From MFA.org the site of the Museum of Fine Art in Boston
TRAVEL THERE: WYETH NOT VISIT THE SAMA?
Sorry for the pun but I couldn’t resist! From The Pearl we crossed the Riverwalk’s Museum Reach and entered the San Antonio Museum of Art in its Lone Star Brewery digs. This is a museum I love, but so far in this multi-year journey I haven’t told you much about it, in spite of the fact that I have visited.
My Love Affair with the SAMA
I first visited many years ago when it was in a warehouse downtown. I’ll confess I loved their installations in the old space. They had less room, so they were very creative with their displays. The old antiquities exhibit was one of my all time favorites. The entire ancient world was represented in one room. Many different pieces were suspended in the air inside one large area. I would always lose count of time as I considered each piece and compared to the others nearby. There was less to see, but I liked that I could take it all in during a fairly short visit – if I didn’t spend hours in the antiquities section.
Their new digs are so spacious that I have yet to make it through the modern art section. I always start with the antiquities and European Art and before I get to the modern stuff I’ve worn myself out. This, of course, is not the SAMA’s fault. I feel a little guilty about always opting for the classics, but not guilty enough to do anything about it.
My Recent Visit
Tip of the hat to my Dallas Museum of Art(DMA) membership which got us free admission. The guy manning the entry booth at the river didn’t know anything about the VIA trolleys, so they first thing we did was trot over to the “official” information booth. They said the trolley had just been by, so we had almost an hour before they would be back again. We discussed our options and chose the Jamie Wyeth exhibit.
When you say Wyeth to me, I immediately think of the patriarch of the Wyeth artists, N.C., an illustrator whose colorful plates graced classic tales like Treasure Island and Robinson Caruso, but he spawned a litter of artists, all of whom have created beautiful works. The DMA once had a Wyeth retrospect exhibit featuring masterworks from the father and his talented offspring. I knew Jamie for a famous portrait of JFK – not the official one, but this one.
I’ll have to say that much of Jamie’s art is a little odd and introspective for me. Bloody seagulls are just not my thing. I am, however, glad we had the chance to take in the exhibit before the trolley showed up. I have, after all, been looking at the museum’s own collection for a long time. Unfortunately, if Deb wants to see it, we’re going to have to go back another time (and you know how much we’d hate that!).
If you want to see Jamie’s work, you’ll need to go to Bentonville, AR and see it at the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art. But Crystal Bridges is the last stop on the tour, so get there by October 10th.
Hopping the VIA
Back at the SAMA, not wanting to miss VIA’s once hourly trolley, we arrived at the stop early and enjoyed the break. When the trolley showed up, we climbed on and wanted to pay for a $4 all day ticket, but neither of us had singles and they don’t give change. So our $4 tickets were $5 each. Inconvenient, so don’t make our mistake. However, we were ready for a lift.
Next stop in the San Antonio Stroll? The San Antonio Botanical Gardens. Come back next week and I’ll give you a tour.
This Briscoe Western Art Museum is housed in a wonderful old library building.
TRAVEL THERE: SAN ANTONIO STROLLING
Little did I know when I tagged this trip as the San Antonio Stroll how apt the title would be. I was thinking of wandering along the river from Margarita to Margarita, not hoofing it from downtown to The Pearl. Well, that was before the VIA streetcars let me down.
Go Mobile Without Your Car
One of my favorite things about San Antonio is that you can forget about driving for a day or two, because they’ve got a great transit system. I don’t know what the locals think of it, but the VIA Streetcars are great for tourists. However there’s a pitfall. I’ve been using the VIA Streetcars for decades and that was the pitfall. I assumed I knew how things operated.
They have a route going around and around downtown – called the Red Circulator. It comes by every ten minutes or so. I have ridden that one to get an overall view of the area, but it used to cover more ground and there were several other trolley lines that hooked up with it. There’s still something called the Primo – but that’s a bus. I’m a tourist, so I want a trolley. There’s Blue Circulator which looked like it could get me to the other places I wanted to go, but I was a little fuzzy on the time thing.
I pored over the new trolley schedule online, but couldn’t find a schedule that said, “Here are the times the Blue Circulator comes by its stops.” Note to self: Next time stop by the VIA Info Center and ask them! It’s right on the Red Circulator route and it was steps away from my hotel. Instead I decided to play it by ear. Good thing I bought some comfortable walking shoes for the trip!
So, on day three of the San Antonio Stroll, we’d already strolled quite a bit. Day one, shopping at the Round Rock Outlet Mall and walking from the RiverCenter to the Tower of the Americas and back. Day Two, walking the McNay, the King William Walking Tour and the self-directed Riverwalk Margarita Tour. With day three being primarily museums and gardens, I thought a little foot relief would be just the thing.
The Briscoe
Breakfast and The Briscoe
We grabbed breakfast at Whataburger and discovered there was an egg shortage. Not something I’d heard about anywhere else, but some poor fast-food clerk was having to apologize to everyone about it, so I didn’t think she needed my two cents worth also. Therefore we ate some chicken biscuit thing with honey-butter. Not just was the doctor ordered, but sustenance enough until the next meal. As long as I had my Diet Dr. Pepper, I was good.
