“Because in the end, you won’t remember the time you spent working in the office or mowing your lawn. Climb that goddamn mountain.” – Jack Kerouac

After a lazy evening following some serious walking yesterday, our first action item was a trolley bus around town to see the sights. I must say the waterfront area is very attractive and from south of the city. It provided possibly the best city skyline I’ve seen, a mini New York, if you will.

Did you know its a popular misconception Chicago is called the Windy City because of their ongoing blustery winds? Well we have been informed by a good authority, the locals, it is more a matter of a Chicago versus New York rivalry, similar to Melbourne/Sydney. The New Yorkens believe the Chicagoens are a bit up themselves and have applied a different meaning to the word ‘windy’.

We hopped off the trolley to make our southward journey to Cellular Field, home of the Chicago White Sox. I had previously researched their supporter base and quickly learnt how south of the river you support the Sox and north of the river you support the Cubs. It is a genuine rivalry, and certainly this year the Sox are the more successful. Everyone I have spoken to around town supports my research; the moment you cross the river the support base changes. Instantly. So we are based (by default) on the appropriate side of the river.

I managed to get good seats, 28 rows from, and directly in line with 1^st base. Great view of all the action. Lots of home runs, catches, double plays, bunts and broken bats. Our tix wer half the price of our Yankees tickets last year for much better seats – no equalization issues here! After being 3 zip down in the 1^st innings we came back to give em a good ol’ floggin’. If I recall correctly there were about 4 homers, so pretty exciting.  So that’s 2 games for me since last year, for 2 wins. I reckon I’ve become a talisman for my favourite teams.

Unfortunately we missed out on an NFL practice game by only hours upon arrival, with the Bears stadium, Soldier Field being just around the corner and within walking distance. Still, you can only do whats avaialbele and we’ve done plenty.

After a few beers and overload on hotdogs and nachos we returned to home base. The Z’s and I went for a bike ride – my first ride for almost 10 yrs – a hoot. However we were inundated by tens of thousands of tweenies journeying to a One Direction concert around the corner. Lucky us. The ride took us to Bundy Fountain and the obligatory photo. Hundreds more were situated around the fountain blocking all my attempts to  get a half decent photo.  It remains a popular spot in Grant Park, particularly with the skyline as a backdrop.

Dinner tonight included an extra guest – a friend of the Z’s who just found out via Facebook we were neighbours. Now when I say neighbours I mean she resides in the building next door to our apartment! Go figure. So a late meal was enjoyed by all prior to rushing back to our condo to catch the 10pm firworks display from the Navy Pier. So we knocked the tops off a cou[ple and squeezed onto our 18^th fl balcony awaiting what would be a wondrous display of late night pyrotechnics. Alas, the bangs and lights went off on schedule, while we failed to see the show due to a 30 storey building blocking our view.  The display was set off just out of our view, so while we think we’ve got a good pad, we remain somewhat disappointed. I let Gary know. Now I’ve missed out on both the London and Chicago fireworks. Such is life.

It is hard to determine how Chicago works, how liveable it is, what its qualities are… And there are many positives. But there are places that are no go zones, as in most cities around the world, but this can be a very violent place. As an example, a couple of nights ago we saw emergency vehicles arriving at a gas station across the road. Lots of flashing lights. We could not see any smoke or fire so didn’t think much of it. However the next morning the girls saw the area had been cordoned off by the police. We have heard it is a ‘popular’ site for violent crime!

Certainly the city area is noisy, again like many other cities, even our own. Yet with the very close proximity of trains in many areas, sirens being a constant, big mobs of people everywhere (tourists?), it may be a little busy for me. But there again I haven’t experienced a lot of inner city dwelling at home either. Still, while London and New York did it for me immediately, Chicago is a different animal. And while I don’t have the capacity to remain here for another week or two, it would be interesting.

At the moment, as I continue to take in those amazing views, things sit very comfortably with me.

 

The Yankees remain in my heart, but my 2nd team won 6-3.

 

Phil Bundy - "love & marriage..."

 

me and mine at the Bean taking clever photos

 

up close & personal with our new friend- Jeff, er, um, you know who I mean... thanks for the night, man!

