Texas has two Rivieras. One is the conceptual “Riviera” claimed by towns along the Gulf Coast’s Padre and Mustang Islands, and the other is the actual burg of Riviera, our next destination as we started our eastward bounce along the coast toward Florida.
We chose Riviera purely because of its location, a half-way point on the drive from Donna to Corpus Christi. We’d have three days on the inlet to Baffin Bay, get our minds onto “island time,” and maybe take advantage of the campground’s activities.
All activities were cancelled during our stay because Covid, RSV, and flu were going around the campground, which is not what you want to hear, but one of the benefits of this lifestyle is that most socializing takes place outdoors. Most of the campers were seasonal “Winter Texans,” (like Florida’s “snowbirds,” who come from Northern states and spend the winter in a warmer climate), including our neighbors on both sides (Hi Linda and Erik and Linda!), and we enjoyed several happy chats with them, hearing about their travels and telling them about ours.
We also took advantage of the good (if chilly) weather and took Ruthie for a walk out the pier. Now, anyone who shares a home with a rescue dog probably has moments when they recognize their pup’s former life is showing up. For Ruthie, there seems to be something about being on a pier over salt water that gives her tremendous joy. She was found along Florida’s Gulf Coast, and our Riviera adventure must have felt like home to her. It was lovely to see her scamper and dance like a puppy!
If you’ve been following along on Facebook (SimonSusanVeness), you already know we had fun with “Caption This” for the following photo, and we had a good laugh about the fantastic captions people came up with.
The real story behind it is, when we arrived at the campground we were told the nearest grocery store was a 40-mile round-trip to Kingman (where we’d Wallydocked the night before we arrived in Donna ((Hi Karin and Darren! Hi Gary and Mary!))), or we could drive eight miles to the local Dollar General, which carried basic foodstuffs. We were happy with soup and a short drive, and I only took the photo to remind us that we actually shopped for comestibles at a Dollar store. Simon’s facial expression, though; priceless!
Anyway, our time in Riviera was short, so this blog will be short, too. We strolled the pier just outside the campground, did a little bit of writing, and enjoyed the fabulous view outside our front window, which included sightings of what we were told were Nilgai, the massive, pointy-horned animals that look like big-barreled deer but are really related to antelope.
They were brought to the area by King Ranch as game for the ranch’s hunting expeditions, but, happily, at least some of their descendants are living a free life. We were so thrilled by these unexpected sightings, and when our time in Riveria came to an end, we felt it had been something truly special.
Somehow we’ve reached the three-quarter mark of our grand RV adventure, and we’re looking at another month of travel that completes nine full months on the roads of America.
The full scope of our 9-month journey to date, starting from our Florida base, then heading north and west, taking a loop from Yellowstone National Park (G) to Glacier National Park (H), then down through Montana and Wyoming (I) before heading west again to Twin Falls, Idaho (K) and south through Utah and Nevada. We’ve then headed east and south through Arizona, New Mexico and Texas
January was very much a “rest” month, in which we were largely in one place, down in the southwest of Texas, but we got back under way again at the beginning of February, turning north and east to skirt along the Gulf Coast of the Lone Star State, a part of Texas we’d heard a lot about but had never visited before.
Setting out from Donna, close to the Mexican border, we drove due east to beautiful South Padre Island, part of the barrier island system along the coast that is laced with wide, open beaches. Here, we were lucky enough to find accommodation at the KOA Journey close to the long stretch of SPI Beach.
The long-distance view of Month 9, down in the southwest corner of Texas
From there, we back-tracked slightly and then headed north for more coastal experiences, first at a tiny but lovely spot on Baffin Bay called Riviera (and the wonderfully natural Seawind RV Resort, part of the Kaufer Hubert Memorial Park), then it was on to the busy port city of Corpus Christi, where we were lucky enough to stay at the Colonia Del Rey RV Park, ideally situated between the beaches and the city itself.
Finally, the last week has brought us to another idyllic spot on the epic Texas seashore, Pioneer Beach RV Resort, where we are only a few hundred yards from the unbroken 18-mile stretch of gorgeous beach hideaway.
