From Mesa Verde, it was back to Texas. I’d been wanting to have the flooring replaced in the motorhome (it’s ten-year-old carpet and linoleum), and I figured a big, prosperous city like Dallas would be a good place to find someone to do the work.
We made better time getting to Texas than we expected, but found that most campgrounds were full. Finally, we found a campground in a rural area between Dallas and Fort Worth. The price was a bargain: $16 a night. The park itself was pretty rough, with only the barest vestiges of pavement and markings remaining on the sites. But the hook-ups worked fine, and beggars can’t be choosers.
The second day we were there, the owner’s wife, one of these skeletal 80-year-olds who tries to look 35 by trowelling on the makeup, came and knocked on the door to tell us our front door rug was over the line to the neighbor’s lot. She pointed to a patch of dirt with crumbled asphalt, one crumb of which was, on close inspection, painted white. “We did you a favor by letting you take this site, it’s a monthly site. Didn’t Marvin tell you that?” (No, Marvin didn’t.) Anyway, she didn’t make us move, which was good, because this is what was on the left side of our motorhome which made us park closer to the right border:
The entire park was plastered with warning signs, like this:
Or my personal favorite:
Anyway, we moved out after a few nights to a more expensive but much nicer campground, and the Bluebird of Happiness greeted us.
I called, messaged, and e-mailed numerous flooring places and RV places to try and get estimates. I found a consistent theme: RV places didn’t want to do flooring, and flooring places didn’t want to work on RVs. I finally found an RV place that would give me an estimate, but it turned out they were just wasting my time. They do their business billing insurance companies to repair damaged RVs, and their estimate (delivered 5 days late) for 230 square feet of flooring was a jaw-dropping $17,502! I finally found a man who would do the work at a fair price through word-of-mouth, but his first available slot was in December!
In the meantime, we put the motorhome in storage and stayed at an AirBnB in McKinney pending our flight to Ireland. Now, I am normally an adherent of Jimmy Buffett’s advice: “If you ever get a chance to go to Dallas, don’t.” But McKinney is an adorable little hipster burb with a walkable downtown, live music, shops and restaurants. We enjoyed our week there, walking or riding our bikes into town almost daily, except for the AirBnB. It turned out to be, let’s say, not exactly as specified. The listing described it as a “roomy one-bedroom suite,” but it was actually an enclosed porch with a rickety daybed. By the time we left for the airport, our poor backs were pretty rickety as well!
We were definitely ready for something completely different…
Down around the Gulf Coast we went, heading for Texas! After a one-night stay at the Cajun Corner campground, where we shared a hot tub with an obnoxious drunken Canadian woman and her entourage, we headed down to Bolivar.
The Bolivar peninsula is a barrier island, not much more than a line of sand dunes, not far from Houston. It’s basically a single strip of road with beach homes and small businesses on either side. Bolivar’s beaches are open for cars to drive on (with a permit, purchasable at the bait shop; the government has to get its cut somehow!). The crowd on the beach varies from fishermen to surfers to families out for a picnic, and ranged from ebony-skinned to pallid folks like me, with the language overheard as likely to be Spanish as English.
The Bolivar peninsula also appears to be one of the towns with the highest concentration of RVs of anywhere I’ve ever been! The peninsula is vulnerable to hurricanes, so all the houses built in the last 40 or 50 years are up on stilts. The area underneath the homes makes a perfect RV parking pad, and many homes have sewer and electric hookups at ground level included in their construction. Quite a few landowners have skipped the house part of the equation entirely, and they just have a sundeck on stilts with hookups underneath. (One local told me that lots of people couldn’t afford to insure a house, but they can afford to lose an RV in a hurricane). Some of them are single hookups for just the owner’s 5th-wheel or motorhome, but quite a few of them also have slots available for rent.
We had already reserved a space at an actual RV park, Paula’s Vineyard, with which we were delighted. It was gated and quiet and had excellent laundry facilities. Laundry facilities are one of the make-or-break items when you are traveling by motorhome, and good ones make the inevitable laundry day so much more pleasant. It also was home to this little cutie, a calico-point Siamese who trotted right up and made herself at home! We miss World Traveler Kitty Tapioca since she left for the sunny window in the sky last Fall, but we are planning to do more international travel soon, so we are not ready to take on another cat. We had a hard time convincing Dirt (that’s what they’d named her at the campground) of that!
