42 bridges

Oof.  That was a long day.  It was a great day, but a long one, to be sure.  It’s always a little difficult to set an alarm on a vacation, but today, we had to.  We were waiting at 6:45 for a 6:50 pick up in front of our hotel.  We were the second to last couple on a very full busload of people headed from Miami to the last stop on US highway 1, Key West.  The other end of that road is in Maine, so we’ll stick to the southern terminus today.  

We traveled over 42 bridges on the way there and again on the way back.  All I could think of was the scene in True Lies where the bridge to a lesser-known key is out, and Arnold Schwarzenegger pulls Jamie Lee Curtis from a sunroof.  Yeah, our bus wasn’t quite that thrilling.   

But Key West was very cool.  We booked one little excursion and one circulating tour thing while in town, and the first thing we had pre booked was a glass bottom boat out to a section of the local coral reef.  That was really cool.  Cas and I were recounting how many glass bottomed boats we’d been on, and apparently, we’re nearing an expert level for traveling via boats with transparent bottoms.  Still, this one was pretty cool.  For extra points, on the way out to the coral (which is about six miles from the key), we were standing at the top side of the two-tiered boat.  We were looking out at the water, and we both managed to see a pod of dolphins.  There were several fins that surfaced at the same time, arching out of the water together as we looked on.  It was so darn cool.  We heard the tour guide on the intercom tell folks to look where we had just seen the whole bunch of these guys, but we saw them before that happened, and like any naturally occurring bit of amazing wonder, they vanished from view about two seconds after being acknowledged by a tour guide.  

That trip was very cool but when it ended, we were pretty hungry.  We wandered a little bit and landed at a pretty fancy place with a nice patio for shade and people watching.  We had mango mojitos, a plump crab cake, some fish tacos, and something for dessert.  What was that dessert?  Gosh, so forgettable.  Except how it was the most amazing key lime pie ever.  The slice was enormous, but I still felt like Cas and I were both very careful to get our allotted half of the slice.  I am quite fond of him, but he wasn’t gonna get a bite from my half- not on my watch.  I think that feeling went both ways.  

Regardless, when we finished our pie- not a crumb remained- we walked over to “The Little White House,” which was, at one point, the vacation home of Harry S Truman.  Fun fact- there is a great deal of debate about whether or not to put a period after the S in Harry S Truman.  Given his actual given name, I say no.  The S doesn’t stand for anything.  It’s just an S.  His two grandfathers both had S-based names in some manner or another, and apparently, the single S was a compromise that was probably meant to honor both of them, but in reality, it probably didn’t please either one.  Still, no punctuation for you, Mr. President.  

The official tour of the Little White House would have cost more time and more money than we were willing to spend, so we wandered the grounds for a bit, then moved on.  We had pre booked a “train” trip.  By train, the good folks in Key West mean a regular motor vehicle decorated to look like a train that pulls a bunch of trailers with seats.  It was cute- they took us around to the Hemingway house, the southernmost point in the continental US, a Naval base, a series of museums and a bunch of other really cool stuff on the island.  We were made aware when we were at the highest point on the island, which is 15 feet above sea level.  We learned that the southernmost point in the continental US is preceded by the southernmost stop sign in the continental US.  The tour guide was very good, but we had to cut it a little short.  We had five hours in town to spend, and two of them were glass-bottomed-boat related.  We may have spent more time on lunch and pie than was necessary, as well, but look at all the regrets…  Wait- there aren’t any.  We’ve heard from lots of folks where we should go, but we did some cool stuff that wasn’t on the radar of our friends or family.  Also, we had pie, so there’s that.  

We hopped back on our bus to Miami with two minutes to spare.  We had a 5:30 deadline.  The last three people stepped on at 5:40, and I hope they could all feel us glaring at them for the fact that we all hustled and they decided they could have an extra ten minutes.  Jerks.  I am nearly certain that a man from that group was the one who applied cologne while on the bus.  Double rude.  

Two things I hadn’t fully expected in Key West- the sheer number of pink people and the sheer number of roosters.  The pink people- I mean, wow.  I know that not everyone is as fanatical about sunscreen as I am.  It’s a good thing to be fanatical about.  But the number of people who were busy getting a sunburn in front of my very eyes made me want to chase them all around with my spray can of Coppertone SPF 70.  Lots of fuchsia.  As for the roosters- these dudes were everywhere.  They were under parked cars, in open-air shops.  They were on the restaurant patio, watching Cas and I eat pie.  They were overly friendly and very bold.  So many roosters.  Souviner shops had rooster-themed displays, so apparently, they’ve been a part of the island culture for a while.  

