Of course I don’t have any memory of the Alamo but I had heard that it’s located in San Antonio. So my husband and I visited there some years ago. Here we encountered a quaint mission building chocked full of yellowed letters and tattered pictures under glass, aged framed plaques, time worn posters and a host of well-preserved artifacts. All this memorabilia resulted from a battle well fought. But not being much of a history buff the cool interior of the building was what I really sought. The two things I gleaned from that trip: how Texas won its independence from Mexico and when it’s 101 degrees in August it’s no time to go visit the Alamo.
We had arranged to go on our yearly jaunt with son Brad, his wife and the kidlets in tow. So we were off to San Antonio because that’s where they chose. Right up my alley for things to do ‘cause I love SeaWorld, the River Walk and the Historic Market Square. (With its hundreds of indoor/outdoor shops and restaurants my credit card was worse for the wear but who cares?) I bought clothes all day long from the stores in this mall! Later I ate like a cerdito (little piggy) wondering why I hadn’t bought a size large instead of the smalls!
SeaWorld was a huge hit all around. The enormous displays of brilliantly colored fish were absolute eye candy. No rainbow’s array dare compete with their grandeur! And in between, and so to cool off, water rides offered diversion, nerve trauma, chills, accelerated heart palpitations, wetness and thrills. I served as another form of diversion. I had to come to grips with my bad hip. As not to slow the rest down, they rented me a riding cart to get around. So I joined the ranks of the less limber and rode from place to place on an electric scooter. Unused to the gears and which hand caused it to do what I hit a few objects and a person or two…one in the leg and one in the butt. Going in reverse truly challenged my skills but everyone laughed so no harm done…glad they all liked it…I didn’t think it was that much fun. Granddaughter Gabby hung back with me for what she described as the scariest of rides. “I don’t want to go on those rides, CiCi,” she said. “But my mom and dad make me even though I don’t want to, they make me.” “Well, I’ll just have to have a talk with them about that,” I quelled her fears as only a grandma can do, having such wisdom after so many years. And then the next ride was ready to go and Gabby was all aboard in the front row. And every ride thereafter, far above the crowd, you could hear her laughter.
I steered clear of the rides as I was having a hard enough time steering anywhere on dry land. But anxious to experience the beluga whales I boogied ahead to their exhibit. What cool creatures ~ albeit funny looking facial features! They are sometimes called sea canaries because they can make up to 11 different sounds. I heard a chirp, whistle, cackle and a squawk. If I’d have hung around maybe I would have heard them talk! Their presentation was a prelude to what I was waiting for with bated breath…the possibly largest and perhaps the most graceful sea entertainers of all the rest.
Thankful for the convenience of ramps, driving up to the killer whales’ performance wasn’t too big of a task. (By now I’d become quite a pro maneuvering my go-cart from show to show.) One of the trainers stepped up to a microphone giving a tutorial on what about these mammals is known. Then the heart-pounding music began to delight and three gigantic beautiful orcas burst into sight. All in a row they swam with precision ~ a totally surprising eye pleasing vision! Wait, they suddenly disappeared from sight! There was a crescendo in the music and all at once the magnificent whales exploded 20 feet into the air! On my neck and all over my arms I could feel goose bumps appear. And that remained the case until they had entertained and amazed and the show had ended. What an experience! Creatures like these can only be described as splendid!
Sad when it was time to leave but we were hungry and the River Walk had many restaurants to please. It grew too late to take the boat ride that skirts along the edge of the Walk. But we sauntered on the paved stone route giving us time to talk. We recounted all the fun things, all the memories we’d share. Then back to the lodging to try to cram all we’d bought into the luggage where things fit that we had brought.
Oh for Pete’s sake! Oh Wow! Wouldn’t you know?
On this trip to San Antonio
We didn’t “Remember the Alamo!”
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