On to the Briscoe Western Art Museum. I’ve already done a good job of describing the museum here, so no need to do that again – but it was one of those days.
First the eggs, then the museum entrance fee. Last time, I breezed in with my Dallas Museum of Art (DMA) Reciprocal Privileges. The DMA website said I still had them, but the Briscoe had changed its affiliation. To give the Briscoe its due, it did eventually comp my entry, but we had to pay for Deb’s ticket. Not that it was exorbitant, it was the principle of the thing. I’m not sure who to blame, but I’m not happy.
I enjoyed the museum the second time around, but what I liked best was that Deb discovered she likes Western Art. As I’ve said, Deb will pretty much go wherever I want to, but sometimes she’s just going along to be along and that was the case with the Briscoe. Inside she enjoyed the historical perspective of the third floor, but she was blown away by the art on the second floor. Western art has a new fan.
Via the VIA?
After a quick stroll through the gift shop, where we’d have bought several things if money were no object, we headed to the trolley stop. Well nothing was posted, because everything is on your phone – right? Unless you don’t have the latest phone and you can’t get to the right page and even if you could you couldn’t see it in the bright sunlight. (mumbling complaints under my breath). We stood there a few moments pretending a trolley was coming any minute, because I was convinced they came by every ten minutes. Then a passerby dissuaded us from this illusion.
So we tried our handy-dandy doorman, because the bus stop was in front of the hotel. He knew the trolley came by and where, but not when. We went to the concierge and she was having the trouble I had, sans the sunlight. There’s no webpage that says when the trolley comes by the Briscoe Museum stop. (Are you listening VIA?)
Or You Can Walk
We decided to hoof it. Both of us love to walk. The heat was not oppressive, so we set off. The walk was a little over a mile and a half, which took time, but not much effort.
We did connect with the trolley later in the day which allowed us to get much further than we would have gotten on our own four feet, but it wasn’t easy. With no available schedules, we had to find someone who knew the drill to get on the trolley at a stop near The Pearl. Then we’d quiz the bus driver when we got off about when the next trolley would be by. The cost was cheap – but the hassle was high. And speaking of hassle – a day ticket is $4, but you won’t get any change, so have some singles.
Yes, I could have avoided all this hassle (one hopes) by checking with the VIA Information Center, but we all know about hindsight – and I was reminded of the pitfalls of assuming you know what to expect in the future based on past performance. In other words, “Don’t never assume nothing!!”
That’s right, don’t assume anything, but come back next week and we’ll have street tacos at The Pearl.
The Master and Mistress of Ceremonies for Fiesta Noche del Rio in San Antonio
TRAVEL THERE: FABULOUS FIESTA NOCHE DEL RIO
Ya wanna have a good time in San Antonio? Then you hafta go to the Fiesta Noche del Rio. What began as a fundraiser for the local Kiwanas almost six decades ago is now one of the most entertaining evenings you can enjoy in San Antonio.
Our New Favorite Thing on the Riverwalk
We bought our tickets along the Riverwalk the day of the show and then did a little Margarita tasting, I mean sightseeing, before going back and snagging a seat in the Arneson River Theater.
The warm up act was an amazing flamenco guitarist with an acoustical twelve string. He sat on a chair, pulled the guitar into his lap and plucked out beautiful music while providing a stomping percussion with his feet. Absolutely fascinating and very stirring.
Deb recruited for a little audience participation. If they knew what kind of voice she had, they would have had her singing into the microphone instead of just holding it.
Soon the Master and Mistress of Ceremonies came out to lead us through the evening. Both had marvelous voices and a serious dose of fun to share with the audience. They not only led you through the performance, they initiated audience participation and entertained your socks off. When it came to audience participation, you’d have to talk to my bestie and traveling companion, Deb. They participated with her several times.
Musica and Danza
The dance numbers were amazing. How those performers keep from passing out during their routines I have no idea. The weather was actually quite pleasant for those of us merely sitting idle in the amphitheater. For the fast moving, fully-costumed dancers under the lights, it was a whole ‘nother thing. I want to tell you that in spite of the heat, every step was precise and vigorous and their smiles never faded by even a degree.
Beautiful Mariachi music performed by gorgeously costumed musicians was my favorite part.
If you are wondering what kind of music they danced to, then let me ask you this…what kind of music do you like? If you like rap, then you would have been out of luck, but pretty much everything else was there, from the classical flamenco guitar to jazz to country to…well you name it.
My very favorite was the Mariachi. It sounds like happy music to me – even when they sing sad songs. The haunting horns seem to reach down to someplace in my soul. My heritage is as about as Anglophile as you can get, but one of those guys from the Spanish Armada must have something to do with my DNA.
Swirling Skirts
Of course, when the Mariachi’s come out to play, then you also get to see the dancers whirl around in the flowing skirts of their traditional costumes. If I actually tried their thrilling spins, I’d end up on the floor with the skirt wrapped around my head, but as they twirl, I can imagine myself twirling with them and it is glorious.
