VINTAGE TOURS: ALAMO CITY GUITAR BAZAAR

Our vintage buyers have been on an absolute tear, blazing across the great wide open with saddlebags full of cash and some of the finest gear we’ve ever seen in tow. But that doesn’t stop them from being hungry for more.

We sent word that there was fittin’ to be a sale down San Antone way. That being Texas, we thought they could use some extra muscle. Midwest muscle. So we made arrangements, while our buyers set their spurs on the Alamo City for to see about the second annual Guitar Bazaar, where their Hemi-loaded Dodge Challenger would be waiting.

San Antonio has all the makings of a place where one could settle down. The cool breezes, Spanish-style stucco, and freshwaters rivers had our newly arrived buyers feeling like homesteading. Much like Venice, waterways meander through the city, and the adjoining promenades below street level make this former home of outlaws and bandidos feel surreally continental, and more like a theme park than anything deep in the heart of Texas. 

But Texas it was, and our buyers weren’t there for no stroll.

Much to their disappointment, the Venue Villita, where the Bazaar would be held, is two minutes from their hotel, so that Hemi sat parked while the posse made their way on foot.

The humbly named Villita, or “little village,” looked more like a spaceship than a quaint hamlet. The perfectly round, Brutalist structure was lit throughout in bright, white light as if our buyers had all been abducted by aliens disguised as vintage guitar dealers, and the secluded Alamo riverwalks had been a dream after all.

The guitars our buyers encountered were equally out of this world, and they were all too happy to make contact with a pair of Musicvox Space Rangers, a guitar and a bass, an Aquaburst Flying V, and a trio of Gibson LP Custom electric guitars, including an all-maple model with complete original paperwork.

Our buyers made a memorable stand at the Alamo City Guitar Bazaar, rustling up about 30 pieces in all (31 if you count the cat they found in a tree afterward).

We’ll certainly won’t forget the Alamo. We suspect we’ll be back one day, enjoying another walk, sampling more of the best Mexican in the country, maybe laying claim to a tract, and emptying our saddlebags as we make a stand at the city’s 3rd annual mass abduction.