The plan was to leave around 9 on Saturday morning, since it takes a reported 6 hours to drive to Houston, and we wanted to stop for lunch in San Antonio.
A ginormous cockroach appeared just minutes before we left, waving goodbye and singing a little cockroach song. Hubs killed it (twice, they don’t die easily) and we were on our merry way, content that the others would be well-warned by the cockroach-smear on our wall and stay away while we vacationed.
We took our sweet time, stopping for a leisurely lunch in San Antonio (at Panda Express, an Asian fast-food chain). A huge airshow slowed us down. I almost crashed the car trying to get a look at the formation of old, very loud planes that kept circling. Thought of Zee, far away in Guam, getting things accomplished in tropical heat.
As we neared Houston, we noticed a lot of run-down buildings, broken signs, dilapidated houses. We mused about the poverty level, then remembered that Hurricane Ike tore it up only a bit ago.
Dropped our bags at the hotel, and headed to the airport to pick up Hubs’ Mama and Papa. Dropped their bags at the hotel and went searching for a place to eat.
Highways in Texas all have access roads flanking the main drag. The roads are one-way. Thus, if you’re headed north on the highway, the access road next to you is also headed north. There are tons of switch-backs and turn-arounds, made possible by an elaborate under/overpass system and strategically placed traffic lights.
The access-road method is generally successful, but falls apart at any major intersections (when I-10 meets I-45, for example). The access roads just sort of disappear as they approach the intersection, dumping you either into a warren of local streets and alleyways, or depositing you (without notice) back onto a highway. And not necessarily the right highway, either.
Thus, spotting a place to eat from a Texas highway is easy. Getting to it, not so much. We saw Bonnie’s around 7 pm and didn’t walk through the doors until after 8.
It was good food, though. Chalk one up for Houston, and being near a real body of water, and fresh fish. And homemade chowder.
When we got back to the hotel, Papa Hubs unveiled a t-shirt that Hubs had forgotten about, from back in his GI Joe (phase 1) days. I oohed and aahed, and Hubs took it off quickly after trying it on. But that little shirt didn’t get tossed in the trunk of the car. It got packed into the suitcases bound for the Carnival Conquest.
Of course, we all tried to change our watches and set alarms and stuff, since Saturday/Sunday happened to be the end of Daylight Savings. It fell apart the next morning because none of the phones updated correctly, and two of the four of us were also operating with a time-zone change (East Coast to Central). It all worked, out, though. We were on vacation!