Taking a baseball break

In between all the San Antonio tourist-ing I indulged in with my sister, we partook of another shared interest when we were in Houston to celebrate our brother's milestone birthday. Taking in a game at Minute Maid Park has been a summer family tradition since the stadium's opening in 2000 [and before that, how many games did we see in the Astrodome; plus, before that, how many in old, temporary Colt Stadium? And before that, our mom saw her share of Buffs minor league games in Buff Stadium, but we can stop there.]
The Houston ballclub's current home is really quite a nice place to watch a game. It has a rather impressive retractable roof that prevents not only rainouts but also the heat stroke that both fans and players would suffer otherwise. On the left you can see a portion of the steel framework of the roof superstructure, as seen from the outside. We enjoyed the game we saw in more-or-less air conditioned comfort, since it was a day game in June. The roof will always be closed for those. We've been to games early and late in the season, though, when the roof was closed at the outset and then gets opened around the sixth inning—a technological treat to watch along with the ball game.

Here's what the field looked like as the game we saw moved into extra innings. After I while I proposed that if the sun got to our seats, then it was time to leave, even if the game wasn't over. [Leaving before the game's over is something we, as true fans, hardly ever do. And we've been treated to some exciting late inning action for the trouble over the years, I can tell you!]

Of course, 13 innings is a lot of baseball, and it did take its toll on some of the attendees, like this mother and child a few rows below us:
But, we were rewarded again with a win by our beloved Astros in the bottom of the 13th inning! And over the detested Cubs, to boot!

Do we live in a great country, or what?!

More local history

Still catching up on the furious round of tourist-ing accomplished with my sister. [And, no, I haven't done much of interest since she left—it's just too damn hot!]

Our last local history stop was in downtown San Antonio, where some of the oldest buildings in the country just sit there amid the bustle of the 9th largest American city. [This link is to Census data from 2000 census, but Wikipedia found a Census table that I couldn't, that says 2007 estimates have us at #7! Thanks, Hal!] One of these is called the Spanish Governor's Palace. When it was first built in 1722, it was the residence and office of the commandant of the Presidio de San Antonio de Béjar, the fort that protected the mission that became the Alamo and its community.

Although under Spanish rule at the time, Texas of course has famously been "under" six flags and they are displayed above by the entrance to the "palace."

Of course, "palace" is a somewhat misleading moniker, the structure being not only fairly small, but also un-air-conditioned—definitely not palace material in today's world! But it's a very elegant Spanish colonial structure that has been well-maintained and showcases some neat artifacts and lovely furniture of the period.

One of its nicest features is the courtyard, or "terrace," shown here behind the main part of the house:
When we were there, in the hottest part of the day, it was actually almost comfortable out here with the ample shade—the Spanish colonials knew how to keep themselves as comfortable as it's possible to be around here.

Most of my indoor photos didn't turn out too well, but I thought this little room off the kitchen will give you an idea of the place's interior. The stairs lead up to a loft storage area (where it was really hot!). [The tourist from Colorado coming down the stairs was holding up remarkably well in the heat!]

The "palace" is right next to our city hall, and only a block or so from Main Plaza, a recently expanded urban space that would probably be better visited in the morning or the winter, but which is home to two rather remarkable buildings of importance to the city, past and present.

The most historically significant is San Fernando Cathedral, founded in 1731 and still an active church, as well as an impressive architectural gem. Here's a photo of the sanctuary, which was completely refurbished a couple of years ago—making it a place of pride for all San Antonians regardless of religious or non-religious leanings.

The other architecturally significant building on the Plaza has a more mundane function that I've seen firsthand when called for jury duty—the county courthouse. It's also been undergoing some refurbishment, which is not quite finished, as you can tell in the picture below by looking for the cherry-picker full of roof workers in the lower right corner. But isn't it a nifty-looking building? It's always been one of my favorite San Antonio landmarks, just from a visual standpoint.

And it makes an interesting counterpoint, I think, with the Tower Life building in the photo at the right, taken a block west of Main Plaza.

