The Last Day: Inside the butterfly house
And now the final day.
And day of travelling.
And waiting.
And the question of how to fill the day. I mean, the flight was at eight, so that gave us 10 hours to fill, even if we left the hotel at ten. I believe we had seen most of what Houston had to offer, apart from the endless supply of steak restaurants, of course.
We were awake at six, as usual. But then laid in bed for an hour, just enjoying the peace and not doing anything.
We get up, check the news and after coffee start packing. It all went in there, it'll all go back. We say.
And it does.
At half nine we were done, one last trawl round the room and we leave.
They will debit my credit card they tell me, smiling.
We get the car from the valet. They will also invoice us by mail.
More smiles.
We load the car and decide to go to Walmart from beans.
Beans.
Boston beans.
The sat nav takes us 5 miles to the supercenter.
We wander round, find the beans aisle. No Boston beans, but there were others. We also buy hot sauce. And spices.
On the other side of the car park there was a cafe, so we walk there. Not drive.
Breakfast is proper cooked breakfast.
And pecan pie. I would like to partake in a piece of your pecan pie. I said.
They gave me a piece.
We go to the natural history museum.
I like a good museum. I do. But we are here just to walk through the butterfly house. Because we like butterflies.
We pay for tickets, and go straight for the butterflies. It is magical, as always, to have tropical butterflies and try to feed on your t shirt. Or is it just me?
The museum is also great, but lots of stuffed animals. I means lots. As Jools said, soon this sort of place will be all where you can see tigers and other rare animals.
We look through a display of minerals. Then jewels.
The Faberge collection is stunning. But we are just using up our time.
We get bored, so leave. And take the car on the half hour drive to the airport. It was two in the afternoon.
Jools wanted to look for some books, so we stop off at a barnes and Noble. I buy books. Jools doesn't.
Round the corner is a place to eat. Others have not yet opned or have private parties on. So, we walk the half block to The Backstreet Cafe. Walk, I tell you.
The Last Day: Inside the butterfly house
And now the final day.
And day of travelling.
And waiting.
And the question of how to fill the day. I mean, the flight was at eight, so that gave us 10 hours to fill, even if we left the hotel at ten. I believe we had seen most of what Houston had to offer, apart from the endless supply of steak restaurants, of course.
We were awake at six, as usual. But then laid in bed for an hour, just enjoying the peace and not doing anything.
We get up, check the news and after coffee start packing. It all went in there, it'll all go back. We say.
And it does.
At half nine we were done, one last trawl round the room and we leave.
They will debit my credit card they tell me, smiling.
We get the car from the valet. They will also invoice us by mail.
More smiles.
We load the car and decide to go to Walmart from beans.
Beans.
Boston beans.
The sat nav takes us 5 miles to the supercenter.
We wander round, find the beans aisle. No Boston beans, but there were others. We also buy hot sauce. And spices.
On the other side of the car park there was a cafe, so we walk there. Not drive.
Breakfast is proper cooked breakfast.
And pecan pie. I would like to partake in a piece of your pecan pie. I said.
They gave me a piece.
We go to the natural history museum.
I like a good museum. I do. But we are here just to walk through the butterfly house. Because we like butterflies.
We pay for tickets, and go straight for the butterflies. It is magical, as always, to have tropical butterflies and try to feed on your t shirt. Or is it just me?
The museum is also great, but lots of stuffed animals. I means lots. As Jools said, soon this sort of place will be all where you can see tigers and other rare animals.
We look through a display of minerals. Then jewels.
The Faberge collection is stunning. But we are just using up our time.
We get bored, so leave. And take the car on the half hour drive to the airport. It was two in the afternoon.
Jools wanted to look for some books, so we stop off at a barnes and Noble. I buy books. Jools doesn't.
Round the corner is a place to eat. Others have not yet opned or have private parties on. So, we walk the half block to The Backstreet Cafe. Walk, I tell you.