I could go on with my rapturous description of the evening, but pictures really are worth thousands of words, so enjoy some of the others I took.
After the Fiesta
We strolled down to Durty Nellie’s after the show for a little of their more raucous entertainment, but my dreams were full of throbbing flamenco music and swirling skirts. This was the best money I spent on my vacation, yet it was also one of the smallest ticket prices I’ve ever payed for live entertainment. Do not miss it. It’s really worth going down there just for the show!
Saturday was our museum marathon – and it was a marathon in more ways than one. Come back next week and find out why.
TRAVEL THERE: JUST A COUPLE MORE SAN ANTONIO MARGARITAS BEFORE THE SHOW
After the Margaritas at the Menger Bar, we took ourselves on a tour of the Menger Hotel lobby. They have extensive displays related to the history of the hotel and you can tell from the architecture she’s a grande olde dame of the accommodations world. If you like staying in historic hotels, which I usually do, I’m sure it’s quite a treat, but I’ll be staying at the Contessa for the foreseeable future.
Touring the Menger Hotel
The front of the Menger is graced with a collection of retail establishments. The antique store, which looked amazing, was closed, but we did go into a toy soldier store and an exotic trinket store. When I say toy soldiers, I’m not talking plastic bags of green army men. I’m talking historically-correct, hand-painted metal soldiers. A chapter of Deb’s life is tied to these interesting collectibles, so we usually stroll through establishments that sell them. The exotic trinket store offered interesting junk that has nothing to do with San Antonio, but it was filled with marvelous aromas and Deb found a bracelet she liked.
Dinner at Casa Rio
Our next stop was dinner and for that we went to one of my favorite places, Casa Rio. I’m not going to tell anyone that it’s the best Mexican Food in San Antonio, but it’s still on on my list of favorites. There is something about sitting there on the Riverwalk, drinking Margaritas, eating Tex-Mex and listening to live Mariachis. I’m sure there are several places to do that along the Riverwalk, but this was the first place to offer it a very, very long time ago and it’s one of my San Antonio traditions, just like pictures of The Alamo.
I have to scold them a little bit though, the Margarita was awful, even though we paid a dollar extra to get the premium tequila. Shame on Casa Rio! The food was great though and we are grateful to each person that paid the Mariachis for a song, because we sure as heck weren’t going to fork over $20!
Every time I go to San Antonio I’m reminded of all the things I want to do there that I haven’t quite gotten around to. The Casa Rosa dinner boats are on that list. You need the minimum of ten people to reserve a dinner boat to ply through the waters of the Riverwalk as you eat your tostadas and tamales. I guess that’s a pretty silly thing to want to do, but there you have it, I’m a sucker for a party. I think I’m going to serve Caronas on my boat though. I’m still upset about our awful Margaritas!
Buckhorn Saloon, Museum, Arcade etc. etc. etc.
With dinner out of the way, there was just time to squeeze in one more thing. Deb had gone to the Menger Bar for me, so I wanted to get to the Buckhorn Saloon for her. It was one place she mentioned having an interest in. Now if you’d wanted to visit the original Buckhorn back in 1881, according to my official Centennial edition of their souvenir book, you would have gone to Dolorosa Street. The bar would have been right across the street from the old Southern Hotel.
The Buckhorn Saloon
When I first the Buckhorn, sometime around its Centennial, it was out at the Lone Star Brewery, which is now the San Antonio Museum of Art (SAMA). When the SAMA took over, the Buckhorn had to find a new home. So nowadays, you’ll find it right around the corner from the Majestic Theater, just a hop, skip and a jump from the Riverwalk.
The Buckhorn establishment now has a very long name, because it houses two different museums, a saloon and an arcade, but when Deb and I arrived, the museums had closed for the day and the bar wasn’t yet patronized by the evening crowd. Nonetheless, Deb and I ordered up Margaritas (for the sake of research you understand) and made ourselves at home in the virtually empty bar.
Memories, Margaritas and Rattlesnake Tails
Rattler Tail Art from the Footnotes of the Buckhorn Souvenir Book
As we sat there comparing notes about our previous visits to the Buckhorn over the years, we agreed the museum part of the Buckhorn is a treat for kids – particularly the rattler tail art. I started my visits to the Buckhorn when I was knee-high to a Longhorn steer and Deb brought her sons when they were young. The whole Texas Ranger thing we can’t attest to. We think the Texas Ranger Museum in Waco is the place to go for history of that sort, but you’ll have to follow up on that, because it was now time for the show.
Come back next week and find out about the best $15 dollars we each spent in San Antonio – and it wasn’t on Margaritas.
It’s not very often that buying tickets rates as part of the fun, but then it’s not everyday that you’re buying tickets on the Riverwalk for the Alamo Kiwanas Fiesta Noche del Rio.
Deb and I enjoy life as if we were still the twenty-somethings we were when we met. We strolled over to the theater and found a cute Kiwanas guy selling tickets along the Riverwalk, just as their advertisement had promised. By the way, the advertisement promised they would be selling tickets. It said nothing about cute guys. We just got lucky.
