No, not really. They are everywhere, but you can not see, "says Magda. And if Madison is not the place to look, this is perhaps the California State solitary horsemen, bronzed surfers, many American experience - and perhaps even dinerjev?
By Magda we drive through premise the central part of California, of the National Park Yosemite towards the coast. Hilly landscape is covered with layers of dried yellow grass and gray sandy soil - in the golden plains barely survive some tough shrub or tree bony. Except premise for trucks and some tourists on the road is not one. Stop before a small gas station. Disinterested stay in the car while my companion to me energetically knocking on the window. "I can not even believe you're not impressed - those who constantly want an American experience!" What? "This is yet americana!" Shows the hand against the wooden premise house. What? Americana? Tale gas station to be embodied a nostalgic atmosphere of the first pioneers and the irrepressible spirit premise of the horsemen of the road? Confused out of the car and take a close look at the environment. Listening to the crickets, I notice a dry pathway premise from the orange soil, smell the pine trees, feel the tight embrace of sultry air, secrecy empty road in anticipation of distant cars. Americana? If the gas station would not be built of wood, have sworn that I was in Herzegovina, or at least the hinterland of Dalmatia. premise Magda turning with eyes. In addition, I did not recognize the Americans did I miss yet toothless old woman who has sold a piece of dried meat. The hand holds a thin, hard, purples and not very hygienic, without packaging or wrapping. I admit that it really looks like from some western. premise
Next stop: Mariposa, cowboy town. At each and every inscription in the city faithfully used a wedge typography, typically WESTERN. Huge parking lot (anywhere without premise a car!) And low building in the shape of a rectangle, it is a pawnshop, accessories for tractors, animal food ... At the time of retail chains do not find more obscure local shops, it impresses my companion. "This is a real American city! Here you will find a diner! "In the first trade, in which get advice, premise selling organic food (" It's just for tourists! "Says Magda), a saleswoman enthusiastically ensures that knows exactly what we are looking for: real, traditional, authentic American diner. It is found in another premise parking lot and everything is as it should be. Debt bar counter, open kitchen behind the counter and round bar stools premise in front of him, soft leather seats with tables by the window, black-and-white tiles on the floor ... But something premise is not right. Perhaps the fact that the seats are completely unworn that the color red leather fashion too, the waitress too sophisticated. Look at the menu confirms suspicions: New York steak on a bed of nevemčesa for $ 20. We stray into a tourist trap. "Ah, you should know as soon as I saw for the first table type with iPad!" Sighs companion.
According to the hills following the desolate plain. In certain parts of California using efficient irrigation systems and the results are miraculous: a lush grove Pistachio green and gray frustrating error in the middle of the earth. premise But nothing on the outskirts of Merced. Over endless plains are pulling railway line in her husky freight train. On one side of the road warehouse, on the other rusty box in which lies the self-service shop. Neon sign "open" great advertisement for cheap cigarettes, cracked pavement, burning sun. I swear I hear the creaking premise of the door silently in the wind and the buzzing Tarantino behind the camera. Are you imagining? Probably, the door is closed. The shop concrete floor, empty walls and three types of semi-empty shelves: a few cans, Mexican spices, tortillas, two kinds of wine, two types of beer. From the ceiling hung a Mexican paper decorations in bright yellow, pink and blue, with the head of Mickey Mouse, glued in the middle. The dark charmer Grula in the direction of the young Mexican behind the counter; Do not mind us. That's it, we finally got into the authentic heart of Americana, which is ... actually Mexican ?! "Yeah, so what?" Cold deter my companion.
In the bilingual journal devoted to the Mexican community, discover many American success stories of the Mexican First Latinoameričanka won the title of best Kalifornijke! Young Mexican ended the practice in the office of Democratic deputy, now inscribed degree in Political Science! The daughter of Mexican workers won a scholarship and described her academic motivation: "I premise hate to work in the field!" Nal