But we’re back in our hotel, now.  We came back- it was so cool because we were the second-to-last folks to get on the bus and the first stop to get off.  Everyone else had to keep riding into the city.  South Beach perk!  We got here, dropped off our stuff and headed to a Cuban restaurant for some Ropa Vieja and mojitos.  Wow.  

For tomorrow, we start with an Everglades fan boat ride, spend a little beach time and wrap the day with a sunset cruise.  Sounds about right.  Then we head back to flat, landlocked Dallas to attend a friend’s wedding before it’s back to work with us.  

Tonight, we decompress, though.  It was a fifteen hour day that started with the buzzing of an alarm.  Maybe after vacation ends, we’ll sleep in.  Just once.  

Here are our photos!

The tony Tony hotel

We’re waking up at the beautiful Tony Hotel on South Beach.  The Tony has a neon spire on its top that says Tiffany, but we’re tying not to let that confuse us too much.  Tony is a fine name, to be sure, and not entirely lacking in double meaning.  Tony as an adjective means high-toned and stylish.  In that regard, we’re getting up and going at the tony Tony hotel.  

Yesterday was a whirlwind.  We left Dallas after somewhat hastily packing a bag- hopped on a Southwest flight to Austin, then another one to Miami.  We got off the plane, bidding adieu to James the flight attendant at gate 15 in Austin, only to board the same plane with the same James the flight attendant at gate 15 about an hour later.  Seems like an odd series of events.  But at least we got an opportunity to grab a pricey sandwich in the intervening hour.  

From there, it was a quick trip to the Miami airport.  We navigated to the car rental counter, and when I pulled a hand-fan out of my bag at the counter, the woman behind the desk said, somewhat sarcastically, “Welcome to Miami!” 

That’s when Cas took the helm.  He lived here for a few years in the ‘90s, so he was elected to be the rental car driver.  I’m happy to hand over the responsibility, anyhow.  I have never been here before.  We were on the little people-mover thingy from the airport terminal to the rental car spot, and I was happy to see so many palm trees.  Expectation met.  Box checked.  Palm trees intact.  They’re everywhere, in fact.  

But today, we leave the rental car in the garage and hand over the transportation responsibility to a bus driver.  Someone else is taking us to Key West.  We’ll just be passengers and enjoy the ride together.  They estimate five hours for the trip there, five hours on the key and five hours back.  That’s kind of a long day, and I am happy to let someone else drive and focus for that.  

Regardless, it’s nearly time to head out of our tony Tony hotel and hop on our bus to the keys.  Sunscreen, check.  Sandals, check.  Palm trees, everywhere.  Here we go.  

Photos here!

In Spanish, it’s “El Sandwich”

Kind of a linguistic let down.  There are a few words I know of like that.  Cognates.  Brothers.  Fraternal twins, and occasionally, identical ones.  Hotel in Spanish is hotel.  Sweater=Sueter.  Pharmacy=Farmacia.  Not a tremendous amount of mystery.  So when I insisted that the first food I eat in Florida be a Cuban Sandwich, it was El Sandwich Cubano.  Not exactly breaking new linguistic ground, here.  

Regardless, I just had the best Sandwich Cubano I have ever had.  Certainly, it must have been a good deal more authentic than anything I happened to eat in Dallas.  There’s a fair chance that the woman who made it for me was an actual Cuban person.  

I have more to tell about the day, of course.  It was my first foray into Miami, and we arrived at our hotel on a path that took us through Little Havana.  Did you know that there are just sometimes random chickens in people’s front yards there?  And there was one rooster.  Oh, and I did manage to snap a photo of a roadside flower stand that also sold tires.  Or maybe it was a tire shop that sold flowers.  Hard to say.  But I digress.  More about my initial impressions of Miami later.  For today, know that the place is beautiful, the streets are pretty crowded and the hotel is very nice.  

Here is the photo album, as per usual. Fun fact: the Spanish word for normal is “normal.”  Ah, learning a new language is so enlightening!  

See you tomorrow as we travel to Key West.  Time to hit the hay- it’s an early start!  

