We were, after surviving the reception and its aftermath - the cleanup, the settling with the caterers, the sorting out of where to pile the gifts, the management of all the out-of-towners - obliged to spend our first married night in San Antonio; next day we packed up our traveling outfits, hopped a plane to Houston, then drove a rental car to Galveston. We made the trip mainly to see Dad, whose health kept him from the wedding, and to play Tourist as well, which was a great novelty for me, as I'd grown up on the Island with an attitude that tolerated tourists, but just barely, on account of their spending money. So there we were, poised to do a little spending of our own, as we were on a sort of brief honeymoon.
Now it is true that Galveston is not wanting in hotel accomodations; but there are lodgings, and there are lodgings, and it was determined that something beyond the standard hotel or motel was in order (and with the best will in the world I'd not have inflicted us on Dad, room or no). So some months earlier on one of my regular visits from Houston I located a very special bed and breakfast, one that was afloat: the Stacia-Leigh. It is not often one has the chance to spend a few nights on board Mussolini's former yacht, now a charming, floating bed-and-breakfast, but to me it seemed the height of class, and so reservations were made beforehand for our stay. We were put in the Truman Suite, located right for'ard beneath deck level, with the former "doghouse" as a skylight, and were quite comfortable indeed.
The Stacia-Leigh from the East, the Union Station building on 25th St. in the background, the Ship Channel beneath.
Some of us hadn't been out in the sun for awhile.
Whereas some of us looked a lot better.
Berthed nearby at the Texas Seaport Museum at Pier 21 is the Elissa, a beautifully restored 1877 iron barque which makes regular journeys under canvas, and which exerted a magnetic force upon certain bearded nautical-fiction enthusiasts.
Like this one.
And, of course, his sympathetic wife.
We pretty much eschewed the beach - a crowded scene early in June - and spent most of our time walking along the Strand and visiting nearby sites dear to my Youth.
One example is the cloister of Trinity Episcopal Church, in whose Day School the fellow in the picture attended the First and Second Grades, in rooms to his immediate left.
Nearby is the charming sculpture of a Girl and Butterfly done by the late David Moore, an old family friend whose many bronzes may be seen on the Island, particularly the 1900 Storm Monument on the Seawall near 53rd St. The lovely lady in the floral print gives the scale.
A block away, south on 23rd St. is the Rosenberg Library, where I spent many younger days developing a lifelong passion for reading. Mr. Rosenberg was one of Galveston's great philanthropists - he gave the library to the city - and his statue graces the Library's East front.
It was quite nice, the weather was pleasant, the sea-breeze counteracting the June warmth, we ate like lords at various decent restaurants after consuming excellent Stacia-Leigh breakfasts, we napped as much as we pleased and were under no obligation to rush to and fro. Three nights, three days, and on Thursday we made our departure, as Sharon had to be back at work next day. And so we returned to San Antonio, and the mountains of boxes and furniture that had been moved from Houston, and Real Life.
And this is how it gets approached now, through the courtyard gates and in and out the front door; which is as it should be, I think.
But wait! After more than a year we went to the United Kingdom for a more substantial honeymoon, an illustrated account of which may be found by looking here.
January 24, 2004
Copyright 2001-2004 by Mark W. Fowler. All Rights Reserved.