You should know that the river can't be far away from the Plaza, since the Spanish wouldn't have wanted to haul water for the cathedral too far. And part of the expansion of the Plaza includes a new stairway down to the Riverwalk. Enjoying the relative cool of the riverside, we walked upstream a bit and came upon the bridge you see below, which just happened to be where Henry dropped us off for our Riverwalk exploration a week before. It's not too surprising, I guess, since the
most interestingunique parts of San Antonio can be found in a pretty compact area. But I thought it was a nice way to bring our historical touring full circle.

The rather ornate corner to the modern building might look a bit out of place, but there's a story behind it. The new building is on the site of the Texas Theatre which couldn't be saved when the new structure was proposed, but which the city couldn't quite let go of, either. So they left the facade at this one corner.

Fortunately, we still have a couple of our old downtown theatres, unlike the gorgeous movie palaces in downtown Houston that they didn't have the imagination to save when the '70's boom came. Our Majestic and the Empire, while updated and gentrified, retain their early 20th century charm and now host plays and concerts. A much more civilized way of treating your historical buildings, imho.

Wordless Wednesday: a late lone star

On a Mission, part 2

After an extensive tour of Mission San José, we made off southward to visit the other San Antonio River mission sites, opting to go to the end of the line first then work our way back.

This strategy made Mission Espada our second stop. Moved to its present site in 1731, it is less well-restored than San José, but still interesting and possessed of a kind of eroded loveliness. The small chapel (where services are still held, as they are at all of these mission churches) is shown at the left above and a remnant of the compound's buildings are at the right.

The Park's informational materials tell us that Espada has the most well-preserved acequia system. These irrigation canals brought the river's water to the missions' fields and residences. Unfortunately, it was much too hot even at mid-morning for us to feel like exploring further than just Espada's main compound (see below). Perhaps if we return on a cooler day we'll be able to see and appreciate these engineering marvels.
Next stop upstream is Mission San Juan Capistrano. [not the famous mission with the swallows, in California—apparently Señor Capistrano was a big enough name to have more than one church named for him!] Our San Juan has a couple of special features, in addition to this lovely chapel:
One is a nature trail that leads down to the river, giving perhaps a glimpse of what the waterway looked like throughout its reach 'way back when, before the WPA and the Corps of Engineers had anything to say about it. On the left you can get some idea (fortunately, the trail was very short, since, did I mention it? It was very HOT during our tour!).

There's also this very large grove?—stand?—patch?—of impressively spiky-looking cacti you can see at the right, forming an unusual setting for the cross in the middle of the mission grounds.

San Juan was also moved to its present location from eastern Texas in 1731 [was that a particularly bad year for mosquitoes in the piney woods?] and was known as having the best farmland among all the missions. Irrigated, of course, by the acequias.

The interior of the chapel was light enough to get a good photo, so I snapped this to give you an idea of the charm of these still-active places of worship:
Skipping over San José on our way upstream, we ended up our mission tour with Mission Concepción, whose grounds are not as extensive (probably because of its location so much closer to the heart of the city where real estate has always been more precious) but whose buildings were perhaps our favorites.

One reason for this preference was the still-extant original colorful decorations adorning several of the rooms. You can get some idea of the charm of these spaces in the photo at the left.

The chapel also displays remnants of the mission's more colorful past, as well as showing off the impressive dome that you can see from the inside on the right.

Another 1731 transplant from East Texas, Concepción was a great way to end up our missions tour [although we did feel obligated to drive by the Alamo on our way home, in the interests of completeness]. Here is a shot of this handsome structure:

But we did find out, through Joan's research and helpful Park Service personnel, that there was one more mission at least planned along the San Antonio River acequia system: Mission San Francisco Xavier de Nájera. Doesn't sound familiar? Not too surprising, since if it was ever built, there's nothing left of it now. The tribe for which it was intended, according to the ranger, wasn't as amenable to the Franciscans' "civilizing" influence as were its neighbors. The Handbook of Texas indicates that something was at least staffed with this name, for a few years in the 1720's, but the mission eventually merged with that of San Antonio de Valero [better known as the Alamo]. But now there's only this historical marker, at the edge of a golf course, to show that it ever existed. We're glad there's so much more surviving of the other missions, and look forward to another visit to see more of their grounds—in the winter!

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.