I have been to San Antonio twice now, so you might assume that I saw the Alamo. Yes, the Alamo of “Remember the Alamo” fame.
However, both of my visits lasted only about an hour, and took place in the middle of the night, because my visits to the city have actually been train stops as the Sunset Limited Amtrak stopped in San Antonio on its way between Houston and Los Angeles. So, if you ever find yourself on this train, what can you manage to see of San Antonio?
Trip 1: ‘Twas in the deep December, and I had rushed out of my work office in Houston, taken a bus, then a light rail, then walked to the downtown train station, dragging a heavy suitcase all the way. I made it in time for the 7 pm train, and even got to watch some Home Alone on the station TV while I waited. The train was not delayed, and before midnight, we had arrived in San Antonio. A festive Christmas train greeted us!
I asked around, and checked Google maps, and discovered that the Alamo was just an 18 minute walk away. We had something like an hour and a half wait time before the train was to leave, because two trains arrive in San Antonio at the same time — one originating from Chicago, the other from New Orleans — and they have to hook up there.
Is it safe for me to walk to the Alamo? I asked a random station worker.
Well, it’s not too bad, they answered a little non-conclusively. I walked all the way to the end of the train and got to the intersection with Commerce Street. I looked left. From what I could see, the street was clean, and cute, and had little shops that looked cozy and innocent and like nothing bad ever happened there. On the other hand, the street was pretty empty, and I was by myself, and it was now after midnight, and I was in a new city and would be in a pickle if somehow the train left without me.
So I chickened out, took a photo of the Christmas train, then walked back to my train carriage.
Trip 2: This time, I was traveling from Loserville to Houston, so I was doing Trip 1 in reverse. In this configuration, we arrived to San Antonio on the opposite side of night: right around 5:30 am or so. It was late November, dark out, and our train would leave onwards to Houston at 6:25 am.
Sadly, maybe because traditions had changed, or it was too early in the year, there were no lights at all on the Christmas train!
I double-checked with a train worker for the train’s departure time, and then I sort of meandered aimlessly out to the end of the train, where the tracks intersect with Commerce Street. I wasn’t really going to go any further, though. It was too much of a risk to leave the train and just wander off. I just wanted to take a look. Again, the street was cute, the shops were old-fashioned looking, the palm trees were blowing gently in the breeze, the way was well-lit. Again, it was empty and not the proper time to be taking a city stroll.
Somehow, one footstep led to another, and I found myself marching down Commerce Street towards the Alamo! I met no other pedestrians, but there were a few cars coming and going, and I did make sure to keep checking over my shoulder. A giant Interstate overpass loomed on multiple bridges before me; I plunged into the gloom beneath them and crossed as quickly as I could. Now, many-storied hotels with their names brightly lit emerged, and I passed a city water plant, and then a vast vast lawn that fronted the San Antonio convention center set back from the road.
It was something like 5:45 now, and I was too nervous to try to make it all the way to the Alamo. But I saw on my phone map that if I went just one block further, I would get to the San Antonio “Riverwalk”. With a final spurt of speed, I forged ahead, and all of a sudden, there I was. A lovely humid languid sort of breeze started stirring in the air, I could hear the sound of rippling water, and I was standing on a bridge with the river running beneath me. There were lights everywhere. Along the bridge, along the shiny, towering store fronts, nestled among the trees that led down to the edge of the river. As I stood there, a lone boat came speeding along. It was kind of like being in Venice on a quiet night and a lone gondola coming along!
Flush with the success of having stumbled across something pretty, and of having it all to myself, I decided that triumph would follow triumph, and that it wasn’t much of a jaunt left to the Alamo now. In fact, according to my map, I just had to take a right on the very next street to make it. And then I could finally see this historical building. Maybe I wouldn’t even need to go all the way to the street corner; maybe the Alamo would be visible through gaps in the buildings. In fact, there it was right now.
Ah, but no, it wasn’t. I had walked on ahead and seen the road where I was to go right — it turned out to lead only to a parking garage. I went onwards and a crumbling sort of old building popped up — no, it was only St. Joseph’s Church. (For all I know, this is a big deal, too, but I had a train on a no-nonsense schedule to mind and no time to explore carefully). I looked on ahead, and could see no road emerging soon. According to Google Maps (once I was able to study it leisurely), I was at this point actually only 1 minute away from the road to turn on, and then three more minutes from the Alamo, but the sense of adventure left; the task manager returned; and I realized I really really really didn’t want to miss the train. It was now 5:53 am or so, and I had half an hour to get back.
As you can imagine, I booked it on my way back, half walking, half running. I was envisioning what I would do if the tracks were empty of any train at all on my return, but luckily, the Sunset Limited was still there, stalwart and steady.
So I’ve been to San Antonio twice, and have yet to “Remember the Alamo” on my visits. I don’t actually really know what we are remembering it for. I think the USA lost a war there. But each time I’ve come through on the Sunset Limited, I’ve gone a little further, so hopefully on the third try, I’ll make it all the way.
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