Our nearest such resort is Galveston, down on the Gulf of Mexico and a scant hour from downtown Houston. Hannah's been wanting to go for a while, and it managed to escape the onslaught of Hurricane Harvey, so off we went.
What sets Galveston slightly apart is that it's a working port, with cruise ships coming and going, and plenty of terminals for loading tankers. There are also many oil rigs tied up, waiting for the price-per-barrel to rise.
Also, they have dolphins!
We booked ourselves onto a little cruise, one which promised the appearance of marine mammals, one I naturally assumed would take us into the open ocean to find them. But no! The dolphins like to hang around the harbour, and such was their friendly proximity we could probably have enjoyed a similar display sitting on a jetty. You could hear them clicking and squeaking, but they didn't do any tricks, being extremely protected. "Imagine telling your cellmates that you're in prison for feeding dolphins," our captain told us with dark amusement.
The port is on the landward side of Galveston island; on the other is a beach along the Gulf. It doesn't get the best reviews, but you have to remember that Weston-super-Mare was my nearest childhood resort. Hannah and Pete had a lovely swim, in temperatures she described as 'bath water', while a few working rigs perforated the horizon. The only things missing were candyfloss and donkey - or, indeed, dolphin - rides. Maybe a business opportunity...
"It's the most beautiful view I've ever had at lunch!" commented Hannah.
Dolphin hunting. Not that sort of hunting.
A dolphin!
And some more! Which is the more intelligent species, the dolphins or the schmucks who pay to see them?
First steps on a long and illustrious naval career.
Jumping in the bow wave of a tug. Dolphins: easily pleased.
What's wrong with this sandy beach? Nothing.
