We sat squished together, our suitcases gripped between our knees. A wall of humanity teetered in the aisle and blocked every window view. Each seat was crammed, forcing latecomers to stand and grasp for handholds as the bus shuddered and lurched down the highway.
I raised my eyebrows at my husband, and he grinned. “It’s an adventure!” he said. When Derek found out his annual business conference was in Austin, Texas, this year, he suggested that we go a couple of days early and have our youngest son meet us there for the weekend. Sam lives in Odessa, Texas, which is about a five-hour drive from Austin. Plus, we’d be there just two days after his 26th birthday!
The trip costs quickly added up, so when Derek learned our hotel didn’t offer a shuttle from the airport, he proposed public transport. “Look!” he said. “We can catch the bus outside the terminal under the giant blue guitar and the tickets are just $1 a piece!” The transit website showed a sleek bus with room to stow our luggage.
What we boarded looked like an STA leftover circa 1990. Even more concerning, when I told the driver where we wanted to get off, he shrugged and shook his head. Nevertheless, trusting our Google Maps, we settled in for what we thought would be a 15-minute ride. It’s been a while since I traveled by bus, but in my experience, when the bus is full, the driver doesn’t stop for additional passengers. This logic escaped our driver, who pulled up at EVERY STOP, even when there weren’t any seats left or any straps to hang onto.
Thirty-five minutes later, we got off at what we hoped was our stop. Google said it was a four-minute walk to our hotel. So, we set off, dragging our roller bags behind us. Surrounded by the towering skyscrapers of downtown Austin, my trusty navigator tried to orient us. We didn’t realize our hotel was BEHIND us. After walking for several minutes with no Hyatt Regency in sight, I spotted it while crossing the Congress Avenue Bridge.
We trudged down a set of concrete steps and found the Ann and Roy Butler Hike-and-Bike Trail, which winds around Lady Bird Lake in the heart of the city. I’d read about the trail and was eager to explore it, but didn’t realize it was unpaved and that I’d be lugging my suitcase along it. Minutes later, we were outside the back of our hotel, looking at the beautiful pool.
“Let’s use the pool entrance,” I said. But Derek declined, opting for the front door. He quickly regretted that choice when we discovered construction meant we’d added another quarter-mile to our “adventure.” Eventually, we dragged our sweaty selves (it was 92 degrees) and our dusty luggage into the lobby.
Sam arrived an hour later. By then, we’d recovered enough to add another mile to our walking total, and we hoofed it to the Rainey Street Historic District. The lively area is known for its quaint early 20th century bungalows now transformed into hip bars with live music. Strings of lights around dining patios sparkled, a street magician dealt a deck of cards on the corner, and restaurant hosts beckoned guests from the sidewalks.
You’d think my BBQ-loving spouse would have his heart set on brisket, but instead, he led us to Bangers Sausage House and Beer Garden. Men in lederhosen twirled dirndl-clad gals to polka tunes. Not quite how I’d pictured our first meal in Austin, but the food was delicious, and as we left, a country group replaced the polka band.
Saturday morning, Sam drove us to the state capitol. We explored the extensive grounds populated by moving memorials (the Texas African American History Memorial is breathtaking) before taking a self-guided tour of the building. It’s the sixth-tallest state capitol, and as we peered down from the legislative level, we saw a bridal portrait shoot in the works.
Ready for some brisket, we hit Terry Black’s Barbecue. The line wound from the sidewalk, through the expansive patio, and into the building. The eatery is run with military precision. We followed instructions and soon took loaded plates to a picnic table.
That evening, we got a little batty. The Congress Avenue Bridge is home to the largest urban bat colony in the world, with an estimated population of 1.5 million. Female Mexican free-tailed bats raise an estimated 750,000 pups each year at the bridge. Every night from around mid-March to early November, the bats emerge from under the bridge and blanket the sky as they head out to forage for food.
Our hotel was just steps away from the prime viewing point. Not long after sunset, the bats emerged, swirling and swarming high above our heads. It’s quite a spectacle, and while I’m not fond of bats, I’m even less fond of mosquitoes, so I appreciated their efforts.
Sam returned to Odessa on Sunday, and that evening Derek’s conference began. For the next two days, he attended meetings, received industry updates, and met with fellow business owners from across the nation.
Meanwhile, I basked under the brilliant blue skies and balmy 90-degree temps beside the pool, treated myself to a spa day, and read to my heart’s content. When it was time to check out, I asked if he planned another airport bus ride.
“Nope,” Derek said. “Sam downloaded the Uber app on my phone.” It seems my husband’s appetite for adventure had been amply sated.
Cindy Hval can be reached at dchval@juno.com. Hval is the author of “War Bonds: Love Stories from the Greatest Generation” (Casemate Publishers, 2015) available at Auntie’s Bookstore and bookstores nationwide.