Bolivar is connected to Galveston by a ferry, and we took our toad (towed car) across on Saturday night to look around and enjoy the nightlife.
We had a great Mexican dinner at Salsa’s on the beach and then enjoyed a local singer-songwriter performing at a little club called The Old Quarter, complete with an impromptu belly-dance performance by an audience member. When we got back “home” to our snail shell, guess who was waiting for us on top of the front tire?
I was a little apprehensive about the trip across on the ferry in the motorhome the next day. As I’ve mentioned before, when you choose the snail’s life of full-time RV living, you put everything you can’t live without into a box hurtling through space. Putting that box on a big floating platform in the middle of the water was a whole new level of trust in the benevolence of the Universe!
But we made it across just fine, and then it was inland, to experience Texas proper!
No USA motorhome tour would be complete without at least one stop at a casino. Everywhere you go nowadays, casinos seem to be an attraction. I guess I’m showing my age when I say that I remember when you had to go to Las Vegas or Atlantic City to gamble legally; it used to be that huge amounts of money changed hands off the record, in the form of bets, and I guess the government and its coddled spawn, the corporations, decided that they needed to get a cut, so now big hotel complexes with golf courses, RV parks, and overpriced gift shops dot the landscape, nationwide.
Biloxi, Mississipi was one of the first areas to jump on the casino trend, and the Hollywood Casino Hotel and RV park is one of the most-highly reviewed online, so we made our way across the Mobile Bay area, skirted New Orleans, and checked into a campsite with a fabulous view of the bayou out our bedroom window!
The property was huge and even the non-golf-course portions were criss-crossed with asphalt trails which their maintenance staff used to get around in golf carts, so I got some great bike riding in. I had been looking forward to using their advertised hot tub and enjoying their poolside bar and grill, but when we got there we found that while the pool was accessible, the hot tub was not, and the services were not yet open for the season, despite the lovely Gulf Coast March weather.
A day trip across the causeway to the beach town of Pass Christian brought us to more of the Gulf Coast’s famous sugar sand beaches, with restaurants and chic shops right across the way. The New Orleans influence was undeniable, both in the menus, and in other details. Recycling is popular everywhere right now, but where else do you find Mardis-Gras-bead recycling stations in the grocery stores?
Mardi Gras bead recycling
We popped our inflatable beach loungers open and let them catch the breeze and enjoyed a lazy afternoon in the sun.
Oh, and we did visit the casino a couple of times. I was looking forward to the musical clinkety-chink of quarters dropping into the slots and spilling out into the cup when you won. But alas, that’s apparently not how it’s done anymore. The woman at the counter shook her head as she sold me a plastic card. “No, no more quarters,” she lamented. “They evacuated us for Katrina, and when we came back after Katrina they told us it was all plastic cards now.” I put $100 on the card and began: I played the slots for a while, but they were all electronic push-buttons; I missed the tactile satisfaction of pulling down the handle. I couldn’t ignore the niggling awareness of how much easier it is to rig the system when an electronic card tracks your winnings and the machines are all wired into a network. I got $18.75 ahead, and quit.
The hotel did offer a huge, decadently lavish buffet. Steve ate his weight in crab claws and I made a pig of myself at the dessert table. Then it was time to pull up stakes and move on!
One thing I enjoy about getting older: my jewelry collection has grown over the years and I have lots of “sparklies” to wear. When I came back from Latin America, one thing I looked forward to was being able to wear my ornaments without worrying that they made me look like a wealthy gringa, an inviting target for grab-and-run petty thefts.
What I didn’t count on was the difficulty of keeping jewelry in an RV. The full-time RV lifestyle requires rigid discipline regarding what you keep because space is at a premium (as is weight, but that’s a topic for a different post). Steve and I almost had an argument over an empty jelly jar a couple of days ago. (Me: “What are you keeping this for?” Him: “I might use it.” Me: “What are you going to use it for?” Him: “Well, nothing in particular…” Me: “It’s garbage.” And out it went.)