The close-up view of Month 9, showing our route from Donna to South Padre Island and then north to Corpus Christi and Port Aransas, truly a lovely part of the state
It is a total of 294 miles, which is barely a day’s drive under normal circumstances, but we’re looking to stay out of the way of all the winter weather immediately to the north and explore an area we’ve never been to before, hence the slow pace and the chance to really savor the journey at this stage.
That compares with 928 miles in Month 8, and takes us to a grand total of 8,536 miles since we left home.
However, we have managed an additional 945 miles in the past month in our little Ford Fiesta, Nippy, exploring the state parks, small towns and wonderful open countryside of this part of the world. Our extra mileage in the car is now at 20,653, and the grand total of miles covered in both Fati and Nippy has reached a whopping 29,189 across the USA, or enough to fly back and forth from Orlando to London almost four times!
We still have at least another 1,500 miles before we get back to our Florida base, and another three states to visit, but we can safely say at this stage that our grand RV adventure has definitely lived up to our expectations, and more besides!
Today marks nine months since we locked the door to our house in Florida and set off for a year-long adventure in an RV. Here’s what we learned during the past month:
Now that we’re in the depths of winter and have survived a bone-chilling Arctic blast, with so much of the country getting hammered with snow, our respect for and appreciation of truckers and farmers is immense. We’ll remember that when the trip is over, and never take the growing and moving of our food for granted again.
You really can wear three pairs of pants at the same time, when you’re cold enough.
Some of the best food comes from places you wouldn’t go into if you didn’t have a recommendation from a person you trust. The dives, where all the attention is on the food and none of it is on the ambiance. We love our five-star dining with wine pairings, but damn, son…authentic BBQ or Mexican food from those grubby joints with lines out the door are heaven on a plate.
Appreciation. When you experience something completely new, that’s WAY out of your comfort zone, or you meet people who are not at all like-minded, taking time to slow your thought process and find a place of appreciation broadens your mind. We all grow up with preconceptions, and putting those preconceptions on hold allows you to fully experience the gifts this lifestyle can give. We don’t have to agree on everything to be able to agree on some things.
Hello, humidity! We forgot what humidity feels like. The dry heat of the deserts was challenging, and we went through a lot of water and moisturizer and Chapstick trying not to dehydrate completely, but now our jeans and our pillowcases are ever so slightly damp, and we’re not sure we like it.
Doggie diapers and tinkle pads are our new reality, as are 3 a.m. potty runs for our Ruthie. Campsites with grass around the rig are a blessing. Having to hike to the dog walk area makes Simon swear under his breath so as not to wake the neighbors. Ruthie sniffing around the dog walk area as if she doesn’t have to go, then pooping in the road, makes him swear out loud. Lovingly, of course.
In our blog, What We Learned During Our Fifth Month On The Road, we wrote the following words about Jacques De Paep, a kind, generous, funny man we met at a campground in Sheridan, Wyoming, who, with his wife and their dog, was at the start of a grand retirement adventure: “We had no idea how much you’ll care about these new friends when they’re facing a sudden challenge. There is something very special about this community. How wonderful it is to have your heart expand this way.” Now, in our ninth month, our hearts are broken. We’ve kept up with Jacques’ health through his loving wife, Louise, and are devastated that his Earthly journey came to an end on February 10. Connections sometimes happen quickly, and our own RV adventure will continue with Jacques – the wild-haired man who was the first one out there to help another camper in need, getting rained on, but with a laugh in his voice and a genuine attitude of caring – firmly in our hearts. We are honored to call him our friend.
We only had four days on South Padre Island, so we packed in as much as we could. We knew one of our outings would involve the work of someone we consider a five-star jerk, but we didn’t know there was another total git who had a big impact on what would become Texas, and on the country as a whole.
If you’ve been following our blog or follow us on Facebook, you know we’ve mentioned having Starlink as our internet system. For RVers, it’s the only fully reliable connection, and that’s something we are not able to take risks with; we have to have internet powerful enough to deal with large files being transferred, because we’re working as we’re traveling.
