Farewell Tropic Star

April 9th ... one week beyond our three month booking in Pharr, Texas we felt it was time for us to begin our homeward trek.  Being restricted as to how much time we can be out of Canada really curtails our travels.  Where we would like to go and where weather permits us to go during our allotted exile are two different things!  So in order to comply with government mandates we had to bid adieu to fellow Winter Texans and our comfortable life style at Tropic Star to once again head the truck in a north easterly direction.

Feeling sorry for ourselves we drove along in companionable silence until Harwood's attention was aroused by flashing blue lights quickly approaching from behind.  Just as he mentioned them to me ... WHOOSH ... a nondescript black van flew past us with a police car practically riding the bumper.  We watched in awe as, in tandem, the two vehicles wove in and out and around the traffic ahead of us without any sign of slowing down.  Eventually the van pulled onto the shoulder and while it was still coasting toward a fence we counted eleven men hurtle themselves from the van, vault over the fence sprinting at breakneck speed into the nearby bush.  What could the lone officer do but sit and watch as he called in recruits?  Realization hit us ... we had witnessed first hand a high speed car chase involving Mexican illegals!

Following the road less traveled, as we tend to do, eventually lead us to Galveston Island.  Seasoned RVers suggested bypassing Houston with its constantly congested traffic by taking the ferry from Galveston.  Our friends, Ray & Cheryl, had done so in January assuring us the ferry could accommodate big rigs and, best of all, as part of the Texas highway system there was no fee for crossing!  Who could resist?  We waited a few minutes in one of four lanes of vehicles lined up to board the ferry.  Amazingly, under the experienced direction of  polite ferry personnel, everyone safely drove onto the waiting vessel, the ramps were secured, the great motors surged with power and we were off!  Exactly sixteen minutes later, at the tip of Bolivar Peninsula, the whole procedure was reversed as we drove onto the landing ... where another four lanes of traffic were waiting to utilize the ferry's return trip.  Thus we completed another first time experience.

Only ten miles from the ferry landing we discovered a campground to house us overnight.  While setting up the trailer we were once again reminded of what a small part of the world we occupy.  As RVers do, the fellow beside us struck up a conversation while we hooked up our utility services.  Usually the first question is, "Where are you from?"  Turns out, the gentleman we were talking to lives in Essex, Ontario AND he was a school friend/neighbour of our good friend, Bernard.  They owned adjacent farms and as retirees met for coffee together on a regular basis thereby cementing many years of close friendship.  The  three of us reminisced about the good times shared with Bernard during his lifetime.  How we miss that man!

 Exploring  Bolivar Peninsula proved interesting.  It is a very narrow spit of land between the Gulf of Mexico and Galveston Bay.  The bay affords Houston (and surrounding cities) sea-port access for huge ocean going vessels.  On terra ferme one highway runs the length of the peninsula along which we discovered just one continuous community.  It is comprised of brightly painted painted houses, built to avoid possible flooding, on 16-20 foot high stilts.

These colourful dwellings are scattered haphazardly along the sandy shores of the gulf ... no need to cut grass in this community although the wild flowers are spectacular!  During hot summer months this beach front community thrives on the use of it's beaches.  The sand along the shore is hard packed, road worthy, to provide ample opportunity for sun worshipers to amuse themselves.  This time of year we found the ever present wind causing huge white capped muddy breakers to pound against the shore bringing with them excessive flotsam.  However currently uninviting I'm sure the beaches are well groomed during high season and provide welcome relief from soaring temperatures for a great number of people.

Because we were only ten miles from the ferry, and since it was free, we elected to return to Galveston for the opportunity to experience a bit of the city.  As we drove along the seawall we felt as if we were back home in Niagara Falls driving along Clifton Hill ... except the ocean was within plain view.  The beaches in Galveston were much cleaner and we noticed several people braving the buffeting wind as they strolled, or jogged, along. Hopeful fishermen patiently watched their lines from various piers.  Big fancy hotels boasting luxurious surroundings lined the other side of the seawall.  Restaurants and bars flashed welcoming neon signs.  Pulsating music beckoned.  We drove past "Pleasure Pier" on which a two story Bubba Gump restaurant sat amid a brightly lit midway.  At the far end of the pier a ferris wheel created intricate patterns of coloured lights presenting a pretty kaleidoscopic effect reflected in the water.  As darkness closed in Har and I were content to return to the trailer feeling as if we our 2014 visit Texas was complete.  We have done and seen a lot these past three months!

   Good bye, proud Texas with your     pretty springtime roadside flowers!