Postcard Walks and Pixel Bricks

Today, during two quick breaks, I escaped my hotel room, ditched the computer, and slipped away from online training for a bit of sanity. Just a short loop around a few city blocks—but in San Antonio, even a little detour is its own story.

This city is loaded with texture. I’m talking architectural texture, historical texture, emotional texture. The kind of place where old brick meets limestone, where cast-iron balconies lean over the street, and nothing is smooth or simple—and thank God for that. It makes an old nerd like me weirdly happy.

A Post Office with Personality

Take the post office. On paper, it’s just the nearest place to buy stamps, but it’s got this solid, Depression-era look to it—thick walls, heavy doors, brass details. It feels like it was built to last through anything, even though it apparently can’t handle staying open past 3:30 without a lunch break.

Yes, they close for lunch at 3:30. I stood outside blinking at the security guard like I was in a time warp. But still, there’s something about the place. It feels real. Honest. Like it knows its job and isn’t trying to be cute about it.

Ghosts, Germans, and Gorgeous Stonework

A few blocks away, I stumbled on a building that made me stop in my tracks: the Turn Verein. It sounds like a secret society, but it’s actually a German athletic association that dates back to the 1800s. The building is all carved stone, with deep windows and subtle, elegant lines. You’d miss it if you weren’t paying attention—which, again, is the thing. I wonder how many people walk past these places every day and don’t even glance up. But if you do? If you let your eyes roam a little? This city is full of ghosts and craftsmanship. Its in a bit of despair but it almost make it more charming. Like its one movie montage from shining again

And speaking of ghosts—let’s talk about the Emily Morgan Hotel. She’s a beauty. She sits right next to the Alamo, towering in that glorious, Gothic-revival way that makes you want to stand still and crane your neck. Built in 1924 as a medical arts building, it was full of doctors' offices—and, depending who you ask, maybe a psych ward or a morgue in the basement.

Naturally, it’s now one of the most haunted hotels in the country.

I didn’t go in (yet), but I walked slow by those doors. You can feel the stories pressing against the glass. Jamie says she wished we had stayed here because our hotel is only slightly haunted and this one is super haunted . I say I’d do it just for the writing material.

Historic Charm Meets Margarita Blender

Now, all this wonder comes with a bit of a twist. You’re soaking in old-world charm—Spanish colonial arches, mission-style courtyards, wrought-iron gates—and then suddenly, out of nowhere: a Rainforest Café. Or a Margaritaville. Or a neon-drenched Dave & Buster’s sitting right next to a 300-year-old chapel.

It’s jarring. Like someone dropped a strip mall into a sepia-toned postcard. You half expect the cannon on display to start spinning like a prize wheel..

Why I Still Send Postcards

Here’s the good news: I found postcards. Cheap ones, too.

That might not matter to everybody, but I still love sending postcards—little paper echoes of where you were and what you saw. I got one in the mail myself the other day and I was grinning like an idiot. A text evaporates, but a postcard? That sticks. You keep it on the fridge. It becomes part of the scenery. It’s a handshake in your mailbox.

Minecraft, Texture, and Why I Stop

Somewhere between the post office and a shady bench, I saw this fully functional adult going about his day, and for some reason, it threw me back to Minecraft.

When the kids first got into it, I got hooked. At first, I was just their miner. They’d send minecarts down with pickaxes, torches, and the occasional cooked meat, and I’d send back raw materials like some kind of pixelated coal troll. But then I realized the joy wasn’t in the digging—it was in the building. In the contrast. In the textures.

That same part of my brain lights up when I see a cracked archway or faded signage on a brick wall.

Same thing happened at Universal Studios. I geeked out more over the art deco trim and the paintwork on the fake storefronts than I did the actual rides.

Texture, man. Layers. Craftsmanship. That’s the stuff that makes me stop and stare.

What Most People Walk Past

San Antonio is full of it. You just have to let yourself see it. Old buildings whispering, “Look at me. I’m still here.” That brings me joy. And a bit of sadness too—because I know most people don’t stop. They walk by with earbuds in, GPS on, thinking more about tacos than turnbuckles.

For now, this post is just about a short loop near the hotel. A few photos, a few details, a walk to get stamps. I'm no expert photographer, but I try to catch what catches me. I hope you see what I saw.

And no—I’m not talking about the River Walk yet. 

That deserves its own post. Trust me.

Such an amazing photographer. I got my own finger in the picture

Dig the Textures

The atrium in our hotels lobby