My wife has been waiting all year for her vacation--a cruise because she loves sea days. We chose the last week we could before the kids going back to school. We also chose the port of Galveston because we've been considering a retirement home there. I reserved a hotel for two nights on the seawall, with easy access to the beach and the houses we wanted to look at.
Instead of flying, we drove down over two days. We even scheduled a realtor for Friday. The hotel we picked was once a Super 8, but had changed to America's Best Value. The area had experienced flash floods, limiting our choices. The hotel reeked. Someone had propped open the front door with a towel because the air conditioning wasn't working well. The utter lack of security made the family nervous, but we soldiered on. Nothing in the room worked as intended--clock, light switches, etc. Even the water from the faucet smelled. We put all the clothes we wore in those beds into plastic bags to be washed as soon as possible.
Thursday morning, we saw Galveston had a tropical storm warning. The hurricane would hit far away in Corpus Christi. The Galveston hotel said that everything was still good there.
That afternoon, we were passing through the north Dallas area in 85-degree heat when our AC stopped working. It was one of those weird moments where you look at your partner and say, "This shouldn't be happening, but the universe is trying to tell us something." It happened within thirty minutes of the Honda dealership we went to when we lived in Texas. The dealership was five minutes from our favorite restaurant--The Blue Goose.
We sat in the dealership two hours while they replaced two parts that just stopped working. It blew colder than ever when they handed it back. In the meantime, we called old friends to meet us at the restaurant. Things seemed to take longer than normal at the restaurant. My son ate little, saving room for Krispy Kreme--another ten minutes south. Given that we had a check-in time of one a.m. to keep the reservation, I was blowing a gasket inside during the side trip. But a still voice inside told me to roll with it. We had half an hour to spare, and Pierce rarely asked for food. He's just as tall and skinny as I was at his age.
As we ate our free hot-and-fresh donut samples, the poor women behind the counter said we were the nicest customers she'd ever had. It seems others in Allen had a sense of entitlement. All this reinforced our resolve to raise our kids near family in Minnesota. When we left this area, our neighbors' sixteen-year-old had just wrecked his brand new sports car. The schools had just installed cameras to prevent drug sales on campus. Instead, our kids learned to split wood and do chores to earn college money.
Before we continued the trip, new Pokemon popped up on our phones. The family chased them, narrowing our margin even further. Signs on the highway told us to avoid the coast. As we reached the college town north of Houston, signs changed to "Get gas now." Heeding the warnings, we got off to ask questions. We were about two hours away from the hotel and the deadline. We managed to top off our tank minutes before the station ran out of regular. The warning for Galveston had been upgraded to a full hurricane. The hotel clerk told us they were still open. However, a man in the parking lot warned us *not* to go there. Listening to him was like hearing an Old Testament warning to a town facing destruction. When we called the hotel back, the clerk admitted that the whole place would be flooded and everything closed. He also told us that they would be obliged to give us our money back if we called the company we scheduled through before check-in time. The gas station was surrounded by less expensive hotels, food places, and malls. We heeded the warnings and canceled. As we checked in to the Best Western, the Port of Galveston texted us that the port would be closed until further notice.
The first day of waiting was nice despite the rain--Pokemon Go in the malls, great dining, and a family card game while we watched a movie on the TV.
The news told us that the shutdown would likely last till Tuesday. Cruise ships would be taking on supplies in New Orleans, letting off any customers who wanted to go. The port said that depending on damage, they might reopen as early as Monday. Looking at houses would be out of the question till then. The cruise line said that they would give a partial refund but give a shortened cruise with an unspecified itinerary ... we still don't know when or where. Every hour before landfall, there are warnings on the TV about tornadoes and flash floods. Winds on the coast reach 130 mph, but it should all be over tomorrow.
As there are no cheap last-minute flights or other cruises, we stuck in the holding pattern. Saturday, we had to extend our reservation at the hotel indefinitely. Fortunately, due to "evacuation", we don't need to pay tax on the emergency stay.
On the down side, the mayor of Houston has asked everyone to stay indoors. For periodic rain? Since the people at Burger King took him seriously, we had to buy food at Walmart for the next few days. We repeated yesterday's trip to the mall. Almost everything was closed except the food court. I got a Sonic milkshake to share with the family. We took all the Pokemon gyms in the area and had fun on the riverwalk. We found dozens of Magicarps, Slowpokes, and Psyducks. By five, it's pouring rain, and we had to run back to the car. Everything is closed, so we head back to the hotel to watch the Twilight marathon. The emergency broadcast system interrupted every 15 minutes.
The port is waiting for the rain to stop before they assess damage. Still no word on when the real vacation will begin. Even after its "death", Harvey holds us hostage.
