PADRE ON!!

In June of 1998, Gail and I had the opportunity to take a real vacation. By real I mean a whole week, (not just a long weekend) where we would travel to a resort location, without kids, and simply spend the time relaxing and playing. It had been almost five years since we had taken this type of vacation. We deliberated for several months on where to go. We decided to travel to South Padre Island. This is an island located at the southernmost tip of Texas. This story will give you a brief overview of our vacation there, and what this island offers visitors.

We arrived at the island at around 10:00 p.m. a bit fatigued from the seven hour drive from Houston. We both perked up when we caught the view of the island as we crossed the causeway bridge which connects it to the mainland. The island is a long narrow strip of land. On one side is Laguna Madre (the bay side) on the other is the Gulf of Mexico (the ocean side). Coming across the bridge, visitors are treated to a view of the lights from the many waterside resort hotels and restaurants reflecting off the smooth surface of Laguna Madre. This view sets a mood of excitement, enjoyment, and perhaps even a bit of indulgence. Our level of fatigue steers us away from any excitement on our first night. We checked into our condominium, unpacked, watched part of a movie, and fell asleep. Pretty wild eh?

"The haze is so thick," Gail said as she looked out the window. "We won't be getting a tan today." I did mention that South Padre Island is at the southernmost tip of Texas. For those of you who are not geographically inclined (like me) that puts the island right next to Mexico. Beginning in the spring of 1998, the inhabitants of certain parts of Mexico decided to burn off large areas of land to clear it, for agricultural purposes I suppose. This generated large amounts of smoke and dust and went on for several months. I suspect that the fires were roaring along well before anyone gave thought as to how to put it out. The smoke and dust, in a blatant disregard for international borders, floated over to the southern portion of Texas. This created a haze which blocked out the sun almost entirely, and wreaked havoc on anyone with even the slightest allergic tendencies. According to the meteorologists, we would have one more day of haze, then a weather front would blow it back to Mexico and we would enjoy several days of sunshine. Gail and I decided to use this hazy day to do a bit of shopping, and then travel to Mexico.

Three border towns are easily accessed from this part of Texas, they are called Matamorros, Progresso, and Reynosa. Matamoros is just across from the U.S. border town, Brownsville. It is closest to South Padre Island, about 30 miles. It is where we normally go. In a recent trip to London, I met someone from McAllen, Texas. When I told her about our upcoming trip to the Island, she told me that we should check out Reynosa, right across from McAllen. It was reportedly a nicer town that Matamorros, more tailored to U.S. visitors. It was about 50 miles from the Island. Gail and I decided to try out Reynosa.

We paid our quarter to walk across the bridge separating the U.S. from Mexico. It is an eerie feeling to step outside the boundaries of the law which you depend on for protection. Each time I walk into Mexico, I become aware of the fact that I can not count on any law or anyone else to protect me. The safety of Gail and I is completely in our (and God's) hands. It is strange to stand on the bridge looking at the Rio Grande river and realize that doing something as seemingly harmless as swimming from one bank to another would cause armed border patrol guards to capture you and escort you to jail. Incidentally, this river is not "Grande" in width, it is only about 100 feet across at this location.

Border towns in Mexico are fun to visit. The food and drink are very inexpensive. There are plenty of shops selling hand-crafted goods from clothing to furniture. It is a good place to buy items made from wood, hand blown glass, leather, or wrought iron. The items aren't always of the highest quality, but they have a substantial, rugged look that I find appealing. Gail and I find that it is best to duck into a Cantina for a couple cervezas soon after crossing the border. The friendly demeanor of the bartender, and the relaxing effect of the drink helps us to adjust to the pace and enjoy the new surroundings.

There is an abundance of night life in South Padre Island. Huge water front restaurants/night clubs line the shore of Laguna Madre. While sitting on the deck of Louie's Backyard enjoying live music and snacking on appetizers we looked to our right to watch a beautiful sunset over the bay and looked to our left to watch bungee jumpers bouncing around, tethered to the crane located in the parking lot. As the music from the live band wound down we heard the pounding rythms of another band behind us. They sounded great, they were at another water front night club. We paid our tab and walked over to the Sunrise Grill. The place was not crowded yet so we were able to sit up close to the band. They played on a deck on the second level of the night club. The lights and stars reflecting off of the bay formed the backdrop for the band. The band was good, the view was good, the cool breeze blowing across the bay was good. Life was good. Gail and I danced and danced and danced. My muscles were sore for two days.

The haze had blown away, it was partly cloudy, but with plenty of sunshine. Gail and I decided to spend time some time on the beach. The Gulf of Mexico stays relatively warm all year, so it teems with aquatic life. One particular form of abundant aquatic life is the Man O'War. These are purple colored balloons with long tentacles that are used to paralyze fish and sting the heck out of tourists. One "fun" thing to do is run down the beach stomping on the "balloons" which have washed up and died. They pop like a blown up plastic bag. The funny thing is, the tentacles can still sting. I learned this when I was about 12 years old. I stomped, it popped, and a tentacle flew into the air and hit me in the calf. Over a period of a half hour the pain traveled slowly up my leg. I feel sorry for the fish that bumps into a Man O'War.

