I haven’t been in Texas for a few years, since I flew into Oklahoma City and took Amtrak to Dallas/Fort Worth, and then across West Texas and the southwest. But I’ve never been to Houston before.
It’s large. Our fourth largest city, behind New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago. After Houston comes Philadelphia.
It’s sprawling. It’s a city of 2.3 million people, none of whom really seem to live near one another. It feels like so much of Florida—hot and humid with yawning highways and lots of parking lots.
It’s old, but doesn’t seem like it. I probably just missed its historic sections, but even staying downtown at the Club Quarters hotel and after running five miles through parts of the downtown, I didn’t see much that looked historic.
It’s friendly. To a startling degree, people are friendly here. This shouldn’t be too surprising since “Southern Hospitality” glowed in neon on the wall of a bar I visited, but it’s still different from Philadelphia.
It’s a place I’d come back to, but would take a lot of mental adjustment to settle in.