On a Mission, part 1

Tops on our list of tourist attractions to cover during Joan's first trip to San Antonio in a decade was the Missions. Especially since she'd never seen any of them other than the Alamo, and I, shamefully, had only gone one better.

We started out with the one I have seen before, San José (official name: Mission San José y San Miguel de Aguayo), which is also the site which provides my new blog banner. Here is another view of the impressive church with some of its side structures, taken from within a doorway in one of the restored mission rooms:

There has actually been quite a lot of restoration work at this mission over the years, but that doesn't detract from its loveliness or historical interest. The Park Service informational signs give you a good record of its ups and downs as a site that's been by turns sacred, abandoned, re-discovered, neglected, mis-used, and, finally, treasured and protected.

The whole grounds are interesting, but the highlights, in addition to the chapel (pictures coming up) are the arches which form an arcade along one side of the mission complex. Great photo opps here!

Some of the interior spaces are quite impressive, too. For example, there's this round room you can see on the right, with incredibly thick walls and picturesque tiny windows. We were to learn by seeing some similar structures elsewhere in this complex and at some of the other missions, that it was a kind of guard house or defensive bulwark where attacking Indians could be fired upon from safety. Most of the rooms of this type, however, were much smaller than this one, which must be 20 feet or so in diameter.

Another even more spectacular interior space is the granary, shown in the picture below. You can also see some of the original colorful decorations that at one time graced the exteriors of all the missions as well, at least to the best of archeologist's knowledge. There is a remnant of the exterior decoration at San José on the side of the chapel's exterior wall, in the picture on the left above.

The jewel of San José, and perhaps of the whole mission system, is its elaborately Baroque chapel. The limestone carvings and statuary around the doors and windows are fine examples of Spanish colonial style. While the mission itself was established in 1720, construction of the chapel began in 1768, the "peak of the mission's development," according to the Park brochure, when 350 Indians lived there.

The most famous bit of carving is around the "Rose Window," which I can remember puzzled me mightily when I first saw it, since I was expecting a window like the ones with that name in European cathedrals. But there is an intriguing mystery surrounding this window in addition to the impressive stonework. Was it called the "Rose Window" because of the lost love, named Rosa, of the stonemason who carved it? Or was it named for St. Rose of Lima, first saint of the New World? Or was it given its name to confuse tourists with a smattering of art history knowledge?

Here is more of the beautiful stonework (some of it partially restored, some original) adorning the chapel:

And here is a shot showing more of the facade, so you can see where the doors fit in:

Church services are still held in the chapel, as they are at each of the missions, which makes them even more impressive structures—still important parts of their communities, even as the modern city has grown up around them. [Weddings are held here, too—including one of my sister-in-law's!]

After touring San José we headed off downstream (all the missions, logically enough, were founded along the banks of the San Antonio River) to see the other three non-Alamo missions. None of these other sites are as well-preserved and/or restored as San José, but each one holds particular interest for the tourist. And since I'd never seen them before, I was excited about the journey. I'll have pictures from these other missions in my next post.

Wordless Wednesday: reflections

A very busy week

I have been very busy since my last post, hosting and being a fellow hometown tourist with my visiting sister. Still the best way to see your hometown: with an out of town guest. Which explains the lack of interim posts. Only being very busy would keep me from blogging—well, that and occasional lack of internet access.

At any rate, I have stored up a real hoard of photos, experiences, and stories that I'll be doling out over the next couple of weeks. But for starters, I want to show you the new section of our famous Riverwalk, the older part of which (mostly constructed in the '30's by the WPA) looks a lot like the above picture.

Just a couple of weeks ago, though, they opened a whole new extension north of downtown, and it has, at least for now, a quite different, more open and less commercial, feel. It also involves an elevation change significant enough to require mechanical assistance if you're floating. Here is a photo taken at the locks by a helpful city employee (notice boats in the background, one of which we were able to see go through the lock).

Incidentally, we walked rather than boated—at just a little over a mile, it was a nice stroll.

The idea behind this extension is to connect downtown with some near-town tourist attractions, and it does so quite nicely. Its name—"Museum Reach"—tells you one of the destinations, our San Antonio Museum of Art, seen here from the walkway on the other side of the river:

The current extension ends up at a rather exciting new commercial area that's just coming online, taking over the space originally occupied by the Pearl Brewery. We ended our walk there with a nice brunch and caffeinated refreshments at the Texas Farm to Table, one of the few establishments open there now. More seems to be on the way, however, and it should be a really interesting urban space.

[Incidentally, the afore-pictured art museum lives where the Lone Star Brewery used to be....have San Antonians stopped drinking beer, replacing it with art and upscale food? Not hardly, but it's not brewed here anymore.]

Plans call for the Museum Reach eventually to extend upstream to the Witte Museum, which is darned close to the spring that marks the origin of the river—can't go much farther than that and still call it a "riverwalk"!

We were quite impressed with the quality of the walkway and its amenities, from frequent benches (and even public restrooms!) to interesting informational displays teaching us some local history with the exercise.

The neatest features, though, are the public art. The older sections of the Riverwalk have some mosaics like the one above on the right, and other items of interest and whimsy.

But the new section has gone all out in the public art department and come up with some experiences that are surely going to become signature highlights of the area. The most elaborate is the "grotto," which features a cave with a face/fountain within it (see at the left) and a collection of faux stalactites among the pools.

Some of the stalactites sport shell decorations to boot, as you can see in the picture below:

Very imaginative!

