Austin to Port Aransas; by way of a couple state parks we haven’t been to before. We did the drive-through, and found a tiny little back road that wound its way through the eleven miles of hill country forest between them. A charming drive.
I remember my parents taking me to Hearst Castle when I was young. We did the tour. A house like that; a castle; such excess. It was so outside the realm of the possible it was a stunning experience. Now, we have resort hotels. Excess outside the realm of personal possibility. An atrium the size of a city block, complete with streams, waterfalls, pools, and fountains with pedestrian paths and yard trains winding throughout (they had me with the yard trains). Rambling manicured grounds. More paths, pools, fireplaces, and a vineyard outside. Now, access to castles is more easily attained.
But we’ve moved on. A wandering drive on country highways. We watched at least twenty-five dolphins on our little ferry boat ride across the channel. We’re back on the island, reunited with our motorhome and our neighbors. Home in time for a home-cooked dinner; a dinner that cost less than a hundred dollars.
It’s good to be home.