Neither Deb or I have any use for any guys (on a permanent or even semi-permanent basis), because our husbands are more than enough (thank you very much). But if you’ve got to buy some tickets anyway, it’s nice to do so from a personable young man who also happens to be cute.
He was probably young enough to be a child of either one of us, but we won’t go there. As he rattled off the price of the tickets, he mentioned that seniors got $5 off regular admission. We asked what age made you a senior. Thankfully, he looked at us as if to say, “Not any age either one of you will be any time soon,” but what he actually said was, “No gentleman asks a lady her age. If you’re willing say you’re seniors then that’s good enough for me.” When we revealed our actual ages he remained incredulous, so he was immediately became one of our favorite people – but we did get the tickets for $15 instead of $20.
Visiting The Alamo
And there she is – The Alamo!
The show would start at 8:30 so we still had hours and hours to fill. We decided to head over to the Alamo. Deb had a friend who said a relative of hers was in a picture on the Gift Shop wall. We also felt somewhat obligated to go take a picture. It’s like a rite of passage each time you visit San Antonio.
The landmark was about to close for the day, so we high-tailed it to the gift shop, but they must have remodeled since the Alamo defender’s descendant last visited. No historical photographs were displayed in the gift shop.
Margaritas at the Menger
With the obligatory picture in our cameras, we decided to hit the Menger Bar for some Margaritas. Now the Menger Bar is another of those spots I’ve wished to visit, but I never talked anyone else into it. “You mean it’s just an old bar?”, I’ve been asked several times. Well, nanny nanny poo poo, Deb and I went and we had fun. The proximity of the bar to the Alamo and the prospect of margaritas, probably had as much to do with Deb’s cooperative nature as anything else, but who am I to complain about getting what I want.
Tom and Lula Mae on their 50th wedding anniversary.
See, the Menger Bar is not just any old bar. It’s been around for a very long time. Notable figures ranging from Robert E Lee and Theodore Roosevelt to Lillie Langtry and Mae West have sidled up to the Menger Bar to wet their whistle. It’s most famous for Teddy Roosevelt using it as a recruiting station for the Spanish American War, but it’s also the place where barbed wire got its start. I’m partial to the Teddy Roosevelt story, because my grandfather, Thomas Byron Mobley, fought in that altercation and Lula Mae, his wife, was the last one to receive widow benefits from that war. A senator showed up one day to give my grandmother the check in person, but I don’t think Tom signed up down in San Antonio. At least not that I’ve heard.
All that being said, the bar is a small dark hole in the wall with low ceilings and some historical memorabilia spread around. It was great for people-watching, because several large family groups were there scarfing down their evening meals. I can assure you the toddler who was so entertaining didn’t know or care about Teddy or Tom. The bar also had a GREAT Margarita. Perhaps the best we had the whole time we were there. Certainly the best on that particular night.
Well, I’ve about worn out my welcome for the day, but it’s still not time to go see Fiesta Noche del Rio. Come back next week for a tour of a few more Margaritas before the show.
TRAVEL THERE: KING WILLIAM HISTORICAL DISTRICT IN SAN ANTONIO TX
If it’s art, I love it. If it’s Decorative Arts, Architecture and History, well I’m there. That’s the reason we spent our first morning in San Antonio at the McNay. It’s also the reason our next stop was the King William District.
The Guenther House
To be exact, our next stop was The Guenther House, because I also like food. The Guenther House is one of the jewels in the crown of The King William District. The Guenther Family founded the Pioneer Flour Mills. Ever hear of Pioneer Biscuit Mix. Yep, that’s them.
The mill is still producing and you can sample their wares at the restaurant, right there at the home of their founder. The home also serves as a museum and has a great gift shop. Deb and I took a look at it all while we waited for a friend to arrive.
I met Clark in my SFA days and stay in touch on Facebook, but it’s always great to get a chance to chat in person. We were able to get a seat right there on that covered patio. Deb had a salad, I opted for the Champagne Chicken Enchiladas and Clark just kept us company.
Of the two dishes, I think Deb chose the better one. Not that mine was bad – it just wasn’t everything I’d dreamed of when I read, “Tender slices of chicken breast and Monterey Jack cheese wrapped in Pioneer’s White Wings flour tortillas. Baked in our special sauce made from San Antonio River Mill Champagne Chicken Gravy mix, garnished with jalapenos and cilantro.” The tortilla was a little tough and by the time the melted cheese made it out to the patio, so was it. The flavor was great, but I’m a real stickler for texture.
The Steve’s Homestead
The King Willam Walking Tour
Soon Clark had places to be and I had the map a walking tour of King Williams in my hand. Now I’ve been to the King William District numerous times, but I’ve never been to San Antonio with anyone else who is as patient with my passions as Deb is. Every time I’ve been to San Antonio I’ve told my traveling companions how great it would be to walk through the district and spend some time looking at each house. So far no one had taken me up on it. I’d been through it on a trolley tour, I’d gone on the Steves Homestead Tour and I’d driven through on the way to Guenther’s, but walking tour and San Antonio had not clicked with any of my potential walking tour companions.
