“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