Starlink and Simon, both hard at work.
You might also know who owns Starlink. And if you do, you know Elon Musk is a controversial character, to say the very least. Perhaps he’s nice to dogs and babies, but we absolutely cannot stand his attitudes or behaviors. It was a huge moral dilemma when we had to decide how to deal with internet on the road.
All of that is a long tirade leading up to us saying we made the trip to Starbase, about 40 miles from our campground (by car; maybe 5 if there wasn’t a gigantic ocean inlet in the way), out in the boonies of Boca Chica.
If Elon ever convinces more than one human being to implant a microchip in their brain, he might enclose his Starbase compound and carry out whatever plan he’s working on, but for now you can drive right up to it, and we did. We were impressed by what we saw, in the same way we were impressed by the Reichstag in Berlin – with a mix of admiration for the building and fear of its owner.
This long road goes straight to the beach, past Starbase and the Starlink compound.
Starbase consists of an area that features rockets and big, mysterious buildings; an area where small, pre-fab homes are stored, presumably for future employees who want to live onsite; the Starlink center; and a launch pad. A massive amount of empty land and the sea surround the compound.
It’s possible these giant…um…rockets…reminded us of their creator in more ways than one.
A few hundred feet past the Starlink base is Boca Chica Beach, which, for now, is the reason you can drive right past Elon’s private property. You can also drive on the beach, because of course you can; this is Texas, and it won’t be messed with by paltry safety rules. Admittedly, Florida has a driveable beach where accidents happen every year, but…well…Florida.
We were actually glad we saw Starbase. There’s no question the place – and the ambition – is impressive. But we’re never going to agree to having microchipped brains or treating people as expendable.
We didn’t expect to be able to get this close to the rockets.
The next day we drove to Brownsville, in part because we were supposed to spend three days camping there and we honestly weren’t sure we wanted to, and in part because we wanted to see Palo Alto, where the first battle of the Mexican War took place when President Polk decided, in 1846, that part of Mexico was now his.
My “unimpressed” face.
I (Susan, obviously) am going to go even more preachy on you than usual, so skip this paragraph if you don’t want to hear it. I won’t be offended, and you’re probably making the right call. But the fact is, I cannot for the life of me understand most wars. Nazi Germany and other wars whose goal was a land grab with a massive side order of genocide is something completely different. That’s a war that needs fighting. Inciting war against people living peacefully just because you want what they have, that’s not how young lives should be lost. Getting along and sharing billions of acres is an option. If you have absolutely no self-control whatsoever and cannot live one more minute without taking someone else’s territory, set up a big speaker and…I dunno…maybe yodel at them without ceasing until they relent. It all ends in negotiation anyway, so skip the murder and get straight to the talking.
Okay, done. Mostly.
Palo Alto Battlefield National Historical Park features a battlefield marked with U.S. flags and Mexican flags, to show the front lines where the armies faced off as Mexico insisted its territory was its own and the U.S. said, “Nuh-uh. Ours now.” It also has a small interpretive center. We’re here to say it’s one of the best little museums we’ve seen on this trip, and that’s saying something.
Jeager, one of the park rangers, was the right man to answer our question: Didn’t this land come with the Louisiana Purchase? The short answer is, “No.” The long answer is, “Nooooooooooooo.” And the reason it’s “No” is because Mexico’s territory extended up into what is now southern Oregon, while the Brits still held what is now northern Oregon, Idaho, and Washington (state, not D.C.).
Part of what is now Texas was annexed as its own republic, but Polk wanted more. So why not lose a bunch of lives and make the Rio Grande the new U.S./Mexico border? What a jerk.
At the same time as the U.S. was deep in the two-year war for Mexican land, the British decided they weren’t interested in a long fight that would probably end in the loss of their territory below the 49th parallel, so they signed the Oregon Treaty and, at the end of the Mexican War, the continental U.S. enjoyed the boundaries we now know.
