Tequila, Tunes, and 6th Street Shenanigans: Our Cinco de Mayo in Austin
If youâve never experienced Austin, Texas during Cinco de Mayo, let me paint you a picture: imagine a mariachi band battling a DJ for dominance, tacos flying off food trucks like confetti, and the scent of lime, smoke, and pure joy hanging in the air. Now toss in two of my favorite partners-in-chaosâTara and Wendyâand youâve got the recipe for a weekend that shouldâve come with a warning label.
We rolled into Austin like a trio of caffeinated tumbleweeds, ready to soak up every ounce of music, margarita, and mayhem the city had to offer. Our destination? The legendary 6th Street. If Bourbon Street and a music festival had a baby, it would be 6th Street on Cinco de Mayo.
đ First Stop: Fiesta Mode Activated
We kicked things off at a rooftop bar where the drinks were strong and the views were stronger. Tara ordered something called a âTequila Tsunamiâ that came with a tiny sombrero on the straw. Wendy, ever the rebel, went straight for mezcal and made friends with the bartender in under five minutes. I stuck with a classic margarita, because someone had to be semi-responsible.
The music was everywhereâlive bands spilling out of dive bars, street performers juggling flaming torches, and one guy playing the accordion while rollerblading. Austin doesnât do subtle.
đș Dancing, Dives, and Delicious Chaos
We bar-hopped like it was an Olympic sport. One minute we were grooving to a funk band in a neon-lit dive, the next we were sipping craft cocktails in a speakeasy hidden behind a bookshelf. Tara challenged a stranger to a salsa dance-off (she won), Wendy got pulled into a karaoke rendition of âLivinâ La Vida Loca,â and I somehow ended up wearing a luchador mask for half the night.
We met old friends whoâd migrated to Austin for tech jobs and tacos, and made new ones who swore they were in a band âabout to blow up.â Everyone was in high spiritsâCinco de Mayo in Austin turns strangers into dance partners and bar buddies in seconds.
đź Late-Night Taco Quest
Around midnight, our stomachs staged a protest. We followed the scent of grilled meat and cilantro to a taco truck that looked like it had been blessed by the gods of street food. I had the al pastor with pineapple, Tara went for carnitas, and Wendyâbecause sheâs Wendyâordered one of everything.
We sat on the curb, tacos in hand, laughing until our cheeks hurt. A guy in a cowboy hat serenaded us with a guitar, and someone handed us churros âjust because.â Austin is generous like that.
đ The Morning After (Kind Of)
We woke up in our Airbnb surrounded by glitter, empty cups, and one mysterious sombrero. Our voices were hoarse, our feet were sore, and our hearts were full. Tara swore sheâd never drink tequila again (she did), Wendy was already planning our next trip, and I just wanted breakfast tacos and a nap.
Austin, you beautiful beastâyou gave us music, madness, and memories weâll be laughing about for years. Cinco de Mayo will never be the same.