We decided to have dinner at Amberjack's located on the bayside. It is a tastefully decorated restaurant with two levels. The ground level has and inside and outside portion, both with spectacular views of the bay. The upper level typically has a live band playing, with more of a party atmosphere, also with an excellent view of the bay. People buzzed by on wave riders and small boats as we relaxed in the afternoon sun. Aromas from a charcoal grill, and freshly prepared seafood dishes occasionally floated by our table. Seagulls laughed. The bay breeze ruffled the leaves of the tropical plants located on the clay tiled deck. The flavors of the raw oysters and the icy rum-runner blended perfectly with the exotic resort surroundings.

"This is first, second, third, fourth, and reverse," the woman at the dune buggy rental said. "Okay," I said, "I think I've got it." It had been a long time since I had driven a rear engine, rear wheel drive Volkswagen, and I had only driven a dune buggy once before. Gail and I had decided to stay in a less than world class condominium and use the money saved to do fun things, like renting a dune buggy. We wrestled the heavily rusted (everything metallic on the dune buggy was rusted) seatbelts out from under the seats and snapped them around our waists. "Baroommbababababa," the engine fired up with one twist of the (rusty) ignition. "Grrthunk," I forced the shift lever into first gear, or in the general vicinity, the shifter was so loose and vague it was like moving a stick through a bucketful of marbles. We pulled out of the parking lot into the street and I immediately noticed several things:
  1. The side view mirror was loose, flopping around, and useless, showing me a view of the pavement next to the left rear tire
  2. No matter how hard I tried, I could not force the transmission into reverse (I thought I was shifting into "second")
  3. The dune buggy had a hard time accelerating from 5 miles per hour in fourth gear
  4. The rear view mirror was missing, so, short of craning my neck all the way around the rear perimeter of the car, I never knew when I was about to cut someone off behind me.
"Booowaaahhhhh, Burrrrr, Geeeiiirrrgrunch, Booowaaahhhh." We were off and running down Padre Boulevard in our loud, shaky dune buggy. Look out beach, here we come!

Gail and I shot off of the road onto the bay side beach. "Maximum Speed 10 MPH," the sign read. The buggy shook, banged and rattled so hard that we thought it might break in half.
"How fast are we going," said Gail "I don't know, maybe 10 miles per hour, the speedometer is broken," I respond.
The dune buggy had a full array of gauges, the tachometer was the only one working. The buggy had obviously lived through some rough times, but it held up. Gail took the wheel for awhile. She was a bit apprehensive at first, but a smile came across her face after a moment behind the wheel. Running the dune buggy across the sand was alot like running across a series of parking lot speed bumps, it hammered our guts out. Sand kicked up into the air and swirled around us, sticking to the suntan lotion we had applied to ourselves earlier. After about an hour of driving we were each covered with a thin layer of sand. We looked like breaded shrimp. We were having a blast but decided to escape from the sun, wind and sand for a bit and pulled the buggy into the parking lot of a beach side club called Parrot Eyes.

This club is located on the bay side of the island in a fairly remote area. It is completely open to the outdoors on the side facing the bay. There are several levels of decks and a pier which has several personal watercraft and a ski boat which can be rented. The seating arrangements are unique, it consists of a choice of upholstered 50 gallon drums, wooden patio-style chairs with integral tables, one piece fiberglass fish-shaped chaise lounges and hammocks. Patrons have a choice of laying in the sun near the water's edge, or lounge in the shade under palm fronds and ceiling fans. It is impossible to not be completely laid back and relaxed at the Parrot Eyes club. It is the perfect place to unwind with a cold beer and a cigar, which is what I did. There were two live parrots in the club when we visited. I let one of them climb onto my arm, and then my shoulder, pirate style. "Maybe someone will mistake me for Jimmy Buffett," I thought, while walking around, parrot on shoulder, thinking I looked pretty cool.

On our last full day on the island we decided to go bay fishing. We boarded "Fish Tales" around 9:00 a.m. and headed out to the point where the bay just opens up into the Gulf of Mexico. We didn't get too much action that day, but it was very enjoyable. The breeze kept us cool, and the ship was very stable. We saw quite a few dolphins playing in the bay. A large ship entered the bay and passed nearby, we were able to watch the dolphin leaping in and out of its bow wake. The first mate, his name is Noe (pronounced no-ee), spent alot of time with us and the other passengers. He was fun to talk to, he had a lot of stories to tell. Even the captain of the vessel came down and fished with us for awhile. The captain's name is Kirk. Captain Kirk. I'm not kidding.

Well that summarizes our vacation in South Padre Island. We loved it, and we'll be going back.

Here are some photos from the trip.


The Dune Buggy
The first mate "Noe" (he's the one wearing a shirt)
Captain "Kirk" of the vessel "Fish Tales"
Padre J. Nicolas Balli
The children of Reynosa

First Cantina stop
The streets of Reynosa
Dolphin in the Laguna Madre
Dune Flowers
Gail at speed in the Dune Buggy

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