 

the boys wear silly hats in Nashville - just as the locals do

 

the view from our condo at Sweet Home Chicago

“I came from a real tough neighborhood. Once, a guy pulled a knife on me. I knew he wasn’t a professional, the knife had butter on it”. – Rodney Dangerfield

 

Sorry to keep rubbing it in, but another warm day here. The locals told us a couple of warm days are upcoming, and while last night I put jeans on for the first time this trip, tonight was shorts & T for sure.

We took a leisurely guided walking tour thru the old (ex) Chicago library, which is now being transferred into a range of venues and exhibitions – a beautiful building indeed. Our guide also took us thru Millenium Park which was so named to celebrate the… well, you know… however was completed some 3 yrs late – just like many other cities we know? Saw the Bean – fascinating. The artwork and sculptures are impressive and the parks and gardens immaculate – tomatoes or corn anyone?

The afternoon saw us on a Chicago river cruise, at the top of the John Hancock centre bulding, a walk along the Magnificent Mile and yet another bar with hundreds of beers. Funny how these wonderful  bars full of American beers keep appearing before us.  Bizarrely we ended up having dinner at a French restaurant; maybe we’re missing our preferred cuisines and home cooking more than we thought.

Two weeks in now, and the batteries are low. Everyone’s chillin’. Another early night tonight. Maybe we can squeeze in a few hrs sleep prior to commencing our day early tomoz. Coz we have a ball game to go to.

"Mr Bond, they have a saying in Chicago: once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. The third time it's enemy action" - Ian Fleming (Goldfinger)

 

A two leg domestic flight via Atlanta saw us arrive in Chicago in the late arvo.  My first impression of the roads, the traffic and the Chicago skyline was that of Melbourne – many similarities. But once in town it was more like a mini New York.  It took us almost an hour and a half to find our condo at the south end of Grant Park, from where our huge windows look across acres of parkland to the city skyline – just like the brochure said!

It didn’t take us long to find a Giordano Pizza shop a few minutes down the road – a Chicago style deep dish pizza was sucked down in no time before a bit of a walk along the length of the park. However our walk was cut short as we experienced our first real rain thus far, only a shower, but enough to wet the hair haha.

As I type this we are happily sitting in our comfy chairs overlooking this great North American city thru our oversized windows, while you guys continue to suffer cold and dreary days. With daily temps to be in the high 20’s, and minimums around the high teens, it is a significant change to the very high temp’s of the last 12 days or so. With todays slower pace and (almost AFD), maybe our overwrought bodies can recover a little.

Thinking of ya'awl.

“White folks hear the blues come out, but they don’t know how it got there” – Son House

Yet another great day yesterday. Yet another hot one. Did a walking tour of Nashville with a Willie Nelson lookalike that actually does shows as an impersonator. Took in the Grand Ole Opry – what a fantastic venue , chock a block with history of top entertainers over the years. Elvis got booed off stage here due to his gyrating. It’s pleasing to see the wonderful building has been fully restored and opened to the public. While no band was scheduled to play during the day we were fortunate enough to have front row & centre during the soundcheck for a little band scheduled to play that night  - I think his name was Jeff someone or other and may be an actor or sumthin. Hearing a band play in what is said to be the second best acoustical auditorium in the world  (next to the Mormon Tabernacle and ahead of Carnegie Hall) served to conclude our musical journey, from  the delta blues down south, to the birth of rock n roll in Memphis, and finally experiencing the grand old stage where so many famous entertainers have performed.

While I was being serenaded by the stars the lovely wife tended to her wants and needs – a few hours shopping for boots – she came back with 3 pairs. Yeehah!!! Got some bootscootin to do now has my little pardner. She tells me they have nothing to fit my little girlie feet and the smaller pair are intended for Kelsey (when she’s about 7 or 8).

Wifey also managed to get her phone up and running, a necessary survival item while holidaying abroad. She had a smile the size of Texas.

Nashville is apparently also known as Gotham City as it’s tallest building resembles Batman, while it’s neighbor looks a little like R2D2. I hope my photos pick that up.

