The Art of Escape: Hotel Galvez
Hotel Galvez, a TroysArt photo Galveston is a short drive from Houston—in less than an hour a city weary soul can be transported to another realm. Sadly, because of its brown water and toothless underbelly, not many people I know share my enthusiasm for the convenient island retreat. A few days back I made one of my regular trips. When I stepped out of my car at the Galvez’s valet stand a pungent stench affronted my nostrils—like being slapped in the face with a spoiled trout. One look at the beaches and the reason is obvious. Galveston is experiencing one of the worst red seaweed invasions that anyone can recall. Mountains of the horrific Sargassum line the beaches ...