To touch on the space itself, Donn’s Depot is immense, a menagerie of rooms carved out of rail cars and tail ceilings, much of it centered around the stage and grand piano found in the main room. An open floor plan interspersed with columns, Donn’s Depot feels like a winding, unfolding story, the stage giving way to the dance floor giving way to the many, many seating areas that line the building. Low tables and chairs capture new views in every corner of Donn’s Depot, many of the tables, like Cook’s, topped by signs reading “Reserved” for regulars with familiar seats they’ve held for decades.
The Donn’s Depot floorplan is almost overwhelming, a sensation multiplied tenfold by the sheer density of holiday decorations covering every possible railing, wall, ledge or flat surface inside. Tracing the original structure is an exercise in deciphering each individual element, a roof here, a railcar there, everything coming together to create something not just Austin-is-weird interesting but wholly unique. Every glance, every walk around the space reveals something new.
It is foolish to attempt to capture Donn’s Depot in a few short paragraphs, the Austin dive bar innately enthralling thanks to its backstory, its people, its meandering, cavernous space. Holiday season or not, the structure provides something fresh with each visit but more importantly so too do the people, the living Donn’s Depot community at home within the walls that have soaked up every tradition, every story, every visitor.
