Corpus Christi is about 400 miles south of Dallas – about 6
hours drive – on the Gulf Coast. Well ... the main part of Corpus Christi is
not on the Gulf coast, because it is protected from the Gulf of Mexico by the
200 square miles of Corpus Christi Bay, behind the barrier islands of Padre
Island and Mustang Island.
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| Pelicans "cleaning up" |
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| Rust bucket! |
I didn't realize, when I booked the hotel, that it was the
tail end of Spring Break – the traditional time when American high-schoolers
head for the shore and anywhere that will offer sun, parties, booze, and a
generally unfettered lifestyle. Fortunately, the only effect on me was rather
more traffic than I had anticipated.
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| Corpus Christi harbor |
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| USS Lexington |
I drove down on Friday, leaving Dallas at around 9am, and
getting to my hotel around 5pm – slightly longer than Google maps had
predicted, but I did stop once or twice along the way. After a day's
travelling, I felt like a nice steak, and getting to bed. A quick search on the
web (I had to carry my laptop with me because it's my week to provide “support”
for the system I'm working on) revealed a nearby steakhouse with reasonable
reviews. I won't name it, but don't go there – a pile of iceberg lettuce, two
slices of cucumber, and a sliver of tomato does not, in my book, constitute a
salad. The steak was ok, and the price was not exorbitant, so I was disappointed,
but not too unhappy.
The following
morning, I headed for the downtown area, because I'd read in a hotel guide book
that a boat tour of the bay could be found at “the People St T”. As an aside,
when I called the hotel for directions, they told me to take the SPID – once
you know that this is the local abbreviation for the South Padre Island Drive,
it's easy. Similarly, if you know that the People St T is a T-shaped marina
located where People St meets the water, things make a lot more sense.
The marina was fascinating. I don't know what it is about
shoreline communities, especially in the warmer climes, but they all have a
similar atmosphere. I'm thinking of Miami, and the Keys, of Marina Del Ray in
Los Angeles, of several places in the Caribbean, and even of the New Jersey
Shore. Casual, relaxed, slow – call it what you will. You can tell the local
vehicles in Corpus Christi – they're covered in a fine film of salty dust, and
instead of “cow-catchers” and gun-racks, they have a rack at the rear to hold a
cooler-chest and fishing gear. There's no point in trying to fight this, and
nobody does.
When I arrived at the
T, it was easy to find a parking space. It filled up relentlessly during the
course of the day, but, when I arrived, it was mostly locals (predominantly
Hispanic) buying fish from the boats that had recently docked. Pelicans and
black-headed gulls swarmed around to clean up the remains.
The boat trip took about an hour, and cruised around the bay,
including a close-up view of the USS Lexington. It wasn't crowded, and it was
as much fun people-watching as it was seeing the shoreline from a distance. I'd
guess that 75% of the people on board were Hispanic families – everyone else
was probably already at the beach.
After the boat trip, I had lunch at Landry's Seafood House –
a famous chain of seafood restaurants. It's so popular that it suffers the fate
of so many large restaurants. If you've ever eaten at Schmidt's on Charlotte
Street in London, you'll know what I mean – it was obviously once very good,
but quality doesn't scale very well. The menu was extensive, but the service
was slow (I had Cuban shrimp with polenta fries, washed down with a Cadillac
margarita).
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| Americans trying to teach their SUVs to swim |
After seeking some advice from the Visitors' Center, I
drove down Shoreline Boulevard, past houses that have to be seen to be
believed, to Padre Island, where I could quickly paddle in the Gulf of Mexico.
On a European beach, if it’s popular, it’s crowded with beach umbrellas, sun
loungers, and glistening bodies slowly being broiled by the sun; on the Gulf
coast, just about every square inch of beach is taken up by partying
Spring-breakers and their SUVs. There is nowhere to walk without having to
dodge the traffic (yes – this is on the beach), and certainly nowhere to be
alone with your thoughts. If you don’t like crowds, if you don’t like
constantly competing blaring car stereo systems, if you don’t like the thought
of police cars patrolling up and down the beach, this is not the place for you.
So I was glad to get back on the road (because, like everyone else, I drove
down to the water's edge), along Mustang Island, past queues of cars waiting to
get down to the beach via the access roads for the Saturday night festivities,
to the free ferry that would take me back to the mainland to complete my trip
around the bay.
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| St Mary's |
On Sunday, I planned my return deliberately to take
more leisurely back roads (Route 77), past the largest squirrel in Texas, through
Taft, and the “queen of the painted churches” – an elaborate Catholic church
outside Schulenburg. Catholic churches in rural Texas are somewhat unusual,
and, I imagine, owe their existence to a significant German early immigrant
population.
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| Selena |
Oh, I forgot to mention Selena. Selena was a very
popular Mexican-American singer (“the queen of Tejano music”) who has her roots
in Corpus Christi. She died tragically in 1995, murdered by the president of
her fan club. I remember hearing about it, but wasn’t aware of the huge
significance to the Hispanic community – not only here, but throughout America.
A memorial to her was erected at the “T”, and there is also a museum. It was
difficult to squeeze in between the constant stream of latino admirers to get a
photograph.
Back at the hotel, I am slightly redder than usual, in
spite of the sun-block, but my toes feel definitely better for having been
dipped in the Gulf of Mexico.
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| Aunt Aggie De's in Sinton |
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| Taft, "Friendliest Cotton Pickin' Town in Texas" |
