Greetings from The Alamo. Or, about a half mile southeast of it, anyway. I’m in a cozy hotel, high atop San Antonio, gulping down cool water after a long afternoon of walking in the crazy Texas heat.
I know I should go out again, and tour the Alamo, or any of the historic missions around here, but I am so enjoying the air conditioning and American Justice on A&E and bottles of water and my yoga pants. I don’t wanna be hot again.
It has been a nice day so far. I woke up with a bad headache and some confusion about how the heck I got here, but I soon cleared all that up with strong coffee and yummy breakfast breads – an apple danish and a croissant.
I got dressed in an outfit that would quickly prove to be too warm, and headed out to find the Rivercenter Mall and the Alamo Plaza. I got lost. You knew I would, right? Fortunately, there were helpful maps posted here and there that helped me get back on track, and I eventually found the area. The mall looks deceivingly small from the outside, but turned out to be a labyrinthine test of endurance for me. My objective was to exchange a shirt that D bought, and this was dispatched pretty quickly. I even discovered some cute things in the big gal section and a cute hat to keep the intense sun off of my face.
I learned, too, that The San Antonio River actually flows into the mall. There is this lovely courtyard area built all around what seems to be one end of the River.
I donned my new hat and tried to sit at a pretty little table and look touristy (digging through my Lonely Planet guide to figure out how to get to the missions), but it was like 1200 degrees out there.
I wanted to go to eat lunch and then take the Alamo tour, so I looked for an exit from the mall. And looked. And looked. And got increasingly confused. No matter what direction I turned, all I could see were Everything’s Bigger In Texas tee-shirts and twelve entrances to a parking garage. I was hot – even in the air conditioning – and thirsty and very cranky that I’d chosen to wear capri pants instead of maybe a swimsuit or loincloth more suited to the weather. After what seemed like a year and a dozen wrong turns, I saw daylight, literally, made my way out of the mall and onto Crockett Street (yep, named for that Crockett, not that one). And low and behold, there was the Alamo. By this time, though, I was so incredibly hot and a bit woozy and not up to the tour or even snapping a picture. But I know where it is now. Hopefully I can find it again tomorrow.
I found a drugstore right down the street from the lovely old mission, and in a quick transaction bought and gulped down copious amounts of water. Some of the haze cleared, which allowed me to find the way back to my hotel on the first try. Along the route, I came upon a deli and had to run inside for air and lunch. One lemonade, one big water, and an egg salad sandwich later, I was back at the hotel. And all that before 3pm. Whew.
Who knows what’s in store for me tomorrow. But I’m guessing it’s going to be creepy.