Old People 12
Despite the rigors of yesterday’s outing Mazie and Janice were up early and ready to to. It was 8:00 AM. It was hot as they sat under the giant oak, Old Senator, and waited for the Red Train.
“Glad we’re getting started early, “ Mazie said. “ It’s gonna be a hot one.”
Janice laughed “Know what you sound like?” Mazie shrugged. “Like some old southerner on his porch on a hot summer day. ‘It’s gonna be a hot one’. Like Barney Fife and Andy Taylor.”
The Red Train arrived.
First stop. Gonzalez-Alvarez, the oldest house of the Spanish colonial period. The original was built in the 1500s. The one standing now was rebuilt in 1702 after a fire destroyed the original. It does represent the look of the time and period. “It’s amazing,” Janice said, “how much of the niceties these houses of wealth had, even in those times.”
“Still, “ Mazie said. “I suspect they might have liked air conditioning.”
Next stop the old Jail dating back to 1891. It was, they were told, a first class jail when compared to some of those in other parts of the continent.
Then down San Marco Avenue to the old fort. The ladies sat on a bench outside a cafe looking up at the Fort Entrance.
The heat had become oppressive; moisture hung in the air. Finally they began the long walk to the Fort entrance. With what seemed a sudden event dark clouds rolled in over the hill on which the fort sat. The wind increased and with threatening speed and force sent a driving rain horizontally. No hope for shelter. Fighting the wind and suffering the rain they made their way back to San Marco Avenue and waited for the train, which was filled to capacity. The only seats available were just behind the diver open to the elements.
Dripping cloths, soggy shoes, weary spirits. They entered their motel room. So much for St Augustine. They were leaving tomorrow.
