Still, we laze about -- it is Saturday for heaven's sake. We'd bought some microwave breakfasts instead of partaking of the "continental" breakfast the hotel serves, so I cook. Silly me, I think I can grab some orange juice before we head out for the day, but by the time we're ready to go just before 9, the staff is cleaning up, and the juice has been stowed. I must remember that.
We jump in the Cube, set the GPS for Anderson and take Lisa's directions. From what I'd seen on Google maps, she's taking us by a circuitous route, but that turns out alright when we drive through a seriously ritzy neighborhood. I miss a turn, but it's not really Lisa's fault. She'll guide us straight to the entrance of the Fanthorp Inn State Historical Site in Anderson.
Seems Henry Fanthorp settled in Texas while it was still part of Mexico and persuaded Stephen F. Austin to give him some prime land on a major stagecoach route. His original dwelling was in a corn crib, but after he married, the wife, Rachel, decided she needed nicer quarters to live in.
So Henry built your basic dog-run, then expanded it by adding a second story and dining area to accommodate travelers. Eventually the establishment also became the post office, with Henry as postmaster. (http://www.flickr.com/photos/moconn852/sets/72157626072797979/)
While touring the site, we heard the park guide refer several times to "Washington," meaning Washington on the Brazos to me. Silly me, I didn't know the existing town is called Washington. You live and learn.
We checked a map in the car and discovered that WOTB wasn't far away, so we decided to buzz over and check it out. We programmed Lisa, who once again redeemed herself for Friday's miscues. (I did forget to mention that she tried to lead us astray in Bryan on our way back to the hotel, but we outsmarted her. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, and I buy a new GPS.)
As we neared the state park, we saw farmers sitting in their fields next to signs offering parking for $5. Why in the world would anyone want to park in their fields? Was something going on? Yep. Seems the park was having a 175th anniversary celebration of the declaration of Texas Independence. We turned into the entrance only to find we were about to join hundreds and hundreds of other visitors.
Guardsmen were on hand to direct traffic, and we were shuttled to an empty field way in the back of the park. But we didn't have to pay five bucks. And because it was a celebration, everything was free. No park admission, not other fees. Huzzah.
Historical re-enactors were scattered about the park grounds, doing demonstrations on just about anything you could imagine. Some demos we've seen previously in other museums and parks. One we hadn't seen was for rope making. The demonstrator invited children to run the hand-cranked apparatus and make 4 to 5 foot lengths of rope they were allowed to keep. That explained why we saw so many kids wandering about with rope.
A crowd had gathered at the replica Independence Hall to witness a re-enactment of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Only problem was that so many folks had crammed into the hall that the "delegates" couldn't get in. I skipped out.
Picked up a couple of interesting tidbits in the visitor center. Seems Anson Jones' life went a bit downhill after the glory days of Texas independence, and he ended up committing suicide. Somehow I missed that story in Texas history class. Ah, well.
The other bit of trivia explained that Tejanos were native born residents -- usually of Mexican or Spanish descent -- while Texians or Texicans were immigrants. You can insert your own undocumented worker comment here.
Jones' home has been moved to a section of the park called Barrington Farm, and functions as a living history center, with demonstrations all the time. We walked and walked until we just couldn't walk any more. With sore feet and achy backs we trekked to our car in the back 40 and gratefully headed for the hotel.
The junior soldiers were gone, and we took time to recover before dinner at McAlister's Deli -- like Jason's, only better. For fun we walked the mall, though there wasn't much to see, except for a couple of really interesting outfits on some teens. Though now I think about it, I don't remember them well enough to describe. Oh, well.
A stop at Starbuck for tea and desert topped off the night, and we retired, tired but happy.
Tomorrow we head back to Calvert, the town that's almost entirely a national historical site.
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