The mother of all clichés

It's spring break again, friends.  Time to pack a bag and head out of town.  If you close your eyes and think for a moment about a spring break spot, it wouldn't take too long for you to arrive in Florida.  It's the mother of all clichés.  In fact, I would love to see statistics about the impact of spring breakers on the overall Florida economy.  

I saw a story in the Dallas newspaper this morning about Miami Beach cracking down on spring breakers this year.  No public drunkenness.  More DUI checkpoints.  More law enforcement.  Less debauchery.  I doubt Cas and I are the intended target audience for these added layers of enforcement.  We're a couple of teachers spending part of a week off in Miami, seeing the Everglades and the Keys.  We're hardly an MTV reality show waiting to happen.  

So we leave Monday and return Thursday.  In the middle, there, we stay at a beautiful art deco hotel on South Beach.  We have a 60 minute airboat tour of the Everglades scheduled, racking up another national park on our list, and a full day trip to Key West.  We have a rental car booked, but we actually booked a bus to drive us to Key West and back.  Put that 10 hours of drive time on someone else.  Cas and I can watch a movie on an iPad or do a crossword or something instead of focusing on what may be a dull drive.  

We may spend the rest of the time eating Cuban sandwiches and lounging at the rooftop pool at our hotel.  Maybe we get a little beach time.  I do love parasailing when I can get to it.  It should be a good adventure.  We're there for three nights, and I am ready.  It's been a bit of a long week at school, so this is a welcome escape.  We'll pack a bag and get on the road.  Next time you hear from us, we'll be at our fancy-pants hotel.  See you there!  

The bigness of Texas

Not all heroes wear capes.  Some of them have commercial drivers licenses and operate luxury buses.  We used a service called Red Coach to get back and forth to San Antonio- it was the same outfit we used to get back and forth on our last journey to Austin.  It actually makes a ton of sense.  They get you one way for under $50, you don’t go to an airport, you buy no gas and you pay for no parking.  Also, you can watch a movie on the road or do a crossword or something with your partner, and nobody has to watch traffic or stress out over the other crazies on the highway.  

Today, our driver arrived in Richardson near the UTD campus, our selected drop off point, about an hour and a half late.  Not her fault.  It was a really crappy, rainy day and there were plenty of challenges on the path.  The near constant rain compounded the difficulty of getting from one part of Texas to the other.  Folks from other sates fail to grasp the bigness of Texas.  You can start in the geographical center of Texas and drive all day in any direction without ever leaving the state.  It’s huge. Google says it takes 11 hours and 54 minutes to get from the bottom tip of Texas (Brownsville) to the top of the panhandle.  It’s massive.  

Anyhow, we had a last hurrah in San Antonio before the journey North.  We woke up late and had what Cas has begun got call blunch.  It’s not really brunch.  Brunch is fancy and there are mimosas or something.  Blunch is breakfast that you took too long to get to- with hearty portions so you need no food for a long, long time after.  We went to Schilo’s, which is a partner restaurant with Casa Rio.  Fun fact, Schilo’s is the oldest restaurant in all of San Antonio.  We hit all the oldies but goodies on this trip  We had a German breakfast there, and swung past the Menger (which, I discovered is the oldest continuously operating hotel west of the Mississippi) on our way to the bus pick up spot.  I’m just grateful we weren’t on an old bus! 

But, we’re back.  We have a few things to square away, a celebration or two and it’s back to work until Spring Break hits and we get back on the road again.  Hopefully, we can make it out of Texas, though that often takes some effort.  Until next time, safe travels, everyone!  Here is a pretty cute shot of me and Cas next to an old Live Oak that sings just stage left of the Alamo.  Remember that place?   

Lazy day in San Antonio

There is something great about a day when you have no plans, no scheduled events and nothing tying you to a specific place at a particular time.  When you have a day like that after so many days that are exactly the opposite, you get a little confused.  Where should you go?  Who knows?  What should you do?  Who can say?  