General Zachary Taylor, a non-political General who didn’t think the war was justified but ultimately led the successful campaign, became a national hero, and then the 12th President of the United States. Fascinating.
Simon was captivated by how well defined the Palo Alto battlefield was, and by the clarity of the interpretive center’s exhibits, which made it easy to see what had happened there. Susan was drawn in by the human side, and by the way researchers unearthed buttons torn from the soldiers’ uniforms during the violence of the battle, and used them to track the troops’ movements, even down to individual soldiers at times.
For us, the ripples and ramifications we’re encountering on this trip explain so much about what is wonderful and heroic and admirable and outrageously generous about this great country, and they also bring into stark focus the events that stand as lessons about the past and warnings for the future, and the decisions that do not represent our better selves.
Even though we live inland, Florida’s Gulf Coast has been a presence in our lives for nearly two decades. We write about it, we watch it for hurricanes, and we’ve traveled its full length for work and for enjoyment. Little did we know how much we’d feel that old familiar friend’s presence again.
After being in the mountains and the desert for so long, the coast, the smell of water, and the humidity came as a slight shock. What also came as a surprise was the look of South Padre Island. We had to remind ourselves over and over that we weren’t in Daytona, or Clearwater, or Miami after we crossed the big causeway over the Intracoastal Waterway. Had we been blindfolded and dropped on one of the area’s three main drags, we’d have put money on being in Florida.
South Padre also stands out as having its own character. Very touristy in the heart of the strip, but when we drove to the literal end of the road, it felt like we were in Michigan’s upper peninsula, driving right along Lake Michigan’s coast, with sand dunes on both sides and not a whole lot else.
At this remote end of the island, we found lots of RVers boondocking (camping with no hookups). Several vans and a few Class Cs and Fifth-Wheels were parked right off the road, obviously hanging out for several days.
We walked along the hard-packed beachfront, took cheeky side-eye glances into other people’s rigs (from a respectable distance), and appreciated the solitude while also knowing it wouldn’t work for us. Apart from anything else, we couldn’t have turned Fati around in such limited space.
Lunch at Mahi Nic – which came as a recommendation and was right along a canal – felt exactly like being at one of hundreds of waterside dining spots we’ve been to in Florida. We both ordered hot dogs (bacon-wrapped Captain Hearty dog for Simon, with chipotle mayo and pico de gallo; Nate Dog for Susan, with mustard, ketchup, onions, and pickle relish), with a side order of fries.
This is not something either of us would usually order, and we don’t know what possessed us. We do know the dogs were superb, and the fries were as big as our heads. We also now know that Susan can’t eat hot dogs that have a lot of garlic in them.
That is one big, whompin’-ass fry!
We had a nice wander around the beach, but both of us were really tired. It had been so long since we’d broken camp and moved in Fati, and the wind had been strong enough during our drive to require extra concentration and arm muscles, we really did feel the effects. South Padre Island KOA Holiday made a pleasant waterside base for our stay, and we were quite happy to relax a bit, enjoying the sound of the breeze through the palm trees.
Not a bad view!
Dinner that evening came from Viva, and had it been warmer outside we probably would have eaten at their indoor-outdoor dining room that faced the Intracoastal Waterway. Instead, we got a carry-out and ate at home, then called it a night after watching two episodes of the Great British Baking Show, our go-to indulgence when our brains don’t want to think anymore.
Simon went for the Gulf Shrimp and veggies
Susan had fish and heirloom carrots.
And a beautiful sunset made it taste even better.
We were up and out relatively early the next day, heading for breakfast at Josephine’s Kitchen. Susan went for two feather-light crepes with fruit, Simon dove into the Avocado Benedict, and our server brought Ruthie the best “pup cup” she’s ever had in her whole wide life. It was filled with bacon and blueberries, but she decided there was no reason to eat blueberries when bacon was around.
Pup cup of delight!
Next we popped over to Sea Turtle, Inc. This small operation rescues and rehabilitates sea turtles, and the facility had several long-term and short-term residents, as well as interesting displays featuring the local sea life. It’s all about education, and again, we felt very much like we were back home in Florida.