Villa Finale
Of course, Deb thought it was a great idea and it turned out to be just that. We left Guenther’s and figured out where we were on the walking tour map. Then we did just what I’d wanted to do, strolled along and discussed all the beautiful homes with the Walking Tour Map & Guide as our reference. Along the way we did take in the Steve’s Homestead Tour – delightful, by the way. We were a few minutes late for Villa Finale, so we just enjoyed the grounds. As beautiful as these homes are they only scratch the surface. Each home in the five block area is a treasure.
So, yes, if you go to San Antonio you should do the walking tour. San Antonio is notoriously hot and humid, and we walked the whole thing in ninety something weather, but it was fine. In fact, the tree-shaded sidewalk made it very pleasant. On the way back to Guenther’s we dropped down to the River and enjoyed the serenity. This is one of my favorite memories of this trip.
But the Riverwalk was calling. We had reservations at Hotel Contessa and we wanted to see the Fiesta Noche del Rio at the Arneson River Theater. Come back next week and I’ll tell you all about it! In the meantime, enjoy these pictures from the King William Walking Tour.
In the Villa Finale Garden
The Joske House – important because my Mom worked for Joskie’s Department Store for years.
There’s more than one reason I have a blast traveling with my bestie. One of the benefits I truly enjoy is her encyclopedic knowledge of movies and TV – especially movies and TV she enjoyed with her boys. Since I didn’t have kids at all and tend to know more about concierges than coneheads, I can be seriously entertained by things most everyone else already knew. Enter the sculpture garden at the McNay.
You can usually tell what is most important to me on a trip, because I will schedule it first on the agenda if at all possible. That’s why the McNay Art Museum was our Friday morning destination. As we pull into the beautiful grounds of the wonderful museum, Deb says, “Incoming message from the big giant head.” This made no sense whatsoever to me. Yes, there was a large sculpture of Marion Koogler McNay‘s head there on the lawn, but what was that “incoming message” stuff about?
That’s when I got a lesson on sci-fi sitcoms. Most of you don’t need an explanation, so I’ll leave it at that. We arrived a few minutes before the museum opened which gave us some time to explore the garden. Deb posed before the big giant head in the appropriate stance and we captured a few of the other lovely sites on the grounds.
Welcome to Sunset Hills
Getting to Know Marion Koogler McNay
Though I’ve mentioned the McNay before, I’ve never really told you how wonderful it is. Marion Koogler McNay was a patron of the arts and one of her husbands (she had several) built her a palace in what was once a rural area outside San Antonio. Now the estate is just minutes from downtown, surrounded by accouterments of the bustling metropolis. Learning more about the heiress’ life is just one of a plethora of reasons to visit the McNay.
Ms. McNay is one of those people who had everything other people want, but was denied the one thing she really wanted. Over the years as I’ve visited the museum, I’ve learned tidbits about her life and it is a haunting story.
Born in Ohio, to a family with money, she was exposed to great art at a very young age and it captured her heart. She was one of the first to collect works of Impressionism, which led to an appreciation of the schools which followed it, like Cubism and Fauvism. But the modern art of her day was not her only interest. She collected religious images from the Middle Ages and classic sculpture also. She was an artist in her own right and played a role in the artistic community of Taos New Mexico.
But all she really loved was Don McNay. She was still quite young when the pair met and married. Though she was well-to-do, her husband was not. He was just a soldier who was about to be posted to an assignment on the Texas-Mexico border. She came along and they lived very happily in a very modest house near his posting. In spite of her affluent upbringing, this was the best time of her life.
Unfortunately it was not happily ever after. Don was reassigned and shortly after leaving the border area, he died from the Spanish Influenza epidemic. Ms. McNay had not followed him on his second assignment, but settled in San Antonio, where the two had honeymooned on their way to the border town. There were other homes and other husbands, but her heart would always belong to Don.
From the courtyard
One of her husbands built this beautiful mansion, called Sunset Hills, for her, and even though she made it a beacon of art and beauty for others, she had sad experiences there. It took years to build the complex residence and when it was done, our country had fallen into the Depression. She held a gala housewarming, but the pictures of it seem to echo with disappointment, rather than glee. In just a few years her marriage ended and she took back Don’s surname as her own. I can imagine her walking the halls of her beautiful home wishing she could trade it all for just a little more time with the love of her life, Don McNay.
The McNay Today
Though her own life was sad, she brought opportunity and great art to San Antonio for others to enjoy. A visit to the McNay to learn more about Marion and enjoy Sunset Hills is more than enough reason to make the pilgrimmage, but on top of it all is the art – some of it hanging on the walls, other items actually a part of the walls, like the beautiful mosaic in the courtyard.
Membership having its privileges, Deb and I got in for free, thanks to my membership at the DMA. Then we began to roam the museum enjoying first the permanent collection, then wandering back to the theater area for some special exhibitions out there. One was called “All the Rage in Paris” and it had posters, costumes and other artifacts from the days of the Ballet Russe in Paris. What and interesting and beautiful collection!