It’s liberating.  It’s how we felt yesterday.  Disoriented- but with a smile. We started off by sleeping in, a luxury we don’t get often enough in Dallas.  After that, we were off to breakfast.  Our restaurant choice was driven by the quest to drink a cup of the very yummy Mexican hot chocolate we had last time we were around these parts.  The restaurant was about a mile away from our hotel, which made for a nice morning walk. When we got there, the line to put our names on the list was a ten minute affair, after which the wait list was about 45 minutes long.  It was well into lunchtime when we sat down to have our breakfast, but fortunately, Mi Tierra serves breakfast all day.  When we were finally seated, we ordered the Mexican hot chocolate first thing.  Apparently, it’s made in a big pot in the back of the restaurant, and the pot was empty when we arrived at our table.  We had to wait for a new batch to cook up.  So, we had a whole breakfast while we waited.  We watched a group seated after us pay the check and leave.  We watched the busboy clear the plates and get the space ready for the next occupants.  Finally, we got the hot chocolate.  First, it’s a good thing we were in no hurry.  Second, it was worth the wait.  We sat and enjoyed our beverages- apparently, they make this stuff by melting chocolate in warm milk.  I think they added some cinnamon and a little magic or something.  All in all, it was pretty great.  

We walked from there back to the hotel, where in an act of useless optimism, I had left my jacket.  Hey, I took that jacket everywhere on New Years Eve and didn’t need it.  So I left it at the hotel on New Years Day.  Also the wrong call…  No worries, because there were no hurries.  We got the jacket and decided to take an Uber to the Pearl district.  It’s where the old Pearl Beer factory used to be.  They’ve taken the bones of the old manufacturing site and turned it into a pretty neighborhood.  There were restaurants, bars, shops and a bookstore that had the audacity to be closed on New Years Day.  It was clearly where young families in San Antonio go out.  We were one of the few couples walking around without at least one toddler or dog.  We went into a spot for a glass of wine, admiring the way they repurposed the industrial elements as decor.  We stepped out to wander a bit, finding a spot where the patio was dotted with propane fire pits- a very nice touch.  We finally settled on a burger place for dinner.  Sam’s Burger Joint had personality to spare.  The walls were covered in license plates, posters from musicians, ads promoting long past concerts and autographed headshots.  I dined next to the autograph of Tom Petty.  We shared our booth with him, a trio of signatures from the members of ZZ Top, and a shot of Willie Nelson with an illegible signature on it. 

After that, we wanted to top off the stress free day with a little quiet time, so we headed back to the hotel and watched an episode of one of the shows we’d been streaming before hitting the hay.  Evidently, the whole world spent the waking hours of the day laser-focused on college football, and since we’re currently about 80 miles from Austin, there are folks around here with some pretty pronounced interest in the results of yesterday’s Sugar Bowl.  I looked it up- the Longhorns are all done for the season.  I’m kind of glad I wasn’t sitting at a bar somewhere when that result became final.  I’m sure there are plenty of broken hearts to go around.  There are really no low-stakes football games this time of year at the college or the professional level.  

Anyhow, as I get ready to head to the hotel gym this morning, I suspect there are plenty of folks who drowned their sorrows last night.  Perhaps there will be precious little company at the elliptical machines and treadmills while I squeeze in a morning workout on the way out of town.  For me though, it’s time to get moving.  As much as the Menger is interesting and historically significant I do miss my own mattress.  One more San Antonio Morning, then it’s back on the luxury bus and a restful ride back to Dallas.  See you on the road!

Happy new year!

We started New Years Eve slowly with a little hotel gym workout and a stroll to the oldest restaurant on the Riverwalk.  Casa Rio, as I mentioned yesterday, holds that distinction.  We got there before the major lunch rush and ended up at the very first table by the river under one of the iconic colored umbrellas.  If you Google the riverwalk, the umbrellas you’ll probably see in any resulting image will be from Casa Rio.  And if you do happen to find yourself seated right there by the water, you will hear every single passing boat tour guide tell his or her participants that Casa Rio is the oldest restaurant on the riverwalk.  We heard that from high pitched voices, low ones, ones with no enthusiasm, ones with foreign accents.  Hey- did you know that Casa Rio is the oldest restaurant on the riverwalk?  

We nearly asked to be moved several tables down river so we could hear the next fact.  Regardless, the food was kind of amazing.  The tamale, the enchilada, the rice and the beans felt a little like comfort food.  It was proper, classic Tex-Mex- no new groundbreaking recipe there.  I certainly hope not.  We both went for “The Regular Plate, a favorite since 1946.”  With a menu promise like that, you want an old standard.  It also comes with Chili con Carne, which is completely amazing.  With the promise of the original recipe from the Chili Queens who served it in San Antonio’s plazas in the 1800s, you pretty much have to try it.  I figure some things endure because they’re just that good.  After the regular plate with the Chili Queen chili on it, we wandered back toward The Menger, which is right next door to the Alamo.  Remember that place?  

