A Walk Down the Streets of Galveston

When we first began our Galveston adventure and moved into our temporary home on Avenue S, I sat down with my phone and Google Maps to see what was close to us.  Shrimp ‘N Stuff on Avenue 0 flashed neon lights, not really, but it has been a haunt for many, many years, and we always visit at least once. Google told me we could walk there in thirteen minutes from where we were staying. I thought we would walk and eat there often.

Well, it has taken us over a month to point our noses in the direction of Shrimp ‘N Stuff—some other siren always seems to lure us in another direction—but today, we walk west on Avenue S and turn right on Jack Johnson Boulevard. It is a perfect sunny blue day with no wind. In February, that is a very good thing—it isn’t always so. We pass by Galveston College and further on we stop to admire Queen Elizabeth II staring down at us from a second-story window in a house that is bluer than today’s sky.

“I always wanted to live in a town like this,” I tell Michael, “Somewhere you can walk everywhere.”

Honestly, this is THE perfect town. The only thing it is missing is immediate access to country roads and hills, and streams. But it has everything else—all of the things we both love. Multiple museums. More restaurants than I can count. The ocean. Parks. Nature preserves. Sun and sand and surf. Harbors. Ships and sea. And HISTORY. And more.

Shrimp ‘N Stuff

We continue our forward motion until we reach Ball High School and follow groups of students as they make their way home, walking east on Avenue O. Michael turns to me and says, “I sure hope they don’t like seafood as an after-school snack. There won’t be any room for us at Shrimp ‘N Stuff!”

He needn’t have worried. Fifteen minutes after our walk began, we walk through the doors of this long-remembered restaurant. There is no one in line at the window where you order, and barely a handful of people are at the inside tables eating.

I tell Michael what I want for my late lunch—a combination dinner of catfish and shrimp—and then make my way outside and look for a suitable table. In the sun. Away from any errant breeze. A table of six fits the bill. I feel a bit guilty about my choice, but since the restaurant is virtually empty at this late hour for lunch and early hour for dinner, I stake my claim to the space.

Shrimp ‘N Stuff’s Seafood Dinner

Michael walks through the glass doors with a large plastic cup of water in each hand. He hands me one and we sit. Waiting. Sooner than I expected, a buzzer flashes and whirs; Michael responds to the call of the kitchen and returns with a single beer and two plates piled high with fried seafood. Apparently what I imagined and what is, are two very different things! I will never be able to eat all of this food! When I ordered catfish, I thought I would get two thin pieces of fish—not two giant filets, each one as big as two hands! And then, Michael places a single oyster atop everything else.

I woefully announce, “But I can’t eat everything that is already on my plate.”

The fish is good—maybe great. Crispy breading and a moist interior—the way fish and shrimp should be. NOT overcooked. Michael declares this is the best-fried fish on the island—and he should know. If a restaurant serves seafood and they don’t have stuffed flounder, he orders fish and chips, and if they don’t have his preferred type of fish he chooses oysters or shrimp or both.

He says, “We have to come back before we leave.” And I think—we have a lot of coming back to do and new places to try with barely three weeks left.  We’re going to be busy.

A Trip to Galveston’s Ship Channel

Before we settle in for the evening, once night falls and it nears the time for the 2^nd day of the full moon to rise in the black night sky, we get in the car and head east toward the ship channel.

We have just missed the moment that it rises from the sea, but I see it glow in the eastern sky, streaked with a long thin cloud. I groan—there is cloud cover above—foiled once again.

Michael continues to push east, turning right on the tired rutted road that will take us to the empty, sandy beach that we sit on many days watching the ships and the world go by—always in the company of too many cars.  On this dark, cold, misty night, there is no one here—but us.

The moon is visible—still streaked with clouds—even higher in the sky. I point my camera through the windshield at its brilliance, and the photo I take is a big misty mess. Forced to exit the warmth of the car, I try again—this time with success. Sitting here, we gaze at the black water, the dark sky, the brightly lit ships that lay at rest on the other side of the channel, and the few that make their way toward the foreign (to them) port of Galveston—perhaps Houston.

When finally we turn to leave, I look at my moon shot more closely—it is hauntingly beautiful—a lucky accident.

A Movie and a Glass of Bailey’s

Once we are settled in our temporary abode, Michael chooses a movie recommended by a friend—84 Charing Cross Road. Released in 1987, it is a funny, poignant story about the woman who wrote a book of the same name, starring Ann Bancroft and Anthony Hopkins.  How could it be anything but wonderful? When the credits roll, tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks. I’m a sucker for old-fashioned, well-told stories.

Michael cheers me up with a martini glass filled with Bailey’s Irish Cream. I forgot how delicious it is—it’s been years since I indulged.

It has been a pretty much perfect day in Galveston. A walk. Delicious food at Shrimp ‘N Stuff. The full moon. A movie. And Bailey’s!

Carpe Diem – a day full of simple pleasures!

To learn more about Shrimp ‘N Stuff, click on the following link:

https://www.charlottestexashillcountry.com/shrimp-n-stuff/