Pandemic Playtime: Ol' San Antone

Remember The Alamo?

Remember The Alamo!

We do.  Fondly.

Traffic on Thanksgiving Day out of Dallas was normal to light. We left at around noon and headed out on our first day of our Pandemic Playtime adventure. I had booked a one-night stay at the Historic Menger Hotel, an establishment built in 1859 (burned in 1924 and rebuilt) and filled with memories of historic and flamboyant personages, events and some say dozens of ghosts.

The Menger Hotel, Alamo Plaza, San Antonio

We checked in (wearing masks) to our room on the second floor, which looked over the south wall of the Alamo. It crossed my mind that our window view would have looked out over smoldering carnage and bodies in March of 1836. Now in 2020 we looked over the south wall of the Alamo compound and on-going construction work in the alley below, in an otherwise heavily touristed plaza. Maybe there are ghosts still here. Some historians believe that Davy Crockett fell where the lobby of the Menger Hotel now stands. 

Our room was above on the 2nd floor

More easily documented at the Menger is the presence of Theodore Roosevelt, who recruited volunteers for his Rough Riders cavalry regiment here at the Menger Hotel. The Rough Riders went on to fight  in Cuba in the Spanish-American War. There is plenty of Teddy Roosevelt memorabilia on display in the Menger, including a cavalry uniform worn by a veteran Rough Rider, significant in that it looked tailored to fit my very slight daughter of 100 pounds. The veteran who donated his uniform attested that he carried the cavalry guidon up Kettle Hill in battle, he survived I surmise because he was such a small target.

The hotel lobby opens onto Alamo Plaza, now decorated for Christmas and late November tourists. While poking around in the Menger's interior atrium, we encountered a Swedish couple drinking Champaign and relaxing. This was there seventh year to come to San Antonio in November; it wasn't said, but I Imagine the overcast 73 degree weather in San Antonio was found to be preferable to Stockholm's climate at this time of year. I told the man, "My people also came here from Sweden, but that was 140 years ago - and we've stayed. My name is Suneson."

He grinned at me, and re-pronounced my name, "Oh; sun-ey-SUHN!" with a flourish of his free hand.

I grinned back, "You speak Swedish very well." 

We nodded with mutual smiles as Sue and I left the atrium to mosey along the River Walk and settle on a place to eat our dinner this Thanksgiving evening.

Unexpected Consequences: CDC Orders - "Don't touch your face."
Mark now looks the part of Santa Clause after 9 months without shaving or a haircut.
Ho Ho Ho!

A Texas-sized Tree
With a Lone Star on top

We had a nice, mid-morning breakfast before we left home. We only stopped to fill the SUV's tank, I said I preferred to skip a travel-stop lunch and enjoy a meal on the River Walk in the evening. On the way south, the odometer turned 222,222 miles in San Marcos. The only significance I could think of was that it was Thanksgiving and Thanksgiving is always on a Thursday. This odometer reading should have happened on a "2's-Day." But in 2020, nothing seems to happen as it is supposed to happen.

We moseyed and we sauntered as we wove in and out among the healthy crowd [healthy in large numbers, not that we could tell who was unhealthy and shedding viruses] of River Walkers. We would pause to read the posted menus and filed their offerings away in our minds as possible places to dine al fresco. Many restaurants were dark, closed due to company policy or economics of the pandemic. Most of the places specializing in alcoholic beverages were open; which makes me believe the restaurants that were dark closed out of economic necessity, since those that served the thirsty public appeared to be well patronized. 

We mosey along on the San Antonio's River Walk

It looks like a 'White Christmas'
by the looks of Mark's head and face

 We pretty much walked from one end of the River Walk, to the other; coming out and poking around the Hemisfair Plaza, where that 'modern' architecture that screams 1960's still stands as a tribute to the 1968 World's Fair that San Antonio hosted. I remember when people used to gather and show their faces at large scale, multi-day events and didn't have a care in the world. 

 We passed by a plethora of flowering plants, in our stroll. The large Bougainvillea caught Sue's eye as she has been particularly proud of her potted 'bougy' on our deck and its profuse set of blooms this year. 

A River boat tour cruises past and open-air restaurant

The sun begins to set, the air is shirt-sleeve warm, my tastes are running toward salt and lime. It is too soon to look for turkey leftovers. I announce my preference for dinner on Thanksgiving night, "I'd like to eat Tex-Mex - and that mean a mean margarita to start off with."

The pretty senorita who has been following me pauses at an outdoor eating establishment featuring Tex-Mex food. I walk up behind her and whisper to the hostess, "A table for two, por favor. On the patio with a view of the river." The pretty senorita in front of me hesitates for a moment, I catch her arm and urge her to follow the hostess to the table on the patio. 

She takes a seat under the festive lights in the dusk of the old town. She removes her mask and ah-ha! It's my wife! I am delighted that I have chosen so well. She smiles at me once her veil has dropped from her lips and she invites me to enjoy the evening with her.

A bowl of chips and a bowl of salsa land on our table, soon followed by my salt-rimmed margarita. The lady chooses a fruit-forward cider and is happy. I am happy. I am Thankful. This Pandemic Playtime is going to work out just fine. 

A table with the lovely, unveiled senorita
Thanksgiving Night's Dinner
in old San Antone

Returning to the Menger after dinner, I suggest that we have to try our luck at seeing Teddy Roosevelt's ghost in the Menger Bar. There are stories that Teddy haunts the Menger bar, but I'm quite skeptical of those stories, they seem implausible, even for ghost stories. I did a bit of research on every president's favorite drink, and Teddy mostly abstained from strong drink, though he did admit that he enjoyed maybe half-a-dozen mint juleps over the course of a year from the mint patch at the White House.

The old Menger bar is paneled in dark wood and is quite cozy. I ordered a mint julep in the name of TR; the bartender tells me he would make a good one, except he doesn't have any mint. I feel this is a dishonor to Teddy. I am even more skeptical now that TR's ghost would ever visit this place. I choose a Long Island Ice Tea, since Theodore Roosevelt lived and died on Long Island. Sue licks her lips at the idea of a tumbler of Bailey's Irish Cream. I tip the barkeep well since he is working on Thanksgiving and he tells me the Menger ghost have been very quiet since the pandemic. Alas, just as I suspected. We take our glasses up the narrow stairs to the paneled loft, a place filled with history and artifacts from the Rough Riders.

The Swedish couple whom we met in the atrium this afternoon comes up the stairs after we are well into our drinks. As we finish, I raise a glass to the Swedes and say, "It's a pleasure to see you again. Perhaps we'll meet again this time next year?" He nods and smiles as we descend the staircase and find the narrow elevator that will take us to our ghost-free room.

In the morning, we take our breakfast in the Menger's Continental Room. We take another brief morning walk along the River Walk before we bid adios, and check out. We are heading to the Gulf Coast and the beach via Corpus Christ. A new and undiscovered part of Texas for us.