We spent the later hours moseying around the many honky tonk bars around Broadway, and finished up on a rooftop bar listening to a band that actually didn’t play any country at all. This was one of very few bands that didn’t. The girls (inc Nick) hung around the rooftop, while  Gary once again led me astray as we ended up in a bourbon blues & boogie bar which entertained us til the wee hours. Then it was up and at em after only a few hours sleep as we readied ourselves for our flight to Chicago.

Then we’ll start all over again....

“I was in Nashville, Tennessee last year. After the show I went to a waffle house. I’m not proud of it – I was hungry. And I’m alone, I’m eating, and I’m reading a book, right? Waitress walks over to me : ‘Hey, watcha readin’ for’? Isn’t that the weirdest effin question you’ve ever heard? Not what am I reading, but what am I reading FOR? Well goddamit you stumped me! Why do I read? Well… hmmm, I dunno, I guess I read for a lot of reasons and the main one is so I don’t end up being an effin waffle waitress.” – Bill Hicks

So we made it to Nashville. Apparently they have some country here. And some western too. Hopefully not too much of it, but the Z’s don’t mind a bit of it , and they did put up with the first chunk being blues based. It’ll be interesting,, no doubt.

We arrived by bus. What should have been a simple booking and check in process was complicated by some bewildering technology and issues with the bus. It was late, replaced, further delayed, followed by a baggage isuue for we all. We finally left an hour an hour and a quarter late. Still, a late bus with wifi is better than nothing at all, right? Oh, but did you want aircon as well? Maybe we should have clarified that beforehand.

The Tennesseans are funny with their aircon. They had evaporative air throughout our Memphis hotel, hardly appropriate for yet another day in the mid-high 90’s with a bit of humidity. (The comfort level was around 105-110 degrees for our duration.) I would not recommend the hotel we stayed at for many reasons which I do not need to relate to here. Suffice to say I caught up on a bit o’ shuteye during our extraordinarily lengthy bus trip.

At our hotel checkin, after L specifically requested a room away from elevators, foyers and ice & vending machines, as had twice before been our situation, we ended up in a room – you guessed it – near the elevators. Still, the room is one of the better ones we have had, even if the aircon fan is very loud. The Tennesseans are funny with their aircon. And in auctioning their checkin requests.

So lat night, and it was another late one, we all had the BBQ pork ribs, as all visitors to Nashville probably do. The hangout here is Broadway St, maintain the B pattern that has emerged (Bourbon in NO and Beale in Memphis). Not as big as the others and a little more refined maybe. Plenty of bars with the bands all playing in the windows so you can clearly see what you’ll get upon entering. After a few short viwings os what was available we settled on the Full Moon where the good ol’boys came to cheer their band of choice – a mixture of a whole range of musical genres yet still very very C&W!! The most entertaining double bassist I’ve seen. But when those good ol boys and girls packed in and started on their whoopin’ and a hollerin’, truckers caps being waved in the air, we set off for home. Its evident the locals wear the obligatory boots, western shirts and the occasional Stetson. And anything with Harley Davidson is de rigeur.

The girls retired as the fellas found a blues bar right next door to our digs, but unfortunately caught only the last song. Still, todays another day and we need to get busy. Goodnight.

“Sal, we gotta go and never stop going ‘til we get there.”

“Where we going, man?”

“I don’t know but we gotta go.” – Jack Kerouac

 

Yesterday was spent at the King’s house. We have been to the Queens house in 08, but thought we’d drop in. While he had left the building many years ago Graceland was a lot of things rolled into one. Overwhelming, really, but full of history , enabling an insight into the extravagant life of the Presley’s family and business lives. Yet kitsch at the same time. And emotional as the family graves are on full display. As was last year’s memorial for John lennon, this was another time for reflection. The car collection was the highlight for me.

The girls did some housework and looked after the laundry, God bless ‘em, while the boys took a tour at the Gibson guitar factory. Gary is talking about getting the band back together, But we’ve both heard that before.  

The evening saw us return to the Flying Saucer bar for supper and a few tastings of the local brews. I think a number of the overseas ones were also dispatched at some time. The K’s and I kicked on at (a thankfully much quieter) Beale St where we caught a further 2 blues bands. Sensational.