While visiting the museum we watched a video on Ms. McNay’s life, which reminded me of some of the things I’d learned about her. We also relaxed in the courtyard. I love that courtyard so much that there is even a chance that I actually go there for the fountain and mosaics rather than the art. (Don’t tell anyone! I’m still trying to impress people with my art appreciation skills.) The museum also has a whimsical and wonderful gift shop, but I managed to leave without buying anything this time.
After a couple of hours, it was unfortunately time to move on. We had many plans for our day and lunch at the Guenther House was one of them. Come back next week and find out about Champagne Chicken Enchildas! In the meantime, enjoy a few more pictures of the McNay.
The view at Chart House atop the Tower of the Americas
TRAVEL THERE: SAN ANTONIO’S CHART HOUSE RESTAURANT
If there is one thing I hate, it’s a reviewer that can’t find anything good to say about any place they stay or eat. I wasn’t loving the place we stayed the first night in San Antonio, but I wasn’t going to let that color the rest of my experience.
Going with the Flow
I was the one who wanted to stay in a cheap hotel, but I had high hopes for the rest of the stay. One of the reasons I’d opted for the first night in a bargain was because I really didn’t expect to arrive in San Antonio until late that night, but travel is really all about dealing with change.
I’d expected sight-seeing in Austin, another town I love, but taking the tollway just got me to my favorite city a little faster. Having a meal in the Tower of the Americas had been on my list for a long time and the change in plans gave me the opportunity to do just that.
The Way It Was Before
Way back in the summer of 1968, on a family visit to the Hemisfair, we did not have dinner in the tower. If memory serves me right, I’m pretty sure we didn’t pay the price of ride up the elevator either. I think something like that would have stuck with me. I remember the wonder of walking through all of the amazing pavilions and adored the Institute of Texan Cultures, but all my memories of the tower are from the ground looking up.
In subsequent visits other things kept me from visiting the tower:
budget
bad reviews of the restaurant
not enough time
traveling companions who thought it was a tourist trap
I thought that the “not enough time” issue might come into play on this trip, too. I always have so many favorite things to return to in San Antonio that it’s hard to find time try new experiences. Arriving hours before I expected to, paved the way for an experience I’d wanted to have for a long time.
The Way It Was This Time
With a map, instructions from the hotel clerk and a GPS we set out for downtown San Antonio. Just as the clerk promised we found parking at RiverCenter Mall with no trouble. Somewhere inside my head is a map of the Riverwalk, but it always takes a little while for that map to sync with all the development around the popular attraction. We could see the tower and my mind told me where we should go, but we kept running into obstacles that my old mental map didn’t know about.
It didn’t help that the “You Are Here” map provided by the city next to the river did not have the promised red dot telling me where we were. Still it was only a minor irritation, because I followed my gut around the obstacles and soon recognized we were on the Hemisfair grounds – then all we had to do was look up.
The tower at night
If I was ever in San Antonio with time to kill, I think I’d kill some of it just enjoying Hemisfair Plaza. It’s a very pretty place, but I had my eye on the top of the tower. There was a booth selling elevator rides and the ticket salesmen pointed us to the other side of the tower for the Chart House Restaurant. We sidled up to the desk and asked if they had room for us. To my great joy, they did.
We had to walk back around the tower to the elevator, but this time we were inside. After a short wait and a quick conversation with a couple of guys who were also on their way to dinner, we arrived. From the picture above, you can tell that it was a pretty spectacular experience. The view alone was amazing. The restaurant was also nice.
I’ve been in Dallas’s Hyatt Regency Reunion Tower and the Westin’s Peachtree Plaza Tower in Atlanta, so I can tell you that the experiences are very similar. It wouldn’t surprise me to find out that the same architect designed them all. I can also tell you that this was not just a me-too experience. San Antonio is a town very different from Dallas and Atlanta. The spontaneous opportunity turned into a evening I won’t forget for a long time.
We were not seated immediately, but that was OK. We hadn’t had reservations and it was obvious that a lot of other people did. What was not OK, was that if I was going to wait I would have liked to enjoy a drink. The hostess pointed us at several groupings of leather chairs and told us to wait. I assumed it would be a short wait. There was an observation deck above, which may or may not have had a bar, but if I’d known we’d be cooling our heels for a while I would have at least gone exploring.
Still, I wasn’t an unpleasant experience. I sat in the big comfy leather sofa and enjoyed the view. I also enjoyed the arriving dinner patrons. Many were dressed to the nines, suggesting the meal was a special event. The restaurant was also recovering from a big busload of diners. Observing them go down the elevator in batches of a dozen was somewhat interesting.
After the noisy bus tour was back on the ground, a sort of calm settled of the restaurant and I smelled a fragrance I couldn’t at first identify. I pointed it out to Deb and we agreed it wasn’t a food smell and kept trying to guess what it was. Saddle Soap!! The leather sofas had been recently cleaned with saddle soap. There was no residue and the fragrance was subtle, but I enjoyed the little smell association game. Finally, they seated us.
