day100

Day 100 (November 28, 2006) - Galveston

After much consideration, we have resolved to skip our visit to San Antonio. There's absolutely no way we can possibly approach the downtown area with the RV, and we are not staying around for another night. The city is a maze of highways running above and below you, we hit rush-hour traffic and it's not fun. We are heading straight for Galveston, bypassing altogether Houston as well. Somehow big Texas cities do not exert any appeal on me. We leave I-10 and proceed through secondary roads to Freeport before accessing the island of Galveston. It's an incredible scenery - especially coming from days spent looking at deserts, clear skies, mountains and rivers. Here we find a jungle. But it's a man-made jungle of oil pipes, refineries, trucks entering and exiting, and ugliness all around. The air smells of sulphur. My eyes burn.

We leave Freeport as fast as we can by means of a bridge that connects the mainland to the island of Galveston, and continue for about 20 miles along the ocean. Houses are built right on the beach here, they look somewhat familiar in terms of architecture, but they stand high above the ground on wooden pillars, perhaps because of high tide and hurricanes.

10 miles outside Galveston we come across a state park with a good campground and we decide to spend the night here. It's still early and we have at least half a day ahead of us to explore the surroundings. So with our Vespa we set off to visit the historic downtown. It consists of about 3 or 4 blocks of old brick buildings dated around 1878: former banks, insurance companies and such, which now host pubs, restaurants and shops. The area is deserted this afternoon, and it takes us no time at all to visit it. We then meander through residential streets and come to the conclusion that apart from the historic district, the city of Galveston leaves a lot to be desired. Sure, there are lots of Victorian houses here that have seen better days, many are boarded up or in shambles, and stand next to others that have been perfectly restored (except perhaps for the pink and the violet hues used for outside paint). The hotels and restaurants lined up along the ocean clearly look salt-damaged and in serious need of a touch-up. Petr is not impressed, he "smells Colonial" as he puts it. We stop along the shore to watch some surfers, then head back to camp for a good hearty meal and some quiet time.