Woke up late today with a dry mouth but with a spring in my step and a twinkle in my eye. While our Memphis leg is now complete, as is our first road trip (we have 2 more to come) we conlude what is the major component of our field trip – music. And while Beale St can become a drunken cesspit on a Saturday night – and I believe is overrated – it does have sone great music playing every night.  Y’all should take a trip out here some day, know what I’m sayin’?

 

 

 

"I went on a roadtrip with my cat, Cap'n. I would have let him drive, but he was drunk." - Jarod Kintz

 

 

 

 

Alligator Dundee - this is what you get when you dangle your arms over the edge of the boat

I finally got to sell my soul

Clarksdale, in the late morn heat, this is what you get on the streets - fanbloodytastic - I liked it so much I bought the album

 

 

me and some dude - I'm on the right - at Sun Studio

one bourbon one scotch and one beer @ Bourbon St N'awlins

 

If you are into music, Memphis is a must

“Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the desert cart” – Emma Bombeck

That’s how I feel at the moment. There is so much to do, see, eat and drink. Yet so little time.

Memphis is different to  what we have expeeienced thus far. Big town. Bloody hot. Apparently the south has had a mild summer, but we are now copping it – 100 degrees everyday day, and “feels like” 109 (you know how much I like that term – how the hell does any wetther burea person know how I feel?

Another magnificent day today – Sun Studio, and Stax records  - all this music history makes me yearn for more research. And while I am aware mant tourists travel south from Nashville/Memphis on there magic musical tour , the best way to do it is travel north. That way you learn of the older blues influences  which led to the advent of rock n roll. This is a life experience right ther, ya’all!. I am in the throes of expanding my musicval tastes – a lot more listening/research to be done.

The afternoon was spent on the mighty Mississippi in a paddle boat – unfortunately not a steamboat,, but with a paddle wheel nongtheless.  I had catfish today so gthat really closed the book om my culinary wish list for the south.

Annd no visit to Memphis is complete for a beer lover without sampling the wares of the Flying Saucer. Scores of craft beers on tap, several of them sampled. Our dream bar business is nearing fruition given our networking. Another hard day, due to heat and lack of sleep ( a really really bad night in the hotel resulting in a change of room) but that’s for another day). What I can say is evaporative cooling does not work well when the temp has been 100 degrees for several days. And the nights are not much cooler.

Paradise! Hope its waermer where you are.

 

“To understand the world, you must first understand a place like Mississippi” – William Faulkner

While we left Mississippi today, I can’t help but acknowledge this place is a little different to most that I’ve been, and it’s an area I would require much more time to better understand it. Clarksdale was a hoot. Today was spent at a couple of music museums, much to the chagrin of the girls. It appears the locals remain indoors and stay out of the sun. This somewhat desolated town has many hidden treasures. One such pleasure today was to watch a local musician set up on the footpath outside his store and play to an audience of, well… us. We had to change our plans and delayed our trip to Memphis by a few hours, travelling in the heat of the day – another 100 degrees.

Again the roads are a breeze, and while most locals tend to drive with one hand – with either a mobile phone or extra  large drink container in the other – such is the prevalence it must be mandatory.. Still the major roads are long, straight and flat and well maintained and high speeds (about the equal of our legal speeds) are easily maintained .

We crossed the border into Tennessee and our surroundings instantly changed. Memphis is just over the border but the landscape, people and even the cars just seemed to change from only what we had been experiencing only a short distance away. And I suspect there are no casino’s in this state.

We have our digs near to the “entertainment” hub – Beale St – which is memphis’ equivalent to Bourbon St in N.O. or Bangla Rd in Phuket. We caught a band late arvo, blues for some and MOR for the others, but genrally took it easy in the heat. A walk to Beale St found the 3 block street was heavily blocked by security and police, requiring patdowns and metal detectors to gain entry. I decided Beale St on  Saturday night was probably not for me and plan to retire early. But the Saints are on at 1am. A quandary presents itself.

“Old black water, keep on rollin’, Mississippi moon won’t you keep on shinin’ on me” – Patrick Simmons

It’s hot here. Bloody hot! A whole lot warmer than the frosts we left behind only a week ago. The next few days will find temperatures approaching 100 in the old. The nights are beautiful, but remain warm, dropping only to around 80.