Seated at the Top of San Antonio
We were looking north-ish when we first sat down – sort of toward our lovely Microtel. Not that we could pick it out from up there. As the evening played out we enjoyed the view until we were south-ish, but by then the city had disappeared into the darkness and all we could see was the lights. One disappointment was that you cannot see the Alamo for the big Marriot which is attached to the RiverCenter. That would have been quite wonderful.
What was wonderful was the food. The prices were a little steep. Not that they were expensive for what they offered, they were just more than I usually pay for a meal. We made choices around the outskirts of the menu, not so much for the cost, but because that’s what sounded good. And of course, we ordered Margaritas!
I started with Lobster Bisque – thick, creamy and delicious – just the way I like it. It was not the best I’d ever had, but it was a treat. Deb chose a salad and it was HUGE. Our next course was side orders – sauteed mushrooms, asparagus and an OMG order of Lobster Mac & Cheese. Good thing Deb and I had decreed that nothing had any calories during this entire weekend, otherwise we would have just scored about two days worth of them. OH – and we had a souffle for dessert. My mouth and stomach were in heaven and the view was out of this world.
Farewell to a lovely experience.
Since this trip was my belated birthday celebration, when we met Cousin Brenda she had a belated birthday present for me. Along with some lovely fragrance gifts for my house, she also gave me one of those gift cards you can use for whatever you want. What I wanted was dinner at the Tower of the Americas. Thank you Brenda. We didn’t have to wash dishes to leave the tower.
Maneuvering back to the car was no problem. My internal map had synced with the city. We did have an adventure getting back to the hotel. First the GPS couldn’t figure out where we were when we left the parking lot and then there was the back road approach to the hotel, but all’s well that ends well – right?
Our next stop? The McNay! You’re going to love it, so come back next week.
It was our last day in LA. The family had arrived in waves, and now Bill and I would be the first departing wave. There were only a few hours left. At 1:18 AM, my nephew texted me the location where we’d meet at 10 AM for brunch. At 4:13 AM he texted me to let me know it would actually be 11. The nieces and nephews were keeping different hours than Auntie Jane.
Brunch at Le Pain Quotidien
Before Steven married and moved up to San Francisco, he and Bassem were a pair of young studs enjoying the single life in LA. I can imagine them landing at Le Pain Quotidien to break their fast after a wild night on the town or even for a quiet Sunday morning reading the LA Times.
However, with thirteen people ranging in age from toddler to retired teacher, perhaps we should have gone to IHOP. The little ones couldn’t find anything they wanted to eat and for that matter, neither could I. It was all very healthy, fresh and chic, but I’d been awake since 4:13 AM and I was seriously hungry. Also, we were spread out over several tables in a corner of the cafe and I’m sure our chatter was disruptive to everyone else.
Next Stop
When brunch was over everyone turned to me for our next adventure. I was honored that I hadn’t been disbarred from the family after the Huntington Garden fiasco, but maybe Bill’s telephoned assurance that there actually were amazing things behind the tall hedges saved face for me. Problem was, I’d seen everything I’d put on my wish list except one and I was afraid the Venice Canals might not be appropriate for this huge crowd of people.
I confessed that my bag was empty except for the Canals, but suddenly I had a groundswell of support. Steven and Shannon had courted nearby and Bassem thought the area was amazing. Bill, too, was anxious to see the canals. So we loaded up and headed out.
The Venice Canals
Saturday afternoon with a caravan of cars is not the optimal time to see the canals – still I’m awfully glad they were included at the last minute.
The Venice Canals
You can’t see much from the car, so the entire caravan had to find places to park. I think that privilege came with a price tag of twenty-something dollars per vehicle. I thought that was outrageous, but everyone else took it in stride.
The Venice Canals is a neighborhood built on a series of man-made canals just a few blocks from Venice Beach. The cute bungalows were affordable back in the day. Now if you’ve got two or three extra mil laying around, you too can live there.
Except for the parking, it actually turned into a great outing for our large group. In ever-changing groups of three or four folks, we strung out all along the canals with everyone strolling along at their own pace.
Auntie Jane at the Venice Canals
The canals were a real boon to me. I don’t see my grandniece and grandnephew often enough for them to remember me. So, I was about to leave, but they’d finally decided to let me into their special circle. I pushed their stroller around the canals. We made up a silly game to play as we went over the bridges. We laughed, giggled and sang nonsense songs. I’m sure the residents hated it, but I was in heaven.
Farewell to the Golden State.
Finally, we couldn’t put it off any longer. There was a episode of fruit basket turnover as we re-arranged everyone to accommodate Bassem driving us to the airport. We were going to have to return the Maserati to him. I would miss it. My real car is a Nissan.
I’ll share a few more shots of the picturesque canals, but come back next week. Who knows what I’ll have up my sleeve!
