Thursday, March 19, 2015

Adventure 233: Jamaica Beach RV Park, Galveston, TX/Post A

From here we can throw a rock into the Gulf of Mexico.
After a strangely restful night amid the scratching of cricket legs, the ribbets of throaty frogs, the thumping of fluttering wings smacking the trailer, and the soaking of pounding rain, we had a leisurely morning in Victoria's city park. Just call me the comeback kid, as I tromped the Cager to win all of the wrap around porches in Victoria. We broke camp about ten (Late for us) and set off on the last of our hard driving days across South Texas. We arrived without incident after driving through a mixture of steaming gulf air, misty fog, and a glimpse or two of sunlight. We'll stay here of four nights, which is perfect because we have ourselves hooked up to cable TV (Go Zags--March Madness, etc.), and we've hit the jackpot in terms of sites. We're in a nicely protected place with a low traffic pattern. The WiFi seems strong enough for us not to overuse our Hot Spot data, and the breeze off of the gulf is nicely refreshing, especially compared to the stifling humidity (The locals say, "What humidity?") of last night. After setting up, we wasted no time in finding the local fish market. We bought a pound of large fresh scallops which we sautéed in butter and garlic to go along with a pasta primavera recipe Judy found on Pinterest (The thin gruel continues). I have no doubt we'll become regulars at the fish market in the next few days. This area is quite intriguing, especially for a guy from the Pacific Northwest. It's as flat as a pool table, the air is chewable, the people are friendly and ridiculously polite. It is a little disconcerting that the houses are on stilts and we saw a sign, "Don't pick up Hitchhikers" when we passed a little town that was home to a Texas Correctional Institution. I wouldn't want to be here when the water was high enough to make the stilts necessary, and I would like to think Texas can keep track of their prisoners. And then there is scent of petroleum in the air (I think Texans call it the smell of money). The refinery in Freeport is humongous. We couldn't see out into the gulf because of the fog, but I'll wager there are a few large drilling rigs not too far off shore. The good news is that it all seems quite well run. The birds are everywhere from annoying grackles to regal pelicans to flocks of shock white birds doing acrobatics. And yes, seagulls. We're located not too far from the seawall in Galveston (Which we'll tour tomorrow), and maybe it's because of the gulf air, but the area feels clean. I can't even whine about the humidity this evening because it couldn't be nicer to be sitting here watching hoops after a nice dinner with my best girl. I must say life is good, especially today.


 Though this old fellow is retired, mariners are still grateful for a guiding light.
 The rural south is still quite agrarian.
 The view from the bridge at Freepoert.
 Texas gold in them there trains.
 Is high water really so common as to require stilted houses? Yikes!
 The view of our side yard for the next few days.

 Fric and Frac at home in site #48.
 Scallops just dropped into the sizzling garlic butter.
 Soon, they gave up their juices.
 Then they were plated beside the pasta primavera. 
 Judy deciding whether or not we should save come scallops and pasta for lunch tomorrow. What do you think?
 The view west. That's not haze, it's liquid air.
Two of the hundred or so annoying grackles. 

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