The roadtrip itself has seen us slip a few hours behind any schedule that we may once have had. Natchez deserved more attention than we could give it. Vicksburg would need a couple of days minimum. While the casino experience was great to try, it wasn’t for us, though the food was better than what I had expected. Again, the southern folk were extremely friendly. We spent the early hours yesterday touring the Vicksburg National Military Park. What an interesting piece of American history – that will require more reading when I get home.

Then we headed further north to hit Clarksdale, the spiritual home of the delta blues.. Lots of music history here for the boys to delve into, well, Gary and I anyway.  Had the obligatory photo taken at the Crossroads (which if I am not mistaken has moved? More research to be done if and when I can find the time). We found ourselves at the Pink Bar for a refreshing beverage having been in our luxury people mover all day. Last night saw us at a pizza place with a great duo playing, then onto Reds where I got involved in a bit of guitar pickin’ with the lead man. Seated within touching distance of the band you couldn’t help but get involved. Then onto the other quintessential blues bar,Ground Zero, owned by Morgan Freeman. Great bands – top night. Another adventure crossed off the bucket list.

And yes, there should be piccies coming once our initial road trip concludes and we set up for  few days in Memphis.

“Next to music, beer was best” – Carson McCullers

New Orleans was fantastic. It was everything I hoped it would be.  Friendly, clean and vibrant enough for us. And now for something completely different…

Our roadtrip began today after a hiccup with the car booking, as we visited a couple of sugar cane plantations towards Baton Rouge.  Beautiful homes, brutal history and harsh climate and today was said to be a bit on the mild side. The highways are very good to drive on and are well maintained. The terrain remained flat until we approached Natchez on the way to the Mississippi Delta. We crossed the river a couple of times and noted how busy this waterway is with barges and general boat traffic.

We visited one of the many riverside casino’s tonight  - it is amazing how many  casino’s there are in this corner of the world. While the gaming environment it is not for us we enjoyed some very good local fare in one of their restaurants.

So its early to bed as tomorrow we plan to visit a few blues museums  throughout the local area.

“We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.” – Charles Bukowski

N’awlins is my kinda town. As was San Diego, D.C. & New York last year. They are all different, but all great places to explore. They each have their own history and culture. Yet the one constant is the people – they are really friendly people. There are some weirdo’s about but generally they are polite and welcoming.

Yesterday was spent resting from the night before. A visit to a cemetery – where the walled blocks and whitewashed tombs generate a temperature 20 degrees hotter than outside. It was hot! 

Visited Louis Armstrong Park and the others had a bike ride thru City Park while I had a little lie down. We got caught up in a couple of places being filmed for NCIS New Orleans, lots of helicopters and police cars. Crossed a couple more Cajun dishes off my extensive list at dinner.

There has been a little difficulty with internet access at our hotel, and our late nights and early morns have not been conducive to penning a few lines.  Hopefully that will improve as we start our roadtrip tomoz.

And a very happy birthday to my beautiful daughter tomorrow (which is today here, but may have been yesterday there… I think)

“ONE BOURBON… ONE SCOTCH… ONE BEER” – not…

What a day it was yesterday. Airboats in the swamps south of N.O. to see the alligators. If you’ve see Swamp People on TV you’ll get the picture. A jazz concert at Preservation Hall, an original building dating many years, no facilities, no windows, no aircon and no seat!. A fried oyster and pork belly po boy , Vietnamese style, for dinner.

After our post dinner nightcap we headed home. A change of plans halfway found the girls continue to the hotel while boys went to Bourbon St. We caught a set by Big Al and the Blues Masters at the Funky Pirate. Big Al took a liking to us when plans were laid to take care of one item on our wish list. To the song One Boiurbon, One Scotch One Beer, the boys put down the said items to theo ngoing warbles of Big Al. (and yes, he’s a big boy is Al). The other customers looked on, maybe with envy, maybe with a WTF look. But what we didn’t know was that Big Al hisself had arranged for us to have a second round… he had to repeat the final chorus several times as the bar staff struggled to produce the shots in quick time. But they did come – and much against my better instinct we repeated the dose. Now I kid you not when the audience rose as one and applauded US!. Big Al thought it was a hoot and we bought him a drink (and paid a healthy tip. It was a very expensive song indeed, but our intention is to continue the tradition as we travel northwards up the Mississippi. The song will one day be remembered as Two Bourbons, Two Scotches and One beer (it’s hard to quickly down a 22 oz beer).

