So, we’re an hour away from Brownsville, and while Tracy’s driving, I do a little research, make a couple of calls, and, presto, we change where we’re staying this winter. And I sure hope it’s an upgrade; it certainly costs more.
The trouble with last year’s mobile home park is that the decent campsites (aka happenstance empty lots) we had picked as possibilities for this year have been taken, which I found out when I called Chris to let her know we were about to show up. That changes things. So I looked for availability in the massive rv resort we’d spent a lot of time considering last year, and damned if it didn’t have open spots despite what we’d been told in the spring.
We drove through, picked a “back-in deluxe” site against a bit of water, gave them a hunk of money, and now we’re spending three months in an even more unlikely place than a mobile home park—an upscale resort.
Yeah, it’s got big campsites, a pool, weekly yoga, a beer garden. What it doesn’t have—that last year’s low-rent place does—is a community of locals and snowbirds, all mixing it up. Well, maybe the snowbirds here will turn out to be super cool, you never know. (Could they beat drunk karaoke in Spanish, with dancing, though?)
Also missing: trees. This “Jetstream” place has been built on former farmland, and it’s basically a flat field with paved campsites laid on top. They’re having trouble with drainage …
… and the palm trees are bitty. Goodbye lush tropical, blooming landscape, hello bland, cookie cutter place where the wind is gonna rip through with not a thing to block it.
Did I mention the pool though? Gah. Sign me up.
What really sold me is the dream of being able to walk Banjo without having a panic attack each morning. My fear of running into other dogs with her has gotten more outlandish, and three months of trying to avoid that off-leash Rottweiler in the mobile home park’s open area and, worse, the chihuahua that would slip its tie and rush Banjo, was wigging me out. Not to mention the ever-present pack of roaming street dogs that wander in.
Here I’m sure street dogs can still get in, but I’m thinking management works a bit harder to shoo them off. I already walked her all around the place this morning and didn’t run into a single danged off-leash dog, hurray! (That’s when I took all these pre-dawn photos.)
Banjo did get her paws muddy due to the soggy landscaping around here, but that’s why they have several dog-wash stations.
You can tell how excited Banjo is about that.
Cheer up, Banjo! We’ve set up our mismatched, beloved outside living room behind the trailer, we’re thinking about getting cheap deck furniture for beside the trailer, and we’re planning our to-do lists, both repairs from the Alaska trip and fun stuff.
We actually have a full set of plans for the next three months. But I’m not gonna think about all that just yet; I’m gonna settle in for a little bit. Breathe in deeply, release.
Yay to pools and dog wash stations…
Boo to giant treeless mud.
I guess you have to take the good with the bad.
If nothing else it’s a new adventure.
😊
That’s a great motto I’m hereby adopting: If nothing else, it’s a new adventure. Thanks!
So many things go wrong when we travel I have to look at it that way.
Or drink.
Sometimes I drink…
🍸
One of my favorite sayings is from a friend about what it would look like if he and I were traveling together: we’d be broke down on the side of the road, lost, and drunk. That’s me without Tracy for sure.
Glad you found an acceptable spot. I know they can cost! Our friends finally gave in to the horror of the expense for their RV resort in Florida and bought a condo for their snowbird time. As I said last year my folks spent a winter in Brownsville in their RV one year. Two things I remember from their time there – a photo of the two of them lounging outside the RV in their bathing suits, taken on my birthday (December 10th), just to rub it in, and their story of the young teens coming across the border to nick watches off the golf carts when golfers weren’t looking. They come back the next day and offer to sell your watch back to you! I suspect you’ll find Spanish karaoke.
I had forgotten about your parents having spent a winter in Brownsville! I love that photo memory; I am always trying to decide if it’s mean-spirited for me to share photos of warm places during winter or if friends enjoy seeing them. I expect they do not! My beef so far with this resort is it’s been built way out of town, so whereas before I was in the midst of neighborhoods and people doing normal stuff, I’m very isolated here. I tried to walk out yesterday and got freaked out by walking along the highway and turned around. I guess some people feel safer being insulated, but I miss the culture of Brownsville, actually. We will just have to drive to where we want to go for the day.
I hope you have a great winter! You deserve an upgrade.
Thanks, Matt!
The beer garden alone makes me think this was a worthwhile stop in which to hitch your proverbial wagon for a few months.
The beer garden seems to be a spot with Adirondack chairs and sand on the ground and a sign with rules. Where is my free/cheap beer, I’d like to know. I will report back after official happy hour on Friday.
Ahh, well. That’s a beer garden in the flimsiest sense only.
A marketing ploy. They sure know how to bait us, though!
They’re master baiters alright!