The prize, however, goes to the fabulous fishes suspended under the highway 281 bridge. They light up at night, which I'd really like to see sometime, but even just in their daytime colors they make quite a spectacle from the vantage point of the walkway.

In addition to lengthening this northward expansion of the Riverwalk, they've also started extending it south of downtown, in the direction of the missions, the earliest examples of public art in these parts. I'll have pictures from our touring down that way in posts to come. The rest of the summer promises to be a little on the
dullroutine side, so I will try and make the most of the material gathered during this busy, tourist-y week.

Wordless Wednesday: two states of mind

Texas, past and present

Back to writing about Texas for a while.

Yesterday we took a paddle on a new river [just new to paddling, not to seeing, because we see it a lot]—the San Antonio! Henry and I, along with several of our boating friends, joined a considerably larger group for a special touring of the Goliad Paddling Trail, about 2 hours southeast of San Antonio [the town] and a ways downstream. It was a very different river experience from our usual—no rocks to scrape, ample water flowing, very different trees to admire, and muddy boats to clean up afterwards!

It was quite enjoyable, especially for Henry. One of the boats was his newest purchase, whose previous owner's designation—the Piddle Paddle—he wasn't quick enough to erase. I think nickname will stick! (see above)

As a particular treat, to supplement our usual stop for snacks, a cheerful group of volunteers fed us lunch when we took out at Goliad State Park. The idea of the whole event was to spread the word about the nice river there, as well as the town's other attractions, and we took advantage of those, too.

After snarfing down the free lunch, we had a pleasant and educational visit at the Mission Espíritu Santo, built there in 1749, which is the highlight of the park. The restored buildings' whitewashed walls gleam in the sun, showing off the simple lines of the architecture beautifully. The centerpiece of the compound is the chapel, shown from the outside at the left and from the inside on the right.

There is a small museum in one of the buildings, too, which put the site in its proper historical context as well as provided a relaxingly cool break from the sun.

I even learned about a new tree, thanks to the knowledgeable friends we had with us. This beauty, seen through the doors of the chapel, is an anaqua, native to this area and loaded with showy yellow berries. We saw several more on the park grounds and later in the town. I just love learning about new trees!
Here is another view of part of the mission compound, with more lovely local flora in evidence:

Goliad has even more history to tell, and we also made our way to the Presidio La Bahia, which was the military garrison which defended the mission community. Ironically, today it's run by the Catholic diocese, while the mission is in the state park. We didn't have time to go inside the Presidio, but stopped at the impressive monument on its grounds to the massacred soldiers who were initially imprisoned in the Presidio and whose deaths play a large role in Texas history. You can read the story here in the ever-authoritative Handbook of Texas.

The article also talks about the monument, and answers some questions that we had about it. It was, apparently, built as you see it today in 1938 (see the next-to-last paragraph). We thought it looked newer, but they must just take very good care of it. Which is how memorials are supposed to be treated, after all.

Finally, Goliad also has some personal history connections. Henry's great-grandparents lived there, and he was determined to find their houses, guided by some of his sisters' previous research. Here is Mr. Piddle Paddle himself sitting on the front porch of the great-grandmother's family's home. [he's having his picture taken with the whole house in the background here by one of our friends, and I'm sure he will have much more about this in his blog] We think we found the great-grandfather's family place later, too. Nothing like making history come alive!

Boy, did all this paddling, sightseeing, learning and driving make us hungry! Fortunately, we had a good recommendation for a dinner spot in the town of Kenedy, about half-way home. Some of the best fried catfish I've ever had—and I consider myself something of a connoisseur. So if you're ever south of San Antonio and need some sustenance, we second the recommendation for Barth's.

Note the expertly-packed super-boat-trailer. Nice sunset, too, as you might be able to tell from this photo, taken after we had stuffed ourselves almost to insensibility. Great way to end a great day!

Wordless Wednesday: underside of an arch

A walk in the neighborhood

I know I promised some scenic shots from Mesa and Arches, but since I'm home nursing a traveler's cold, and it's going to take some doing to sift through the pictures I took there, I'm going to cop out a bit and do a short post today on my sister's neighborhood. Which I'd planned to do anyway, before being blown away by Arches scenery on Saturday.

At any rate, to place the neighborhood on a map of the U.S., you have the handy street numbering convention shown on the sign here: 26½ refers to the distance from the Utah border. Those nice, straight, state borders make nomenclature like this easy and descriptive.

What impressed me most about the neighborhood flora, not too surprisingly, was the trees—so many are species rarely seen around here, such as the impressive willow down the street, shown here on the right.

Joan has a lovely trio of aspen trees in her front yard, that I remember as much smaller and thinner once upon a time than they are now, as you can see here with a Texas tourist in the frame for scale.

Flowers are abundant in the area, too, with the cool evenings and plentiful irrigation water. Sensibly, the sprinkler systems here use non-potable water, from the canal that runs from the river through the neighborhood. You can see the canal here, along with a plane landing at the cute Grand Junction airport [I love small airports that are easily reached and easily navigated!]
Here's an example of some good use to which this irrigation has been put—a lovely bed of columbines of more than just the traditional purple and white color combination. How sad that the first few sites to come up on a Google search for Colorado Columbines refer to the 1999 shooting at the school of that name. But the reason the school was given that name was that it's the state flower and it's a beauty—maybe someday pictures of the flowers will come up first in a search again.