A Hostile Environment

During the night an unwelcomed cold front had set in and in Houston where it was 70 degrees the night before, now it was pushing 40 degrees. Though our northern counterparts in Chicago and Detroit fared far worse, it was still a cold blow against our plans to meet the warm southern sun. When we walked out of the house we were cooly greeted by this unpleasant weather and understood instantly that we were underdressed. Once in the van, we again donned our winter gear and began to make our way toward New Orleans, our destination for the night. We weren't sure what we were going to do in the Big Easy or for how long we were going to stay, but being so close, we knew it was a stop that we couldn't miss. We spent the majority of the day driving. Along the way, just after entering Louisiana we took an intentional scenic detour to the south. Our books had told us of a side trip known as the Creole Nature Trail, a highway that has been given the prestigious classification of All American Highway. Of all the roads that we have traveled on during our journey, we have only once before traveled on and All American Highway and that was in Alaska on the Seward Highway, the road between Anchorage and Seward. Simply put, this road was incredible. Mountains raising up on either side of you, big horn sheep and beluga whales a common sight, and nothing but the pristine beauty of nature for miles and miles. So, upon seeing another All American Highway, our expectations were quite high and we were thrilled to take this 90 mile detour south. Unfortunately Louisiana just does not match up to Alaska. The entire drive is through a wetland area with evidence of civilization all around. Because the weather was so cold, none of the animals that supposedly inhabit the route were out moving and all we saw were a number of great herons and pelicans. When we got to the Gulf coast our view of the horizon was marred by dozens of off shore drilling rigs and the whole bay area was a big oil refinery. The most stunning thing we saw was on our way back to the highway when 3 flamingos flew right over us, suspended above the road while they fought the cold west wind. I do believe that in the heat of summer this place would be teeming with wildlife, but on this cold February day, we were a

little disappointed. Back on the highway we made good time driving along the straight raised highway through the Louisiana swamp. Just before we reached Baton Rouge we pulled off the highway and took a small back road known to some as Plantation Alley. Here, back in the South's hay day, this stretch of road between New Orleans and Baton Rouge housed 80% of America's millionaires. Of the some 40 plantations that filed along this road only 6 remain standing and are open to the public for visiting. It does cost about $60 per person to enter, thus making it too rich for our blood, but it was still a fun and interesting road to drive down. The road winds and curves along with the banks of the Mississippi though the river is not visible because of the

giant levees which now contain the river. Of the few plantations that can still be seen in all their glory, the Oak Alley Plantation was by far the most famous and most impressive. It has been featured in many movies and is the iconic version of a Southern plantation that we all picture in our heads. During our drive along Plantation Alley I voiced an idea to Katie that had been growing in my head all day; to stay in a hostel in downtown New Orleans. Since New Orleans is a big city, finding a spot to park the van to sleep in would be a little hard. Plus, in a hostel we would possibly find people to go out with us and hopefully make a few new friends. It seemed like the best option for us to explore a city like New Orleans. We looked up a few places searching for one that was cheap and close to the French Quarter, and finding one to Katie's liking almost immediately. We checked in and got our bunks then made our way into the small packed common room. It was only 6 p.m. and no one seemed like they wanted to go anywhere anytime soon, so Katie and I decided to make our way down to the French Quarter for some dinner. We were pretty hungry from our lunch of peanut butter and had already looked up the only brewery in New Orleans which is where we planned to eat. Crescent City Brewhouse was a little more pricey than we had hoped for but in our current state we weren't about to relocate. I had deep fried soft shell crab covered in crawfish while Katie had a predictable caesar salad. After our meal we walked around the French Quarter a bit but nothing much was going on. It was too cold and it was a Tuesday anyway so we quickly headed back to the hostel to see what was going on there. The common room was now alive with people talking with one other so Katie and I came in and sat down on the floor, the only space left in the room. After talking for a bit a group of us decided to go out downtown. We walked in the cold for a bit and waited 15 minutes for a trolley before abandoning the idea of going downtown and just headed to a local dive bar near the hostel.

We woke up early the next day and decided to walk to the French Quarter and spend the day

exploring the city. A couple blocks from our hostel we noticed a bunch of Mardi Gras floats out in the street and decided to check it out. While trying to learn things about the city, Katie had read of a guy who is responsible for creating almost 90% of the Mardi Gras floats in his warehouse. Apparently you can tour the warehouse for a price, seeing all the new floats for the coming year. We concluded that this is what we had stumbled upon. We walked by the 4 floats in the street then peered in the warehouse and saw endless rows of floats all elaborately different. After our

detour we again headed for the French Quarter and arrived after a cold half hour walk. We stopped in at a national park named after Jean Lafitte which soon became a top contender for most pointless national park. Then, to warm ourselves up we headed to the famous Cafe du Monde where we enjoyed some coffee with chicory and some sugar coated beignets. Once our

innards were warmed, we again braved the cold and visited the open air French Market where Katie bought a new purse from one of the shops. Next we found a pleasant surprise at another national park office, this time focusing on New Orleans Jazz. It was noon

when we walked in and found that we were just in time for an hour long live show cataloging jazz through the ages. The guy was the best piano player that either of us had ever seen and we ended up staying the entire hour when we thought we would only stay for a song. When the hour ended we again hit the streets and decided to walk toward the old St. Louis Cemetery. This place we had heard was unsafe for tourists

to walk alone in. Because of its isolated location and lack of visibility due to the above ground graves, muggers have taken to this land of the dead to waylay the living. Knowing this only added

to the creepy and ominous nature the cemetery projects. As we walked around, cautiously peaking around corners while standing in awe of the above ground graves, there was a number of times when Katie couldn't handle the stillness anymore and wanted to leave the place entirely. Fortunately, there was a couple of guided tours around the area so by standing close enough to hear them Katie felt comfortable and we got to learn about the graves and the people inside them. After we had thoroughly examined the place we headed back to the lively populated French Quarter.

Here we continued to walk around the city, this time walking down Royal Street gawking at the beautiful ironwork that lines the street. On the recommendation of our hostel host we headed to Frenchman Street

which turned out to be completely dead. Our host had told us that this is a place where local people hang out and it was a completely different feel from Bourbon Street. It didn't occur to us that he was referring to the nightlife and we soon realized that most of the bars and shops didn't open until much later. After some lunch and some souvenir shopping we headed to Pat O'Briens to order the famous Hurricane drink then proceeded to walk up and down Bourbon Street before making our way back to the hostel. Here we again hung out in the common room for a bit and again went out with a new group of people once the night had come.