We had pre-booked a guided tour, and with it, we got a tour guide.  This time around, we had a young woman named Summer with a degree in anthropology who essentially taught my whole seventh grade history class in one hour-long tour.  While she was a good deal quicker than Mrs. O’Neal at North Junior High, she wasn’t a whole lot more compelling.  She stood next to a glassed-in model of the Alamo grounds and gave a 20-minute talk culminating in the attack that Santa Ana’s regimen perpetrated on the grounds of this former Spanish mission.  There were elementary-aged kids in the tour group who sat on the ground, and one absolutely laid down.  Summer forged ahead, explaining the style of government Mexico had and how Santa Ana dismantled it in favor of what was a de facto dictatorship.  Oof.  But the tour was, overall, a win, and we got a pretty good look at the Alamo.  We also got into the relatively new building off to the side where all of the collected artifacts were stored.  That’s when we were reminded about Phil Collins.  Yes, that Phil Collins.  Susudio.  Invisible touch.  In the air tonight.  The Genesis guy and apparent Alamo enthusiast.  He had a massive collection of Alamo artifacts, and he donated them all to this museum.  He also did a narrated thing for a display.  It was a huge diorama of the grounds, and as the aging rock star talked about different parts of the battle, a light would shine there to illuminate the spot where the action took place.  It was kind of surreal.  

After that, we had a little time to kill.  We did a little riverwalk strolling and spent a moment back at the hotel, looking over weather reports and adjusting our sweaters and jackets for the evening.  The weather app was a little misleading, in fact.  We overdressed for our river trip.  Regardless, we arrived at Paisano’s, which is the Italian restaurant that was hosting the New Years Eve river cruise dinner.  We were directed to sit at the bar until the boat was ready to board, and it loaded about 30 minutes late.  We got on, which included us sitting at a long table with many other couples, then we got our drinks and appetizer orders all sorted out.  From there, we went once around, sipping Prosecco and listening to a tour guide explain the features of the Riverwalk.  Hey, did you know that Casa Rio is the oldest restaurant on the Riverwalk?  The more you know…

When the river dinner came to it’s final lap, we had enjoyed a very nice meal.  There was a pear and cranberry salad with Gorgonzola cheese, a fancy shrimp appetizer and a very good pasta with shrimp, scallops, mussels and a half of a lobster tail finished off with a flourless chocolate cake.  When we got up after that dinner, we needed a little walkabout time just to burn a few calories.  We took off to Hemisfair Park, the site of the 1968 World’s Fair.  They have the inevitable tall observation deck building on a stick, as so many cities do.  Perhaps we’ll peer out from the top of that stick later today.  We entered the park, and the closest thing I can equate the atmosphere to would be the carnival-style midway at the state fair.  By the way, the midway is my least favorite part of the state fair.  There were innumerable booths, food trucks and the constant thrum of Tejano music.  I felt like I was at the tail end of every homecoming dance I have ever had to chaperone as a high school teacher in a predominantly Latino school.  I am certain it was all the correct mood for their target audience, just as I am certain I was not in that demographic.  I felt a little too old for it all.  Cas and I headed back to the hotel, as we’d predicted the possibility we’d want an alternative.  We had a half-sized bottle of Prosecco stashed in our hotel room fridge, and that became the best sounding option for the midnight toast.  But just when you feel a little old, welcome to the lobby of the Menger!  There was a piano player there with an assembled, dressed up crowd of decidedly older revelers.  The general mood of the hotel lobby reminded me a little of the polka band that played at my grandpa’s wedding to my step-grandma in the mid ‘80s.  There was a police officer posted there who looked absolutely tortured with boredom.  We took a chance and popped our heads into the Menger bar for a moment, found our same amazing seats (despite a pretty good crowd!) and had one round of very tasty lemon drops before last call happened at 11.  That was just about right to get us to the room and to our half-bottle or Prosecco before midnight, when we toasted with plastic cups while laughing at the sounds of the chicken dance song (I know, right!) filtering up from the lobby.  

But even a lounge act knows when it’s time to play Auld lang syne and lift a glass.  So, cheers, everyone!  It’s 2024, and we’re headed out for a very late morning breakfast in San Antonio.  We’ll have one more night at the historic Menger hotel, then it’s back to Dallas, back to reality and time to disassemble the Christmas tree and get back to work. Happy new year, folks!