So, we share a single, 40-inch wide closet and one large bureau-style drawer. I gave up my jewelry armoire with regret and packed my jewelry in hanging backs with sew-on rows of clear plastic zippered pouches, which work really well for rings, bracelets, and earrings. Necklaces, not so much. I tried putting the chains through drinking straws, but that didn’t really do much to stop the tangling.
At Michael’s craft store with my darling daughter, I discovered this: it’s a craft organizer, I suppose, but it’s PERFECT for storing my jewelry in the RV. It took me almost an hour to untangle the necklaces, but look how pretty and organized it looked when I was done! I hope it works as well as it looks like it will. I’ll keep you lady RVers posted.
If you’d like some more tips and advice about ways to make the most of the limited storage space in an RV, let me know using the feedback form below! Thanks!
After leaving Saint Petersburg, our next destination was the KOA campground on the South Florida destination of Pine Island. I have to confess, though, Pine Island was not our original intended destination. We both had blissful memories of visiting Sanibel and Captiva islands in our separate youths, some 30 years ago. The strip of sand in the gulf was long stretches of dunes with sea oats on one side, and long stretches of mangrove thickets on the other, until you reached the resort at the end of the island. When we decided to try the RVing Snowbird stunt of wintering in Florida, that location was the first thing that crossed our minds! So I opened the Allstays app on my phone and discovered there is one RV campground on Sanibel. I contacted them, and the perky lady who answered the phone informed me that they were accepting applications for RV campsights — for Winter, 2017-2018! The cost of a monthly site was also more than the mortgage payment used to be on my 4,000-square-foot pool home! So, I began to call around to nearby RV campgrounds.
We’d been making hops from place to place for over six months. Our longest stay in one RV campground turned out to be about two weeks. We were getting a little tire of the routine of packing everything up, moving, and setting back up again. We were ready to squat someplace idyllic for a couple of months. Since we were going to be setting up in our motorhome for two months, we really wanted a place with full hook-ups, so State Parks were out. It turns out that South Florida really does pack out in the wintertime.
Florida is growing, seemingly unstoppably! The population went on steadily during the 28 years I lived in the Sunshine State, sometimes fast, sometimes a little slower, but it always went in just one direction: up! I lived in North Florida, where we got what some would call a real Winter (it even snows there every decade or so!), so I wasn’t completely aware of the Snowbird phenomenon, though I’d heard my ex’s Central-Florida relatives talk about it with frustration. We finally found a campsite on the next island inside the barrier line formed by Sanibel and Captiva, known as Pine Island, and on January 2nd we rolled into the KOA Pine Island, Saint James City, Florida.
The ospreys are like pigeons here!
Ospreys abound on Pine Island
We were a bit disappointed by where they put us: it was a HUGE campground and we were almost at the end, all the way at the farthest point from the entrance. We were even more disappointed by the fact that the bathhouse/laundry room they put us next to was decommissioned, and then we were aggravated when workers began hammering and sawing on the bathhouse to renovate it every morning at 7:00 am! Our neighbor across the street, call him Don from Indiana, had a very loud voice, a very loud boombox, and a love for 70s rock music. RV life can be wonderful at times, but sometimes it’s close-quarters living. When you’re so near your neighbors, their level of courtesy can make or break the experience. But we undertook the full-time RVing adventure with a determination to make the best of what we encountered, so we adjusted as best we could!
We took a drive out to Sanibel/Captiva and found bumper-to-bumper traffic on that Tuesday afternoon, starting in downtown Cape Coral and continuing all the way across the causeway. The causeway has been made into a linear beach park, and we were excited as we saw glimpses of what our memories told us we were about to find stretching for miles out on the islands.
No such luck. The islands are a string of non-stop bumper-to-bumper gawking tourists. The beach is screened from sight by rows and rows of million-dollar homes and condos, and the local bait shop has been replaced by chic strip centers full of jewelry stores selling 14-karat-gold dolphin pendants and sarongs. We managed to make a left turn across traffic and eat an indifferent basket of fried fish and hush puppies at an absolutely forgettable tourist joint (price: $22), and we were on our way back. We did go back another day and pay the $6 to get onto the causeway, where we enjoyed a picnic and I watched Steve fish.