Did you know turtles yawn? Us either!
Ruthie did not understand the assignment.
Think whatever feels comfortable for you about SeaWorld in Orlando, but do bear in mind, the work they do rescuing and rehabilitating sea turtles, manatees, and other living beings is absolutely second to none. We know their facilities well, and it’s astonishing how much they’ve added to the welfare of the seas and sea life.
The South Padre Island Birding and Nature Center was right next door, and we could easily have spent hours there, even though we don’t consider ourselves birders and can’t identify most of what we’re seeing. What a fantastic place! When migrations are going on, it must be utterly spectacular.
The view from the third floor of the nature center’s observation tower.
An egret, probably, and some duck things with beautiful faces.
Although the facility is mostly outdoors, dogs are not allowed on the walkways. We understand this; dogs bark, and birds don’t like that. Still, our Ruthie would have loved it. So many good sniffs!
This bird surely has a real name, but for us it was a Vulture Kingfisher.
Even small children know this one’s name. Bob. It’s Bob.
Variety Pack of birds.
Directly across the main strip from the birding center was Clayton’s Beach Bar, “the biggest beach bar in Texas.” Simon cannot pass up places like this. It is simply impossible for him to do so. Two fish sandwiches and a beer each later, we were perfectly chilled and in the mood to pass judgement upon those who were dancing to the band that had begun to play.
The bar so big it’s like being on the upper deck of a cruise ship.
When the band showed up Simon said, “They’re going to open with something big. ZZ Top, maybe.” What they really opened with was something akin to a dirge. Very funeral-sounding, and nothing we could identify. It didn’t get a whole lot better from there, and when people started dancing to “I got friends in low places,” it looked like none of them were dancing to the same song, or to the song that was actually being played. But they were having fun, and that’s all that counts, so we bid them a silent goodbye and went back to Fati until dinnertime.
Meatball Café was our choice for the evening, partly because Simon had been craving pizza, Susan can’t have it, and the café offered eight-inch pizzas, salad, bruschetta, and calamari. Half a side salad and some bruschetta was enough for Susan, and Simon was a happy boy with his pizza. We have no photos of this meal. We don’t know why.
We’d done a lot of dining at or from restaurants, as the area’s tourism was eager for us to try several restaurants, and we had enough left over to see us through the next day. We were so full afterwards that we may have skipped a meal…or two.
Our 34-day break in Donna, Texas comes to an end on February 1, and we’re totally refreshed and ready to start touring again. First-draft of Susan’s new children’s book is done, Simon’s long road to finishing the Africa book is nearly done, and our old friend the Gulf Coast is calling!
The short version of our last couple of weeks is much like the first couple of weeks:
Did nothing. Did nothing. Did nothing. Ate food. Did nothing.
For the longer version, keep reading.
Obviously, the only interesting part of the last two weeks is the food, but it’s also worth noting that Simon got up early a couple of mornings to play pickleball with the residents of the resort, and on the fourth day he pulled a calf muscle. Badly. But you don’t want to see him with his leg on ice, so instead, here’s some food from the fabulous Teddy’s BBQ, a dive-style place in Weslaco, TX that everyone recommends, and for a good reason.
Gotta love a place that stays open until they’re “Sold Out.” They know they’ll sell out!
Strips of red tape over the menu items let you know what has already sold out.
Happiness is what counts with husbands. Happiness, and harmony.
El Plebe was our go-to for great tacos this week, and I think you can tell we didn’t enjoy it at all.
Susan was determined to make Posole soup, and, with a side of some sort of pillowy Mexican bread we found at a bakery, we’re here to tell you it’s worth the effort.
We also visited the Farmer’s Market that comes to the RV resort once a week. A pickup truck pulls up in the parking area not far from Fati, with a man and his wife who came to this country to work hard and provide something special for their adopted community, and we were delighted to be a part of that.
We did make a trip out to the Iwo Jima Monument in Harlingen, Texas, about half an hour away.
The monument is huge.
