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San Antonio, Texas
If I hide myself wherever I go, am I ever really there?
The big thing in downtown San Antonio isn't the Alamo (although it is better than you think it is) or the view from atop the Tower of the Americas (the city looks better at ground level) or their big art museum (Dallas and Houston and even Austin have far, far better art), but rather San Antonio's famed Riverwalk which is, for lack of a better description, a river with a walk along its side. There are shops and restaurants and boat rides and, um, I don't know, maybe a duck or something to look at. It's not that it's not pretty (it is) or crowded (it normally is), it's just that it's a bit of a one trick pony that doesn't realize it's a one trick pony. To sum it all up, it's one of the sights that every American should probably try and see, especially if they only have a few hours or so (and no more) to kill.
Forget the Riverwalk and get out of downtown, follow the river and you'll be rewarded for what you see. San Antonio Missions National Historic Park covers all of the non-Alamo missions, a series of (still in use) historic churches and complexes that stretch south of the city along a shockingly unorganized parkway system. All of the missions have their own character, although my favorite (and I suspect many people's favorite) was San Jose, a church, part in ruins, surrounded by a high wall and (on the Sunday I visited) alive with a very entertaining Spanish speaking service, something that made the enforced solemnity of the Alamo feel even more boring than usual by comparison.
To try and add some much needed immediacy to the slideshow, I am adding a wingside iPhone photo taken this past Thursday night, miles above the clouds and somewhere between Newark and Houston (likely over northern Louisiana, although I could be wrong). I have been to Texas a lot in the last year or two or three, especially if you count transfers through Continental's hub at Houston's sprawling Bush Intercontinental Airport (named after the good Bush, in case you were wondering). A quick check of my Tripit account comes up with 15 stopovers at Houston just since the start of the year. I have flown enough through Houston Bush that I can tell you where the best restaurant is (Real Food near Gate C34), where the best Presidents Club is (the third floor of the club at Terminal E, at the ellipse near the bridge to Terminal D), and whether or not it is likely I can make a connection based solely on the type of aircraft I am flying in and out of (the most impressive feat by far if I may say so myself). And while I have made it from Terminal B to Gate E20 in less than 10 minutes (surprising even the Continental gate agent who thought I had no chance of making a connecting flight), I also know the airport well enough that I also now know how to kill time there without killing myself or others, probably the most important skill of all.
The flight in and out of Houston itself is a quick three and a half hours, and on the way back you can choose to sit on the left side of the plane for the Washington DC and Baltimore views or on the right for the much lower, 10,000 fasl fly over of Center City Philadelphia (especially impressive on a clear night). This picture is from a southbound plane and from a non upgraded seat (I'm currently at about a 75% free upgrade rate for this year and yes, I am keeping stats on that for no good reason), about an hour (or so) before Houston where on Thursday night I needed to connect to another flight to San Antonio, which unfortunately was cancelled on me by the time I landed (not the end of the world but not without extra costs). Eventually I did get to and back from a rainy San Antonio, finished my work, hunted down a barbecue restaurant recommended by someone I work with (it was pretty good), stayed at a surprisingly nice hotwire hotel and planned to include one of those pictures in the slideshow but, as you can probably already tell, decided to keep with the window sunset view over northern Louisiana from yet another outbound flight to Houston.
I didn't have all that much time in Birmingham, Alabama- I drove down from Huntsville on a winter weekend with the constant threat of bad weather- but even with a short amount of time I was still able to walk the amazing Sloss Furnace site, and not only to see it but also to have it completely to myself. After paying a small admission, I was set free on the site with a useless map and allowed to do what I wanted, walking around the furnaces and industrial ruins, wide eyed with my camera at the ready. A great, great ruin and one of the best things (if not the very best thing) you can do in Alabama.
The rather prominent ass side view of the pagan god Vulcan, high atop a mountain (or hill, depending on your perspective I guess) overlooking Birmingham, Alabama. It is possible to get even closer to Vulcan by paying a few dollars, taking the elevator up and then circling the perimeter balcony just below. The view of Birmingham from the top isn't all that much better than from the statue's base (you are atop a hill or mountain after all) but the view up at Vulcan that close is more interesting or, from certain angles, more disturbing.
If you were driving from Birmingham to Huntsville, you might want to break up the ride by making a quick stop at the Ave Maria Grotto, a roadside attraction featuring little tiny models of famous religious sites that were lovingly created by what must have been a really, really, really bored priest.
Outside of Huntsville, after you drive West on 72 for longer than you planned and then brave local roads through a generally abandoned town, you eventually find yourself at one of the most disturbing places you have ever been, the world famous Unclaimed Baggage Center in Scottsboro, Alabama where all of the salvageable things strangers have left on planes are on display, all available for resale at amazing discounts.
What kind of things are on sale? Clothes to start with, lots of clothes. Jackets, pants, jeans (a lot of people lose jeans), shoes, suits, socks, even underwear. But it's not just clothes, it's large items like skis, bicycles, kids toys and exercise equipment. And it's not just large items, it's also electronics like cameras, chargers, phones, tripods, lenses and stacks and stacks of iPods, all with serial numbers and all with the original owners' playlists. The Unclaimed Baggage Center supposedly comes upon all of these things legally, although it's pretty damn hard to believe that someone who lost a tripod (or iPod) would decide not to claim it and just let the airline keep it and sell it for next to nothing in Alabama. The whole place seemed creepy, the merchandise felt stolen and the people shopping with full shopping carts seemed like true bottom feeders. So while I could have easily walked out of that building with someone else's skis, someone else's iPod and someone else's underwear, I decided to take a pass and make sure (as always) to remember not to check any luggage when I fly unless I absolutely have to, or if I do and the airline loses it, to remember to quickly fly down to Alabama where I can buy it all back at amazing discount prices.
