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Few people outside the US have ever heard of the Texas Hill Country, a beguiling corner of America where the Deep South meets the Southwest. A vast limestone uplift that rises west of the cities of Austin and San Antonio, it is a paradise of evergreen oak forest, waterfalls and rivers, and great, domelike granite outcroppings. The region gives the lie to most peoples' perceptions of Texas as a flat, dry, scrubby wasteland. That landscape does exist, way out in west Texas, but here in the Hill Country, the landscapes are gentle and heart-breakingly beautiful, most especially from March to May, when the wildflowers defy belief. Fields of bluebonnets (similar to bluebells but darker, more intense in colour), red Indian paintbrush, yellow Mexican hats and coneflowers carpet the ground between the trees and fill the air with sweet scent.

For centuries, this upland region has offered cool relief from the heavy heat of the Texas low country. The Comanches summered in these hills, coming together to council and to worship at a vast granite dome called Enchanted Rock - now a state park where you can hike at will, exploring the petroglyphs that they and earlier Indian tribes left behind them. Enchanted Rock is also unsurpassed for armadillo-spotting. Stay to watch the sun go down from the top of the great rock and you'll see several of the little beasts emerge from the forest to dig and snuffle for ants in the grassy areas surrounding the dome. You can walk quite close to them - armadillos are shy but rather stupid - not to mention forgetful. It takes them a while to realise you're there, then another minute or two to identify you as human. Then they panic and scamper off, only to forget after a few paces and start digging for ants again.

You should start your road trip at Austin, the Texas state capital, which lies at the far eastern edge of the Hill Country (about two hours east of Enchanted Rock), and has the best nightlife in the South after New Orleans. The city supports a thriving blues and funk music industry: A&R men from the major record labels cruise Austin's clubs, just as they do in LA or New York. Austin's 6th Street and Warehouse District have more venues per capita than any other city in the USA - or so the Texas tourist literature claims.

Certainly the action is intense - in a laid-back, Texan sort of way, with Mexicans, blacks and whites all crowding into the clubs to see who is going to be the next Stevie Ray Vaughan, Bonnie Rait, ZZ Top or Lyle Lovett - all of them local Austin acts before stardom hit. The Austin Chronicle, a free weekly carries up-to-date reviews of Austin's current bands, and where they're playing, in its live music section. Clubs featuring consistently good shows include the Saxon on South Lamar, the Continental on South Congress and the Steamboat on 6th.

Next day, if your hangover allows, drive up the escarpment along route 29 into the Hill Country to the town of Fredericksburg. Built by Germans in the 1850s (tens of thousands of Germans, Czechs and Poles emigrated to Texas during that decade), it's a handsome, stone-built place with some grand buildings, like a kind of sub-tropical Oxford or Edinburgh. Some of the older folk here still speak German as a first language. Certainly the town is picturesque enough to have become a full-on tourist town, stuffed to bursting with Bavarian themed gift shoppes, ice-cream parlours and bakeries. But it makes a pleasant place to have lunch before driving on to Padernales Falls, where the clear, cool river tumbles over several dramatic shelves of limestone, into deep swimming holes shaded by tall Cypress trees. Make Enchanted Rock for the armadillos at sunset, then loop back to overnight at the Settler's Crossing B&B near Fredericksburg, an early 19th-century Texas estate house shaded by tall live-oaks hung with Spanish moss. Spend the last hour before turning in sitting on the porch sipping bourbon and listening to the tree frogs sing.

Next day, on the way back to Austin, stop in at Hippy Hollow on Lake Travis - Texas' only nude bathing beach (though you can keep your kit on if you don't want to frighten the locals with your blue-white English skin). Back in the 1960s and 70s, Austin was one of the original cradles of the early hippy culture - surprising for a town that produced George Bush, both junior and senior. Hippy Hollow, founded back then against staunch redneck opposition, has since become an insitution. Now it's not just hippies, everyone comes to party, and enjoy the cold water - something that is always at a premium in Texas' relentlessly hot climate. It'll leave you nice and cool for evening margueritas on the rooftop terrace of the Iron Cactus, back on Austin's 6th Street, a short half-hour away.

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