The little museum that interprets the site closed half an hour early, so we were sad, but we stopped for a coffee at a Pilot, where Mexican Hot Chocolate was on the menu. So we were happy again.
We each took a sip, and while we were still making “yummy” noises, the guy who rang up our purchase said, “You should make the real thing. Like Mexican grandmothers make!” He then gave us the recipe, which we now bestow upon you.
Mexican Hot Chocolate In a saucepan over low heat, mix: 1 Nestle Abuelita Chocolate Tablet 12 oz. Nestle Carnation Evaporated Milk 20 oz. milk (any type) 1 Cinnamon Stick Stir until it boils and the chocolate has fully melted. Serve hot.
(You’re welcome!)
It’s hard at times to remember we’re still in the U.S., with the huge Mexican cultural influence in the area. The border wall remains a constant, though here it’s just weird sections of wall with massive gaps in between, and one notable example in the middle of nowhere, well into the U.S., and you could walk from one end to the other in about two minutes. It’s also interesting to note that 17 cities and 3 counties here passed resolutions opposing the wall.
Impressive, isn’t it? Yeah, well, this is literally the entire section of wall, and it’s a few miles inland from the border.
In spite of how wonderfully quiet this past month-plus has been, there has been some excitement. Some good, some…well…not so great.
The good is, we have such lovely neighbors to our right, and our conversations with them have made us feel that sense of belonging RVers are so great at imparting. With so little time to get to know people in this nomadic life, everyone gets right down to the friendliness without any of the small talk relationships usually start with, and it makes you feel like you’re hanging out with the kind of family you can stand being with over dinner and the holidays.
The not-so-great part has been expected, but is still not so great. Our sweet Ruthie has a new reality, and we now own a large box of doggie tinkle pads, which are helping us all cope with her process of aging. Dignity intact!
A huge change in our touring will come when we head south on Feb. 1, as we start our bounce along the Gulf Coast, heading east for the next three months. And, without wishing a single day of that time away, we’ve got a VERY exciting finale in the works! We’ll let you guess what that might be.
Catching up on the first five months of our Ultimate American Road Trip, being serialized in The Independent
Keen readers of our road-trip blog will know we are also serializing the whole trip, month by month, in The Independent newspaper in the UK, and you might like to see the story so far, Months 1 through 5.
It all started back on May 14 with our departure from Orlando and then a month heading north as far as Minnesota…
After arriving in Montana, Part Three of our year-long epic saw us focus on Yellowstone National Park and Glacier National Park for two of the undoubted highlights of the trip…
Taking time for the geothermal marvel of West Thumb Geyser Basin in Yellowstone
Seven months of busy travel had us longing for some time in one place, doing nothing. That, and we need to wait out winter a bit, since our return date to Orlando is May 14 and most of the country is freezing its whatsits off right now. Victoria Palms in Donna, Texas would be our first stop, for three (!!) whole weeks, and it made the ideal spot, with next to nothing that would tempt us away from “home.”
Here’s the short version of the blog: Weeks 1-3: Did nothing.
For the longer version, keep reading.
Wasting three hours in a post office parking lot, because we only had a one-hour drive between campgrounds and check-in isn’t until 3pm.
We were given a free one-year Thousand Trails membership with Encore Resorts when we purchased Fati, and our membership was coming to an end. Donna and Harlingen Texas each have Thousand Trails Encore Resorts, so we headed on down to the state’s Southwestern corner, where we’d spend five weeks (including a week split between South Padre Island and Brownsville, not in the Thousand Trails system) relaxing, cleaning, and writing.
Laundry day! Clean sheets! Clean rugs! Clean dog bedding!!
We did pop out for a hike at Bentsen-Rio Grande State Park where, if you’ve been following us on Facebook, you know we weren’t allowed on the tram with a dog (in spite of being told dogs are allowed everywhere) and we finally, finally saw Javelina. Eleven, in total.
To make the trip worthwhile, we stopped at the wildly popular Nana’s Taqueria, (as recommended by everyone and their brother) not far from the park. This is a local hot-spot, but it’s tucked away just enough that you won’t find it if you’re not specifically looking for it.
