After the wedding festivities were over, Jordan and I left a mess in our apartment and headed South. First stop, Fredericksburg, Texas. On my aunt's recommendation, we decided to look into a bed and breakfast in this little town deep in the heart of Texas. (And I'm not just saying that. We really did drive through the heart of Texas.)
It was actually the perfect place to stay, and we had a lot of fun. Our two days in Fredericksburg actually ended up being our favorite of the week. First, though, we had to gas up.
My GPS took us down back roads for the entire seven-hour drive, and the view was fabulous. Texas hill country is just spectacular, and if you haven't seen it, you're missing out. However, the downside of the ridiculously beautiful view is the lack of proper civilization. Which means lack of proper fast-food restaurants. Which, due to lack of proper planning, means two hungry honeymooners.
And you really don't want to be around Jordan when he's hungry. It's as if a switch has been turned on, and my only goal is to not say anything that might enrage him. This is hard when you fear you might be lost in The Middle of Nowhere, Texas. (read: I am a semi-annoying backseat driver, especially when Jordan is driving my car.) We kept waiting to see something, anything, that would give us food. But apparently all the towns in South Texas are full of boarded up restaurants and banks. No food. Where do all the people eat? Maybe that's why we also didn't see any people--they'd eaten each other.
With that happy thought, we became more and more grouchy. The first sight of food came at 2:00ish, which might not seem all that bad unless you consider the fact that in our haste to drop off our marriage license and get on the road, we'd forgotten to eat breakfast.
"STOP!" I yelled.
But Jordan had already driven past.
I made him turn around, rambling something about a deli and sandwiches and food, claiming that I'd eat anything at this point. (Important note: I would die before I ate Chicken Express.) We ended up buying some fried chicken from the deli, and it was the freaking best chicken I'd ever eaten. I devoured a leg in under a minute, while Jordan feverishly stuffed fries into his mouth.
When we'd collected ourselves long enough to stop drooling, we headed back down the road. We turned the corner maybe a quarter of a mile from the grocery store and groaned. They were in a cluster, mocking us--Sonic, Dairy Queen, and McDonald's.
"Whatefer," I said around a mouthful of biscuit.
So we continued on our merry way.
At one point while I was trying to sleep, Jordan's keen eye caught a sign. How he noticed it and was able to read it while driving at over sixty miles an hour is beyond me.
"I think we just passed a historical marker."
"Oh yeah? What was it?"
"Not exactly sure," he said. "Something about the center of Texas. Wanna go back?"
Never one to turn down a photo op, of course I said yes.Sure enough, just over halfway through our journey we hit the geographic center of Texas. I told you; we were deep in the heart of Texas.
After that, we stopped for gas once, but other than that it was smooth sailing. We basically saw no cars, people, restaurants (except for that one small cluster), and it was a relaxing, beautiful drive. We (really just I) did get a bit worried near the end, because the GPS said we were supposed to be there at 5:22, and it was 5:20, and I didn't see any semblance of a town.
I was hoping our GPS hadn't been hacked by a serial killer who was leading us into a trap. Then I realized I was being dramatic and needed to calm down. I told myself that I had a husband who would gladly attack said serial killer should it come to that.
By the time I was finished thinking about serial killers and husbands (read: NOT serial killer husbands), it was 5:22, and a cute, bustling town was upon us. (Side note: When we pulled into town, I exclaimed, "What a cute, bubbling town!" Jordan said, "Don't you mean bustling?" Yes, I do. I'm an idiot. The chicken went straight to my head.)
We were supposed to pick up the key to our little cottage from the reservations desk by 5:30, and we rolled in there at exactly 5:26. We paid the rest of our balance, got our keys, picked up a map, and headed for the final destination: The Chardonnay Hideaway. (Honeymoon requirement for B&B: Cheesy name? Check.)