Here’s what I’ll remember about the Alamo: crowds and
traffic. It’s true what they say, that there’s really nothing much to it. If
Clyde hadn’t pointed it out, I would have missed it completely.
This is in contrast to the rest of San Antonio, which is huge.
I was surprised to learn that it’s bigger than Dallas. So why does Dallas get
all the attention?
But after Houston’s endless freeways and strip malls, San
Antonio is charming, historic, and loaded with character. As we drove through
Clyde’s old neighborhood, Alamo Heights, I thought of how this city reminds me
in equal parts of Omaha and Pueblo: Omaha for the hills, lack of sidewalks, and
thick tree lined streets; and Pueblo for the mixture of old and new, and pervasive
historic Spanish influence.
Only I would make that comparison.
San Antonio is part of that often overlooked, rich southwest
swath of the U.S. which includes Santa Fe and Albuquerque. You cannot be here
without acknowledging that Americans come in all flavors, speak multiple
languages, and thrive in diverse cultures.
But America it is: San Antonio is one of the more overweight
of cities. Obesity is a huge deal here.
After the 24 crash course in San Antonio, it’s back to
Houston to celebrate Clyde’s mother’s birthday.
It’s fun to be with Clyde’s family: sister, nieces, nephew,
and mother. They are friendly, generous people. I’m already looking forward to
the next Texas visit.
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