TRAVEL THERE: THE HUNTINGTON LIBRARY AND GARDENS IN SAN MARINO, CALIFORNA
Until I started planning this trip I hadn’t heard of the Huntington Library and Gardens in San Marino. I was just looking for a museum to visit, since the Getty Villa would be closed the day I wanted to go. As it turned out, I got to see both the Getty Villa and the Huntington. Let me tell you – you’ve got to go to the Huntington.
THE HUNTING WHAT?
Even now that I’ve been there, I don’t quite know how to describe the Huntington – which might be part of the problem. The official name of the place is The Huntington Library. Quite frankly, though I’m very grateful our nation is blessed with wonderful libraries, I don’t consider them as tourist destinations. Also, it’s in San Marino, not LA, so maybe that’s why I’d never heard of it. Call it what you will, it’s one of the most amazing places I’ve ever been and very little of it is actually a library.
THE HUNTINGTON GALLERY
As I researched LA, some clue hinted at an art museum inside the grounds of the Huntington Library. Following my nose I found The Huntington’s website and investigated their collection. I about had a heart attack. Staring right at me from the webpage was Blue Boy – yes, Gainsborough’s Blue Boy. And do you want to know who is looking at Blue Boy from across the room? You’re not going to believe it!! Pinkie! Thomas Lawrence’s painting of a young girl in pink and white. (Go ahead and click over there, I’ll wait.)You’ll be amazed You’ve seen prints of the two displayed together a million times. Well, at the Huntington, the real things are in the same room…looking at one another. It was almost too much for me to bear.
Enjoying a break before heading out to the gardens
The Huntington has a whole slew of gorgeous European paintings that you will devour, but even if they didn’t have a single painting, I’d still tell you to go. I’ve been to a lot of luxurious, ornate, beautiful historic homes in my life, but I have never ever seen anything like the Huntington Art Gallery. Well, maybe “never ever” is stretching it a bit. King Ludwig’s Linderhof in Bavaria was on par. (Probably Versailles is too, but I’m still mad a Jimmy Carter for being there when I went to Paris.) Bottom line – go get your socks knocked off.
THE PRICE OF ADMISSION
If you go during the week, it will cost you $20 per person ($23 on weekends). It doesn’t open until noon (10:30 on weekends) and they shoo you out at 4:30. It ought to be illegal. Not the price, it’s worth every penny, even if all you see is the Art Gallery, but how are you supposed to see any of it in just four and a half hours. I could have spent four and a half hours in the Art Gallery alone. I call a foul. They should open up at the crack of dawn and stay until very late. Charge me by the hour. I don’t care. Just give me more access.
THE HUNTINGTON BOTANICAL GARDENS
On the paved road not quite seeing the gardens
With only a few hours to see everything and an entourage to manage, I made a tactical error. I thought the prudent thing to do would be to stroll along the paved road that leads through the gardens. Sure enough, you get a peek at the edge of the gardens, but not much more. The gardens are designed for you to enjoy them on the foot paths within the various settings, not zipping by on the paved road.
Follow me. I’m not sure where I’m going, but eventually you’ll love it – really!
Needless to say, my entourage soon tired of almost seeing things. Just about the time I figured out the drill, the entourage was through. I tried to encourage them deeper into the garden, but their visit was over. A lot of the conversation happened in Arabic, but I knew they thought I was nuts. Besides, I don’t think they had prints of Blue Boy and Pinkie for sale at the five and dime in Egypt. They just didn’t get any of my rapture.
Too bad. They departed and Bill reluctantly followed me into the Japanese Garden. Moments later he was calling the kids and begging them to come back, but it was too late.
The Japanese Garden, which was unbelievably beautiful, gave way to a Chinese Garden which was even better. I realize that I’ve run out of superlatives, but if you’ve been there you understand. Get this! There are fifteen gardens, each one more amazing than the last one. How are you supposed to see fifteen gardens in four and a half hours?
AND THAT’S NOT ALL!
As if being able to enjoy the Huntington Art Gallery in the gorgeous palace housing the remarkable collection wasn’t enough, there are two other galleries. One is home to American art and the other hosts special exhibitions. I’d pay twenty dollars to see either of them!
Oh, and why is it called a library? Because they have a huge building with 420,ooo rare books and 7,000,000 manuscripts. Yes – SEVEN MILLION manuscripts. Now the general public is not allowed to get their grubby hands on all of that, but they can see highlights of the library in an exhibit hall.
I didn’t even get near to any of this. I’m ready to go back, right now.
A GIFT SHOP TO BEAT ALL GIFT SHOPS
The Huntington Gift Shopis not the largest gift shop I’ve ever been to. Oh you can get a T-shirt, but why would you bother when there are gorgeous scarves, amazing jewelry and stunning decor items. Go ahead – do a little browsing. See if you won’t want one of everything.
So, now you know. The Huntington is more than an art museum, more than a library and more than a garden. It’s shangri-la, the garden of eden and utopia all rolled into one. Go! It’s wonderful!
But my day wasn’t over! I was meeting one of my besties at one of my favorite places for dinner. Come back next week and I’ll tell you about it.
jane sadek 