Physically we were destroyed by our moment of inspired madness and again aimed for home. However, another bar appeared from nowhere as the very loud sound of a Texas boogie band wafted up the street. We enetered to find a 3 piece playing on a stage immediately behing and above the head of the bar staff, pumping out some serious riffs. Another beverage was ordered and we settled in front and centre. Got to talking to the band and commenced playing our requests. Our repertoire enticed other street walkers in and a small crowd gathered. Another band ended, another bar conquered, a selection of further draft beers sampled. Home by 2 or 3 or so – I have no idea – but who cares, this is the Big Easy.

As under the weather as I was I will not forget one extremely emotional moment as I was leaving the Funky Pirate.  A young(ish) American Serviceman approached me with much backslapping and hand pumping, thanking me, my fellow countrymen and the Australian public for supporting their armed forces overseas. I kid you not, dear readers, I teared up as there was no disputing this man’s sincere emotions.  I could only guess at what this man may have endured while serving overseas. The fact he was personally thanking me was quite bewildering – why me? how is one to respond? It was one of the most humbling experiences of my life, and one I will not shortly forget.

And that, friends, ended one of the most memorable days of my travelling life.

“The world is a book and those who do not ravel read only one page” – St Augustine

“New Orleans is as delicious as the less criminal foods of sin.” – Mark Twain

We are still trying to get into some sort of rhythm. We remain tired and the heat, I suspect,  is now contributing to our malaise. While the local forecast says its high 20’s to low 30’s, it’s feeling much warmer coming out of cooler temps. And the humidity, contributed to by a storm or shower each day, plays a part. But the downpours are brief and then out comes the sunshine and dries up all the rain…

The morning saw us lose the Z’s – Nick has once again succumbed to the Melbourne sniffles. Some may recall this time last year we lost him for a few days in Washington due to illness. I sincerely hope he grows a couple and deals with it as we have a very very long way to go.

So we commenced with brekky at a place I think would be hard to beat in most places, and certainly N’awlins (as we locals like to call it). Much against our group’s modus operandi we ventured to The Ruby Slipper – the same place as yesterday. Having shrimp and grits in an amber beer and cream reduction with rosemary, with a biscuit,  may not do it for many, but it’s now ticked off my list. And you may be surprised at who started the day with a grog, but that stays on the trip…

A bus tour and walking tour later we sat down for some cheesecake. But having later worked out our distance walked as about 25 km’s we reckoned we had earned it. Today we walked around the Garden’s area – old period plantation style homes, saw John Goodman’s house, the Peyton Bros (NFL) family home  and many other spectacular homes.

We later did a ghost tour – N.O. is big on that, with voodoo an’all – lots of grisly & gruesome tales from the rich and vibrant local history. Biut the most interesting of all, and somewhat ironic story given my comments of yesterday, is why Nicholas Cages’s career has gone down the plughole… You see, he bought this house (which we visited) in the heart of town which apparently had a grisly tail to tell. When he found out about the bodies that had previously been found in his home he quickly sold it upon learning of a curse placed upon his abode. This happened about the same time his films bombed – and there were many of them. To rid himself of the cursed curse he sought assistance from a clairvoyant. She told him to purchase a $250K cemetery plot off someone she knows, built to her specifications. So he did. And we’ve seen the tomb. Yet his films still suck. Allegedly.

Dinner was at Coops Place. Now I have never, and possibly will never again, queue to get into a restaurant. But a local place with an exhaustive creole/Cajun menu attracted our attention, was recommended, and became a must visit. So yes, we queued for a half hour to get into this tiny place. And was it worth it? You betcha, my sorta food, and I left having ticked Jambalaya, gumbo and southern style fried chicken off my list. And reasonable prices to boot. If ever you are in N.O., this is a must.

