Time to move on. We got up early and packed our bags for the drive to New Orleans. First, we stopped for breakfast at T. Coon’s, which was up the road from our hotel. It was full of local people, so we knew this had to be good. The waitress brought one of those tall containers of coffee to the table. I don’t mean a small pot. It would easily serve maybe 10 people. The coffee was called Mello Joy Cajun Coffee. The name alone was great.
Rich and I decided to overdose on the crawfish and ordered the crawfish omelets. I had grits while he got oatmeal. It was wonderful and so much food. Rick played it safe with a bacon omelet. Later, we agreed that he did the right thing.
With breakfast done, it was time to join the race back up to I-10. Today, the racers weren’t driving that fast, but they were still going a pretty good clip. It might have been all of the police cars we saw along the way. I bet the entire department was out in force. We made up to the highway and back on our way east.
Rich wanted to stop in the Atchafalaya Welcome Center. Atchafalaya Basin is the largest swamp in the U.S. I-10 runs over it and most of the highway there is on stilts out of the water and mud. We pulled off the highway and into the visitor center. That first step off the highway was a doozey though. I slowed enough not to bottom out the Subie. Apparently, a car on the side of the road there wasn’t so lucky.
First stop at the center was to the bathroom. Unfortunately, the ladies room was being cleaned. I got directed to a bathroom in the center, but I heard that someone had been directed there already and it was a single stall. I went in and stood around by the door. I could hear the occupant finishing up, but then she started clearing her throat and making awful noises. Then she started brushing her teeth and spitting a lot. After 10 minutes, I started knocking on the door. She continued to brush her teeth and make more noises. By this time, I was dancing all over the place. I knocked yet again. The lady finally came out, but I couldn’t be nice because I had to run to pee!
After relief, I joined guys to look through the displays about the swamp, the wildlife and environment in the area. I wanted to go to the water if I could. The person at the desk said the only way to do this would be to go to the boat ramp. Otherwise, I would have to do a swamp tour with one of the guides in the area. We had no time for this, so the boat ramp it was.
We went out to the car and drove from one driveway to another to reach the ramp. It was cool that ramp was actually between the east and west lanes of I-10. The water was just an inlet that ran in from the swamp. We couldn’t really see anything of the cypress trees and critters out there. We were able to get some cool pictures of the pillars holding up the highway above us and the pool of water under the lanes.
Time to hit the road again for NOLA. A few miles down the road, it was time to find the bathroom again. Coffee has a way of just running through you, especially when you are just sitting around. I pulled off the highway at an exit that advertised gas stations and a McD’s. At the bottom of the ramp, the signs stated that everything was 7 miles south! If I were smart, I would have gotten back on the highway.
My thinking was that everything was going to be off the highway here. We went out a ways before I gave up and turned east again. We traveled the smaller highway to a McD’s where we could take care of business and Rich could tank up again on caffeine. Heading east, we followed the road until we could get back out to I-10. It wasn’t too far out of the way and I tell myself that we took a side excursion into real-life Louisiana.
I-10 was leading us closer to New Orleans. It was dropping a little further south all the time. We finally came to Lake Ponchartrain, which seemed to spread out like the ocean. It was huge! The road was elevated and pretty far above the water. We eventually made it to dry land and continued to NOLA.
After a while, we could see the SuperDome in front of us. This was a sure sign that we had made it into the downtown area. Now to find the French Quarter. The Navi said only 2 miles ahead and to exist at Orleans. We did this only to be dumped into the middle of road construction. We followed the Navi directions to what should have been our street, but it was a blind alley. From here, we turned and went back the way we came in. Improvising meant turning right where possible and hitting another street. This street was also under construction, but at least you could drive on it.
We went through the French Quarter and back out again so that we could drop a little further south. From here, we could drive back into the Quarter and get to the street where our hotel was. The directions were confusing and the streets were very narrow. I managed to get down to Iberville St and to the Courtyard. The entrance to the garage was very welcoming. Glen, the valet, greeted us with a warm smile and helped us unload. I’d be leaving the driving to him until we left again.
Our luggage was loaded onto a cart and stowed in the baggage holding area since our room wasn’t ready yet. We went up to register and check in. Since we were hungry and it was late, lunch seemed in order. We got directions to a couple of locations to try and set off again. Glen was manning the valet desk as we passed by and wished us well on our journey on foot.
Out in the street, it felt like chaos. There were noises, traffic and a lot of people. A couple of blocks south, we found the Acme Oyster House and Felix’s Seafood House. Because Alex, my brother-in-law, suggested that we go to Acme, that’s where we headed. We had to wait in line, but it was only for about 5 minutes. The hostess came out to get names. I told her Joy, but she wrote down Julie. Rich happened to see that and told me. I went back to her and explained. She started to write Joy, but I changed it to Sharkey. She laughed and said she loved it.
