"The Way West"...Day 82...Monday, September 3, 2012

For whatever reason, I am wide awake at 4:30AM on this Labor Day morning. No one else is up, so I quietly microwave a cup of yesterday's coffee and slip outside for a cigar. It's hot outside before sunup...it's probably the same temperature here as in Dallas, but it's much more humid.
Around 6:00, Roger is up, and he makes a fresh pot of coffee while we sit around outside. We've decided to drive down to Galveston today...check it out...have lunch...visit the American Legion Post. But, before we leave, there's "stuff" to do...showers, laundry, trash disposal, etc. It's nearly noon before we set out for Galveston.
The drive down is fun...lots of oil refineries,,,the occasional glimpse of the ocean. I first visited Galveston back in the early 80's...what a difference now. Thirty years and several hurricanes later, it's a mere "shadow" of what it used to be. Back in the 80's, you drove down Seawall Blvd., and there miles of tightly packed hotels, restaurants, bars and clubs. Now these are few and far between...lots of empty spaces and vacant property.
There are no "great" restaurants...those are long gone...washed away in some nameless hurricane. The restaurants that are left are OK, at best...geared for the meager tourist trade. We decide to eat at "Casey's", a casual restaurant run by the Gaido family. The Margaritas are good, but the food is mediocre. My "Stuffed Shrimp" are "stuffed" with something that looks and tastes like fishy wallpaper paste.
After lunch, we drive over to the local American Legion for a few beers. The patrons at the bar are friendly, the bartender cute, and the beers cold.
Back at camp, I start to do some preliminary packing up. I've been looking at my atlas, plotting the route home...and it looks like my best bet is to go home via New Orleans...lucky me.
Around 7:00PM, we head back to Gilhooley's for some more of those fabulous Grilled Oysters. We are crestfallen to learn that they are "out" of oysters this particular evening...no raw, no grilled, no fried. So...we have to make do with shrimp...some grilled, some fried...and, while they're not oysters, they are still pretty darn good.
Back at camp, Roger and Gretchen help me pack up the last of my stuff. It's a 350 mile drive to New Orleans tomorrow, and I want to get an early start.
Once the packing is complete, we relax with a few beers...some wine...off to bed.