We bounced along with the crowd. More people than I've ever witnessed in the Jardin. When our wave of humanity merged with the flow circling the plaza, we slowed to a crawl, like syrup flowing onto hotcakes. Passing food stands, you could identify the numerous smells. Sweet aromas mixed with smokey meat, popcorn, and of course churros. We moved inch by inch until we caught an eddy behind a baby stroller. The pause allowed me to glimpse ahead. A smile came to my lips. There is an advantage to standing over 6' 2", in a world of locals, all standing around 5' 7". Our next surge would pull us to the churro man, a place that would, on a normal night, allow us to survey the Jardin, grab a deep-fried goody stick, and relax. Tonight this would not be happening. The crowd was too big, too many people.
We split from the human current and crossed at the intersection. Before us was a new obstacle, horses and riders! We entered a new world with new music, a slower-paced current, and the smells of horses. It was an intriguing combination. We moved to an empty spot by a hat vendor. Before us stood 25 to 30 horses and riders. All gathered, facing west. We watched as each rider worked their mount obediently into position. The horses were focused and calm. Farther along the street, a seven-piece brass band blared classical mariachi music as loud as they could play. The sounds were deafening. The horses remained calm, almost relaxed.
The cowboys, one at a time, prompted their amazing companions into the center of the street, literally inches from the blaring instruments. Then they danced. The horses lifted their hooves, clanging their horseshoes on the cobblestone street. One after another, sometimes three at a time paraded up and back, in front of the throngs of onlookers.
Linda, Beth, and I stood in amazement at how casually the horses entered the fray and performed. Big horses to small ponies promenaded the area, beautifully groomed in ornate tack. Riders in their finest; they all danced.
We watched for almost an hour. The crowds were growing larger. We had witnessed enough of the madness so, we walked home. It would be a loud night. We had no desire to be caught up in the fireworks frenzy. Been there, done that.
Before The Rodeo
Years ago we had a blog post that explained all about the days leading up to the St. Patrick celebration in San Patricio. St. Patrick is the patron saint of this town, and the celebration brings both locals and tourists into this area for a nine-day celebration. We have attended the celebration enough that we know better, and avoid the crowds by staying home. This year we went to the event so that Beth could see just what we mean when we say, "It's hard to explain!" Below are some photos and a video that shows some of the excitement that happens every night during this celebration.
Photo by Claudette Daigle I stole it from her FB page.
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