It’s actually an old trick from working on the road. When we went somewhere, we gave Sharkey as the name. It was hard to tell when they would yell out names who they wanted. Sharkey is easy it hear and different than a regular name. You can tell the difference when they call you.
We got seated at the bar. The bartender took our drink orders for two Abita Amber Ales and one Purple Haze ale. Rich ordered raw oysters to start. Only Rick and I were eating them. Rick has no interest in them raw. Like I told him, you take a bite, chew once, and then slam it down with a drink of beer. It’s the best. Rich ordered chicken and sausage gumbo while Rick got the jambalaya. I had a shrimp po’boy. After another round of beers, we were ready to get started. While waiting for the beer, the hotel called to say our room was ready.
We walked back to get our luggage and settle into our room for a quick rest. It felt good to have a comfy place to rest. That didn’t last long though. After saying hey to Glen again, we made our way to Bourbon Street. It’s really seedy and a lot of unwelcomed shops and fronts along the way. I could see where the music would be good, but the strip clubs and things were just too much for me.
We got to St. Peter’s Street and headed to the river. We figured we could check out the mighty Mississippi from this angle. The wind was really cold and biting. It was mid 70s, but the rain was feeling like it would start at any time. We got back across the trolley tracks and through the panhandlers to find Café du Monde. This is little place recommended for beignets and café. It was a nice pick-me-up.
By the time we had gotten to Jackson Square, the rain was starting to come down. We dashed to St. Peter’s Street to find shelter under one of the spreading Southern oaks. Of course, we didn’t want to chance that lightening was following this storm. We continued one down the street under the cover of overhangs on the sidewalks.
Since we were looking to get in from the rain, we figured we might as well go on to Pat O’Brien’s. In the door, Rick got carded. The gentleman looked us over and said we posed no threat to the establishment. Since the rain had stopped, we asked to be seated in the courtyard. We got a table under one of the umbrellas in case the rain came back. Rich and Rick got Hurricanes. I got a daiquiri. I just couldn’t do a tall glass of alcohol. Rick pointed out that Rich’s Hurricane had something in it. Rich spun the glass around shouting, “Spit it out, you bastard,” in a Scottish accent.
We had a good time talking as the guys were trying to slowly make their way through the drink. It is an experience to get through it without feeling too lightheaded. In the meantime, we were being dive bombed by sparrows chasing each other. One sparrow barely missed my head as he was trying to take a cherry away from the others and flew right at me on his way out. The fountain by our table was periodically spraying us as the wind would blow through.
Drinks were done and it was time to leave. We got our souvenir glasses wrapped up to go at the front door. Meandering down Bourbon Street, we could see all kinds of things happening. The music was starting to come out of the different bars. There were a lot of college age kids and really old people. It was a different mix. There were girls who appeared to have come from some of the strip clubs hanging out in the street. People were stopping on the sidewalk or just walking slow. Travel times were going up for us.
I can’t say that I really cared much for Bourbon Street. The things I don’t like were many. The things I didn’t mind weren’t too much. This was definitely not one place where I would think about spending too much time. But then, I had plans and places to be for some of the time we had in New Orleans. Rich was right that a couple of days would be enough.
After resting up and detoxing (Rick’s words), we decided to head out for dinner. Alex had recommended Napoleon House for dinner. We headed south toward the lake and missed our turn onto Chartres St. One more block was Decatur. We turned left and headed to St. Louis. Another turn left brought us around again and up the block to our destination. It was a very cool location. On Alex’s suggestion, we asked to sit in the atrium. The center was open to the sky, but the tables were around the walls and under a roof.
Our waiter, Paul, introduced us to the Pimm’s Cup, which was really delicious. Rick had a Pimm’s Mint Julep to go with his alligator po’boy. Rich had the I wasn’t that hungry so I went for the pate and sausage platter, which was excellent.
Dinner being over, we wondered back the way we came to stop by a couple of clubs where we had heard music. The Jazz Club was quiet now. Big Mama’s Blues Lounge at House of Blues was having open mic night. This could be interesting. Janet Burgan was on stage doing folk. The next guy up was from Milwaukee and had come down to film a video of his time at the mic. The next guy was pretty depressing and so were his lyrics. The next performer apparently plays in one of the lounges at the House of Blues and was honing his skills here. That’s about all I could take and we headed back to the hotel.
We walked by Bourbon Street, which was blocked off and seemed to be ramping up for a good time. Glen was still on duty and waved us on through. I stopped in at the desk to ask some questions. The people around the hotel here were so friendly and answered your questions with such big smiles. Maybe they know something I don’t. I was behind a man and his son who needed toothbrushes. The lady behind the desk was chiding the son for letting his father forget them at home. The boy turned to his dad and said, “Yeah.”
Good thing that I learned: A Cajun is someone who is non-Acadian that marries an Acadian. So I guess we are all Cajun wanna-bes.
Needless to say, the day was pretty great. We ate, drank, ate some more, drank some more, and walked around and around. Another great day in the vacation of the Zurek family.