I am, by the way, an excellent fishing supervisor. We found out that the shore fishing was best at the pier of the public park in nearby Matlacha (pronounced mat-la-shay).
Steve perfects the art of holding the fish out so it looks bigger
This bird was very interested in helping with the fish guts!
Matlacha also has a couple of nice, casual restaurants and some truly remarkable art galleries. It’s a nice day trip all on its own.
Panoramic view of art garden at Leoma Lovegood’s
Leoma Lovegrove Art Gallery has a fabulous art garden with gazebo
A new meaning to the words, “tiny house!”
We got the KOA to move us to a closer-in campsite where the wi-fi was better (campground wi-fi is never great, but I need connectivity for my copy editing work). Before we did that, though, I solved the problem of being so far out by putting my Amazon Prime membership to good use and ordering a beach cruiser bicycle!
I had sold my old mountain bike when my wrists went bad and I couldn’t put weight on them anymore, but this bicycle allows me to sit upright with just my fingers on the handlebars. I started taking nice long bike rides up and down Pine Island’s single main road from Saint James on one end to Bokeelia on the other end. To my delight, the plantar fasciitis which has been such a recurring annoyance the last few months, began to improve with the cycling (whereas stretching, splints, orthotics, laser, ultrasound, drugs, and injections had proved less effective). The breezy sunshine of South Florida makes it a pleasure, too. I feel like a kid again!
Let us know how you like our blog about RVing America!
My daughter lives in Saint Petersburg, so after spending Christmas with my son in Tallahassee, we pulled the slides in on the RV and we were off to the Madeira Beach KOA. Heading down the street towards the campground, we were sure we’d taken a wrong turn and we’d have to unhitch the toad and turn around. To our surprise, when we got to the end of the rutted street with its chain link fences and corrugated metal buildings, there was a perfectly delightful little campground at the end. The RV sites were packed really tightly together, but I’m getting to be an old hand at this and we managed to unhook and then pull into our site on the first try!
We had been warned that RV camping in Florida in the winter is crowded and not cheap. This was New Years’ weekend and I am here to tell you, the rumors are true! If you are looking for inexpensive RVing in Florida, you will have to try somewhere further inland. There was not a free site in the whole campground and the sites were barely big enough for our rigs. But the power worked, the wi-fi worked passably, and the campground was not too noisy given the number of children and families. The pool area looked really pleasant too, but we spent most of our brief visit with my daughter (she had a birthday while we were there), so we didn’t swim.
Saint Pete has a New Years’ Eve celebration which they call First Night. If you are traveling the country by RV, this might confuse you because a lot of towns up north have a First Night festival the night of January 1st. But it’s all good! The tickets for First Night included a nifty little souvenir pin with a flashing LED: very festive!
The whole downtown area of Saint Petersburg, including parks, museums, and churches, is taken up by the First Night celebration.
When traveling by RV, having a toad (towed vehicle) makes it easier to explore urban downtowns. Since there is no public transportation access to the neighborhood, we drove in, and parking was not convenient or fun, as is typical in US cities. The garage was not well-marked, there was a long line to get in, and we circled the multi-floor garage for what seemed like forever before we found a spot.
But once we exited our cars, we joined a festive throng of merrymakers. It was nice to get out of the car and to be able to walk around in the streets.
There were parades, dance shows, jazz concerts, and street activities. We got tired of walking around not long before midnight and we snuck onto the pier of a private marina where we watched the fireworks from the dock. All in all, it was a splendid start to 2017!
Yes, it’s been a long time since I posted to this blog. When we turned our big Thor Hurricane RV south towards the white sand beaches of the Gulf of Mexico, I promised a post about our visit to NOLA. However, I did say that if the whole country lost its shinola after the election, all bets were off. While we didn’t have a military coup or a violent revolution, we did have rioting in the streets, and some scary talk about not allowing the results to stand.
