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Jaguar Magazine 01/2017 – American

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Lassen Sie sich elektrisieren in der Frühjahrs-Ausgabe 2017 des Jaguar Magazins: Wir stellen Jaguar's revolutionären I-PACE vor, zeigen digitale Diamanten, die mithilfe neuester 3D-Technologie erstellt werden und freuen uns über Jaguar's Rückkehr in die Formel E. In Schweden entdecken wir im F-PACE die Stadtfluchten nahe Göteborg, die kaum jemand kennt und in Texas lassen wir den F-TYPE SVR mit seinen rund 322 km/h auf die Straße. Es gibt viel zu entdecken in der neuen Ausgabe des Jaguar Magazins!

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An hour outside Dallas, en route to Austin, is the town of Clifton. It is the opposite of Dallas. You’d never know it even existed without a map. A main street runs through the city; it’s a quaint collection of storefronts and a living portrait of postcard Americana. The high point is a coffee shop that was formerly a drugstore, replete with a counter and syrups station. Leaving Clifton en route to Austin, a series of overpasses appeared. In addition to being a fantastic highway cruiser, the F-TYPE SVR is outstanding at making itself heard. Like every other F-TYPE model, this one has the exhaust note that every other car dreams of. Drop down a gear or two and hold the revs somewhere above 3000rpm, release slowly without totally letting off, and a randomized pop-pop-poppop backfire will occur. Every. Single. Time. Pleasantly buffoonish behavior. I am a child. I love this car. Austin’s State Capitol (above left) and Sam Houston who brought Texas in to the United States (below left). The Salt Lick’s famous BBQ (above) H ow do you grapple with what you find in Austin, the state capitol and the center for everything shiny and new about Texas? There are taco trucks with lines snaking matter-of-factly around the corner; coffee shops with protected wi-fi and newly fashioned beards; software companies and the odd festival. The city is growing at a manic pace, but unlike Dallas, from the inside out. Grab a taxi (or a rickshaw) and the driver will casually mutter things about folks moving in and changing the city. Change is natural. Austin is struggling to handle it, never quite sure what is new or great enough. Among all the newness, the Texas State Capitol building remains a gem. The building celebrates its 128th birthday this year. As you peer down South Congress Avenue, staring at downtown, it stands out among the new, glassy buildings being erected by the minute. You begin to wonder how long before it turns modern. At one point, Austin was considered a bastion of liberal expression in the red state of Texas. It has since morphed into something in between the serve-me-now attitude of Silicon Valley and careless outlook of Los Angeles. Although the purpose of this journey was to travel slowly, it was difficult to ignore some of the nation’s highest legal speed limits on the toll roads that surround Austin. Like every F-TYPE, this one has the exhaust note everyone else dreams of *Always follow local speed limits. The F-TYPE SVR barely registers a heartbeat while cruising at 80 mph*. For the full effect, find a few on-ramps and gun it*. Austin is also the city that’s home to Circuit of the Americas, the US home for Formula 1. A pilgrimage here is a must. Take the tour, if you can, or see if you can get in any closer. The road from Austin to San Antonio is short but lonely and seems to last forever. You can jump on the Interstate and cruise for an hour or so and make the connection, or detour along the two-lane backroads. No matter which route you select, the scenery is unremarkable, what with cracking pavement surrounded by decaying brush on either side. The speed limit, however, is still reasonable. About a quarter of the way between the two cities in the hamlet of Driftwood is the Salt Lick, a tabernacle for the barbecue faithful. You smell the hickory and smoke way before your eyes reach the modest shack to the side of FM1826. You can’t drive by it and not stop in—at least, not your first time. Lying about having eaten at the Salt Lick is discouraged. You pull into a dusty parking lot rife with pickup trucks and tall-heeled women and let your nose guide you toward a hickory-tinged blast to the nose and mouth. It’s an olfactory explosion of beef and pork, lovingly simmered, stewed, or roasted to perfection. The atmosphere rivals the best days of summer camp, with picnic tables placed indoors and table service as reliable as you’d expect from a 16-year-old preoccupied with nothing in particular. The food however is to blog or brag about. Here, the accents come back, as do the hats and the no-nonsense disposition. It doesn’t matter if you’ve eaten one, two, or perhaps three meals already. A chopped brisket sandwich and a heap of sour pickles and raw onions goes best with a tall, plastic cup of iced tea. Cash only. Your wallet will be lighter, but not light enough to offset the heavenly intake of meat. Full and happy from the Salt Lick, we head into San Antonio. Drive downtown, park a few blocks from the Alamo, and take a walking tour. To experience what San Antonio really has to offer, drive to Southtown, where colorful buildings more reminiscent of THE JAGUAR 73