March 27th. The weekend we set out for Austin in search of pure, unadulterated rest and relaxation. We wanted slow paces, sunset views, and a temporary escape from reality. Instead, we got a lesson in Texas history courtesy of a British pop icon, and a lesson in biology courtesy of several hundred bats.
Part I: The Airborne Welcome Wagon
Here is the thing about Austin: they tell you to “Keep Austin Weird,” but they don’t warn you that the weirdness is airborne. We booked a sunset river cruise to see the famous Mexican free-tailed bats emerge from under the Congress Avenue Bridge. It sounds incredibly romantic, right? Drifting on the water, the sky turning a bruised Texas purple, nature putting on a spectacular show.
It was amazing. Right up until the moment the sky literally opened up, and the colony decided to collectively relieve themselves. Yes. We got peed on by bats. LOL!
Forget ‘whispering luxury’—nothing says romance quite like a microscopic shower of mammal urine at dusk.
Part II: The Ultimate Genesis of Texas History
Once we washed off the glamour of the local wildlife, we took a little detour down the highway to San Antonio to visit the Alamo. Because nothing screams a relaxing weekend quite like checking in on the site of America’s most stressful historical siege. But the real plot twist was waiting inside the museum.
As it turns out, an astonishing number of artifacts, weapons, and historical assets in the Alamo collection were donated by… Phil Collins. Yes. THE Phil Collins.
The man who defined 80s soft rock is apparently the world’s most obsessive collector of Texan revolutionary history. I spent half the time looking at bowie knives and the other half wondering if he felt the defense of the compound coming in the air tonight. Honestly, finding out Tarzan’s composer is the shadow benefactor of San Antonio was the exact kind of surreal absurdity this trip needed.
You go to Texas for the cowboys, but you stay because the drummer from Genesis bought all their knives.
The Verdict
In the end, it wasn’t the quiet, perfectly curated R&R we planned, but it was real, it was hilarious, and we survived it. Bat fluids and British rock history included.