Rather than going back to their regularly scheduled programming, people proceeded to get uglier and uglier, and the media spin got more and more absurd, in the weeks after the vote. I really tried to disengage from social media, but the irrationality and propaganda on both sides was such a freeway pileup that I could not force myself to look away. It left me feeling markedly misanthropic and burned out on trying to communicate for a while.
So, anyway, we drove the RV south to the Gulf of Mexico, and our landing spot in New Orleans was French Quarter RV Resort. I was absolutely thrilled to learn there was an RV campground literally just a few steps from the tourist district! The resort itself was very luxe (with a price to match, of course). We walked over to the great Mississipi and had ourselves some beignets and cafés au lait, then walked about and enjoyed the ubiquitous buskers. We shopped the French Market stalls and picked up gifts for Christmas and our families’ December-heavy birthday season. The crowds were as interesting as the attractions, with colorful attire on the locals and international tourists everywhere.
I connected with my cousin Dean while we were there. He took us to a lovely little restaurant a little off the beaten tourist path, a live-music, wine and food venue known as Bacchanal, where we reminisced about our childhood days and speculated on the future. It was a short, three-day visit, and we wished we could stay longer. We stopped in Mobile to visit with Dean’s sister, my cousin Laura, and then it was on to points east, and less glamourous, but also less expensive, RV campgrounds on the Florida Gulf Coast.
We had some mechanical issues at an overnight in Crestview, Florida, which turned the stop into a three-day stay, and then it was on to our old stomping grounds, the Big Bend of Florida (or as it’s colloquially known, “the armpit”). We had reserved a stay at one of our old favorite campgrounds, Indian Pass, right out on the point near Saint Vincent National Wildlife Refuge. When we got there, we learned that the campground had changed hands and things were, let’s just say, somewhat less than optimal, especially for our planned six-week stay!
Fortunately, the Allstays app (which I really can’t say enough good things about) pointed us towards the next-closest campground, Presnell’s, where we were installed in a full hook-up right on the beach. The first month we were there the campground was sparsely inhabited; the few long-termers like us had a great campfire a couple of times. We got re-acquainted with ibises, no-see-’ems, and sandspurs.
A sand spur! Bane of barefoot Floridians!
The sunset from our campsite
Another reason I’ve been a little sad and not feeling like posting: World Traveler Kitty Tapioca left this world behind. She was 18 years old, so it was not exactly a shock when she sickened, and then died within a few days. She had a good life and she was purring right up to the very end. She had waited till she was close to her birthplace, and she was buried in my son’s Tallahassee backyard. Some animals are more than just pets, and Tappie was one of them.
The one thing that frustrated us is that we missed eleven days there because we were having problems resolving our mechanical issues completely. Thor motor coaches had failed to notify us or the prior owner regarding a recall and the Camping World kept delaying and putting us off. We spent a few days at a hotel by our storage locker, going through all our stuff, putting some stuff in we didn’t need, taking some stuff out that we’d missed, always thinking about weight and space in the motorhome. We did discover that we had WAY too many tools, and our separate toolboxes had WAY too many duplicates, so I’d estimate we lost 50-60 lbs. of tools alone by the time we were done!
We then wound up spending five nights in the Camping World parking lot, between a freeway and a railroad track, each day expecting the next day to be our last one there. Finally, Camping World resolved our issues in a more than satisfactory way, and we settled back in by the seashore. (We are still waiting on Thor to reimburse us for earlier recall repairs or even to explain the mix-up.)
I also visited my favorite hairstylist and colorist for a groovy new ‘do. The waist-length hippie hair was getting a bit cumbersome with which to deal.
Both Steve and I have had sad Christmas memories and feel like the fuss and bother of the holidays is just overdone unless there are little kids around. Fortunately, an RV in Florida is the best place for a laid-back Christmas celebration! All our children are way too big to believe in Santa, and there are no grandchildren yet, so my 21-year-old son joined us for a roast leg of lamb and an afternoon of fishing, and that was our celebration. Bah, humbug!
Now we are on our way down to Madeira Beach, where we’ll celebrate New Years, and then settle in to Pine Island near Fort Myers. I hope all my readers had a great holiday and I wish you all a safe and happy New Year celebration!