The walk home took us via Bourbon St once again. We thought we’d give a weeknight a go to suss out whether the excess of the weekends were different. Indeed it was quieter, though the strippers, police, touters and loud music remained. We watched a lady vocalist at the Funky Pirate, personally paid her in tips to continue playing, and tried shots to mix it with the young un’s.

And as Ernest Hemingway once said: “ Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut”. Goodnight.

“I got bourbon faced on Shit St” (this could well be a local saying)

I awoke to find the clock at 8am. I had no idea where I was, and it took a good few moments to realize I was in another country, once again. ‘Twas a long day yesterday… the girls worked it out at 36 hrs without bed, and while we had all napped when and where we could en route, we had arrived at New Orleans very very tired.

Our (eventual) flight to N.O. was uneventful and found us reunited with our luggage.  Phew!! It also found us arriving at 11pm Saturday night where it was very warm and extremely humid. We were the last plane in and it was very quiet and extremely closed at the airport.

Once we were introduced to our hotel rooms we quickly skedaddled for the hubbub of Bourbon St in the French Quarter. I had been looking forward to this for quite a while, and arriving at such a late time (thanks again VIRGIN!!) was no obstacle – it was packed. With a population of around 370,000 in N.O. itself, I reckon only 100,000 or so were tucked up at home in bed. For Bourbon St itself was a seething mass (read mess) of drunken revelers. Bourbon St (I believe may be pronounce Burr-bonn – unless the locals are pulling my leg). Either way, the French Qtr on a Saturday night rocks. After comparing the area with Bangalow Rd in Phuket, only drunker,  we sought out a bar playing some soulful tunes. After watching a jazz band for a short while (long enough for the rats to become acquainted with us) we found  a small bar with no band and washed down a shrimp Po Boy at 2 in the morn with a couple of local brews.

 

“Goooood Mornin, New Orleans!” (vale Mr Williams)

Having rested our eyes – at last – for a few hrs we repaired for breakfast. A diner provided us with a plethora of local breakfast dishes, and I commenced on a delightful eggs couchon – poached eggs with pulled pork on a biscuit. And filling…. Well we had had a Po boy only 6 hrs earlier. So after leaving half on the plate (as did the others) we headed off for the obligatory On-Off bus. We have always found this mode of transport a congenial way of getting  a lay of the land. This one introduced us to a bit of the history, and a lot of the beautiful houses that are unique to this part of the world. The small frontages were misleading as the houses sprawl back to provide a sizable living space. And as a lot of the historical buildings in Britain were fashioned by the tax laws of the day, so to were these properties, being taxed at one time on the width of their street front. Silly when you think of it, as rearwards and upwards they went.

Oh, and we saw Nicholas Cage’s “pyramid” burial plot that he has pre purchased. Now I know he’s a weirdo. Goes to show what a string of bad films will do to a person. *

Early arvo saw the boys sampling some local wares in a waterfront bar on the Mississippi. We had sent the girls on their way ( a shopping outlet had recently opened and they just had to visit) My first impression was not anything flash – the river, not the brew – but I knew that would change as we journey our way north in the days to come. Back to the beer – pretty bloody good! And a blues band played their very very unique version of Shine On You Crazy Diamond! Only in the Big Easy.

Sunday night saw us trudge along Bon Bon St, or whatever they now call it, once again. Being earlier it was more subdued, but heaps of merrymakers were shaking their booty to the myriad of bands. Boy can these locals dance, swaying and hopping around to the big jazz sound! There was music on the street, there was music in the bars, tehere was music all around. And it was loud. A massive wall of sound spewed out into this one street from so many music venues.

We made our way to Frenchmans St which the locals now favour, describing it as what Biurbon St once was prior to denigrating to the spew filled area it now is. Frenchmans more than made up for it. Bars/music venues galore. Without the  crassness the visitors present just down the road. We watched a little blues, had dinner (blackened fish for yours truly, another local cuisine to cross off my extensive list) then a little walk back home at a more appropriate hour (I think about midnight).