Nana’s courtyard feels like a plaza in Mexico.
We agreed to split a Nana’s Sampler of two steak tacos, one chalupa, and one ground beef loncha, while Simon ordered a Bohemia beer. There were seven Mexican beers on the menu, and we only knew what the Corona was like, so Susan asked our server which ones were not too heavy, and not dark. The server wasn’t sure, but said she’d ask the bartender, so Susan said, “Thank you! Just have them surprise me.”
There is a beer bottlemissing from this photo because it’s too ashamed of itself to show its face.
Our server returned with chips, salsa, the Bohemia, and a Michelob Ultra.
Now, we have a rule in our house: if you’re going to drink, drink good. In restaurants, choose something representative of the place you’re in, and, ideally, opt for something locally made.
Only once in the last four decades has Susan endured a mainstream beer, and that’s when we were in Georgia. The day had been long and taxing, and when we asked our server at the BBQ joint which craft beers they had on tap, she said, “We got Bud, and we got Bud Lite. In bottles.”
With nowhere to go but up at Nana’s, we dove into our shared meal. There’s a reason this place is so popular, from the salsa’s fresh-from-the-garden flavors to the hearty chunks of steak and silky-smooth crema that topped it all off.
Chalupa on the left, loncha in the middle, steak tacos on the right.
We gobbled like puercos (pigs), and when we were done we decided we weren’t done. Simon ordered the Tacos La Patrona, featuring three corn tortillas topped with fajita meat, queso panela, avocado, and chicharonne (deep-fried pork rinds).
Normally, Susan avoids pork rinds. Some things should not be eaten. But these…holy mother of gawd, they were SO delicious! None of that awful pig-in-a-barnyard taste, just a subtle flavor that made us feel like we were in someone’s abuela’s kitchen, eating food made by loving hands.
We’d scarfed down two of the three before we remembered to take a photo. Then Simon scarfed down the last one.
We’d had no breakfast that morning, and didn’t bother with dinner that night. We’d really only eaten the equivalent of one entrée each, but some food fills the soul as much as the belly, and nothing else was needed.
As our second week came to an end, an Arctic blast descended on the country, including southwestern Texas, and the bone-chilling cold made sure we spent three days tucked up in Fati, trying to keep warm.
We did venture out into the freeze to pick up some hot tamales from Delia’s Tamales in San Juan, Texas, not too far away. Everyone around here says Delia’s are the best, so how could we say no? You can only order them by the half-dozen or dozen, so we got three half-dozens (pork, beef, and spicy chicken in green sauce), and made them last for four meals each. A gigantic to-go cup of Horchata was enough for two. Score!
Yes, I’m wearing a robe but no, it isn’t morning or bedtime. It’s just freezing, and this is one of about four layers.
We’ve been enjoying the quiet time at “home,” doing a lot of writing (Susan’s writing a children’s book, Simon’s finishing the Africa book), so much so that we transferred our booking at a campground in Harlingen (22 miles away) and we’re staying another 11 days at Victoria Palms.
So our next blog might have more food in it, since there’s one more place we’ve been told we have to try, but really, it’s going to be, Week 3-5: Did nothing.
Here we are at the two-thirds mark of our grand ‘A Year On The Road’ RV adventure, and we have reached deep south Texas. We are currently in Donna, TX, and we have traveled a full 928 miles in the last month from our December base in Las Cruces, New Mexico.
Our route from Las Cruces took us down through El Paso to Van Horn, and then on to Alpine (for the magnificent Big Bend National Park), before heading further south to Del Rio and then Castroville for Christmas (just outside San Antonio). The New Year then took us southwest to Donna via Kingsville.
All safely set up at our RV resort in Donna, Texas. We could end up being here a whole month!
Our total RV mileage since we left home is now 8,242 and Texas is our 20th state (not counting Florida). That 928 miles probably doesn’t sound like much, but it is more than the total for months 6 and 7 combined, as we had started a significant slow-down in favor of being longer in one place and exploring further by car.