On the way we stumbled across Café Du Monde – apparently THE place to go for the sweet delicacy known as beignets, a French donut. This place was a hoot – I believe it has a respected name for locals and tourists alike, but it was spectacularly ordinary place. Worth a laugh if you get our Asian waiter. Better still, avoid. The donuts were nice but!

So – stumps in the wee hours again. I love this life.

*Footnote – this reminds me of what Mark Twain once said: “I did not attend his funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it”.

 

"We Have A Situation Here…"

 

…is what the nice lady announced on her 2-way at 10:50 this morning. The check In supervisor was urgently ringing a higher authority. The problem  was we had 10 minutes to check in for our connecting flight from LA to New Orleans. And we had yet to make our way thru the Security area.  Our bags were tagged and on their way to N.O. – but we weren’t part of the deal. Something about not being allocated a ticket by Virgin Australia. Virgin had cocked up (sorry, I just had to say it). Delta just had to help us.

It was 9am in a warm LA sun – it was 5 degrees when we left Oz – looking for someone to blame, for someone to assist us as our bags were going one way, and we 6 another. “ No ticket for you, sir!” I uttered a few Aussieism’s in response, but that would get us nowhere. Delta said it was Virgin’s issue, but after jogging half the length of the LA environs to seek their urgent help, their counter was unmanned. 45 minutes later we obtained the help of a lovely Delta lady (you will quickly pick up on my frequent song references).

So we missed our flight. Alas, our bags didn’t, and we are stranded at LAX in 30 degrees wearing Melbourne winter woolies. Bizzarely, we don’t stand out from the diverse LA crowd. What a mixture of ethnicities, cultures and fashion. Interestingly, as we were watching our flight depart without us, as resigned to our fate as we were, and being 20 hrs awake with minimal sleep, a dreadlocked visitor sought us out to ask for assistance with his own travel issues. Must be that friendly and eloquent outlook we Aussies present no matter what shit we’re faced with.

We happily accepted some Delta food/drink vouchers as we were faced with a 7 hr delay til our next available flight to N.O. So we did what any intrepid traveler would do while faced with such adversity.

We adjourned to a bar for a few beers. Do you know what a couple of ales do to you when you’ve been up for 24 hrs and run around in the 30 degree sunshine? Yep, $200 later (US) we’re in la-la land and still have 2 hours to go til another 3-4 hr flight. (In a sense we are akready flying...) Then it will (hopefully) be a mad – nay - very mad rush to make Bourbon St for some Saturday night action.

Only in America.

The End.

A curious way to commence the latest travel blog, indeed. Yet a very fitting way. For we are to commence our latest journey at the mouth of one of the world’s great waterways - where it washes into the Gulf Of Mexico, where it concludes its almost 4,000 km journey after originating in the far north of Minnesota.

What hasn’t been said to describe the wonders of Old Man River, Ol’ Grande, The Father Of Waters… the mighty Mississippi? You only have to read the likes of Mark Twain, William Faulkner, T S Elliot, F Scott FitzGerald even, to understand the historical and cultural significance of this vast and wondrous work of nature. For it influences everything it touches as it unfurls through America’s Mid-West down to the deep south.

And now I have an opportunity to sample it over the coming weeks as the Bali 6 (we chose the name first) undertake their 4^th overseas adventure together. From the big cities, to the open plains, we’ve got it all packed into our itinerary. Hopefully we get to learn about the people, the interesting history, of life in the delta, the rich and diverse music history that is the blues, and of course it’s mouth-watering cuisine. And not to mention those craft beers the Americans are becoming known for.

While we have over 10 flights to carry us on our way through the many states and islands on our travels, we also have many miles (that’s Yankee for 1.609344 kms) to ride on the ol’ blacktop. Various legs will see us in mini buses and vintage convertibles and maybe a 4WD or a “truck”, which should prove challenging in itself. I can just imagine the boys in front, beers in hand, the girls propped up in the tray out back with their backs against the gun rack…

The apprehension now mounts, as is it’s wont as we conclude our packing and await the journey to Tulla. From there, it’s full steam ahead. Now, it’s the beginning.

                                

      The before photo - let's see how the after piccie turns out.... 2kg heavier,  3? Or 5 maybe