The story so far. The full track of our trip in Fati is in yellow, and our multiple side-trips in Nippy are shown in pink. We still have another 1,500 miles or so to get home!
Our little Ford Fiesta, Nippy, has put in an additional 1,558 miles in the past month, giving her a total to date of 19,708. Combined with Fati, we have driven a grand total of 27,825 miles, or basically enough to have gone right the way round the world, plus an extra 2,924 miles!
We had to make sure we didn’t arrive too early at our Donna campground, so we paid a call to the local Post Office (which had a nice empty parking lot!)
In all honesty, we are not looking to break any long-distance records at this stage. We knew we had to get some miles under our belt by January as the weather becomes a major factor at this time of year, and we need to stay as far south as possible. RVs are not built to travel far during the depths of winter and, even being this far south has had its challenges, with temps dropping below freezing several times this month. Including the wind-chill, we hit 15F/-9.5C at its coldest and, living in what amounts to a glorified tin can, that gets REALLY cold, really quickly!
Our route from here will hug the Texas coast all the way to Louisiana in March, and we should just be warming up again by then!
Today marks eight months since we locked the door to our house in Florida and set off for a year-long adventure in an RV. Here’s what we learned during the past month:
You’re going to get a suspicious look at best and serious stink eye at worst when you prance up to the grocery store checkout aisle with your fancy east-coast reusable bags. Yer in Texas now (and Wyoming, and Montana), and yer jest provin’ to us all yer not from ʼround here, ya big girl’s blouse.
Don’t fool yourself by thinking that banner above the cart corral in the parking lot that reads, “Don’t Forget Your Reusable Bag” has any real meaning. You WILL be the only one using them. Baggers inside the store will conveniently find a way to move to another aisle when they see you coming. It’s the law.
Those weird little thrown-together meals you’ve been eating, often just consisting of a Nature Valley Chewy Bar or a can of soup, don’t offset all the time you spend sitting as you’re touring around. Sure, you’ll get some exercise walking and doing a little hiking, but if you thought you were going to shed the pounds like rain off a duck’s back, you now know how wrong you were. That ain’t happenin’.
Jumping up and dancing to the Peloton commercial that comes on every five minutes counts as exercise.
Christmas is hard. Not being with the people we love hangs like a constant, low-grade sadness as the day draws near. Driving around looking at all the beautiful lights and watching happy families gather at restaurants for pre-holiday celebrations makes it feel like, this year, Christmas is happening to other people and we’re just spectators. We knew from the very first moment we started planning the trip that Christmas would be hard. It’s harder.
Stop obsessing about the seal in the toilet bowl. Lots of things shrink when they’re too cold. It’ll hold water again once it warms up.
When you’re parked outside a U.S./Mexico border crossing and there are no guards there, but you can smell marijuana like it’s being burned in a bonfire and the air is so thick you could get a contact high in minutes, it’s time to leave before you get involved in something you want nothing to do with.
When you’re in a big city and jonsing for a great meal at a downtown restaurant, make sure you know if there’s an event that’s going to have the traffic in gridlock. And use the bathroom before you leave home, because sitting in that traffic jam will put massive pressure on your mind and your bladder.
When you’re stuck in a downtown traffic jam with a bladder so full the whites of your eyes are turning yellow, just do the smart thing and run into the nearest bar. You’ll have time. And if you’re the driver with a full bladder, let your passenger take over the car’s slow crawl while you run like hell.
Staying in one place for three weeks was absolutely unthinkable when we started the trip. Why waste one moment not seeing the country? By month eight, it’s a blessing. Unplugging our brains gave us the chance to feel fresh and excited again, and to work on other book projects we’ve put on the back burner. It felt great to “stay home” for a little while.
At eight months into it, we’re starting to feel the end of the trip getting closer. What a bittersweet emotion. We’ll be ready to be home again when the time comes, but wow…we’re going to miss this so much. We’re not sure we’ll stop entirely, and plans to think about maybe, possibly, continuing in some form have already been cautiously discussed. What a change from Month Two. We call that progress!
