Leaving Memphis, we had a pleasant morning drive on route 55, through a lightly wooded area (mixed broadleaf in fall colours and conifers) and occasional lakes, interspersed with crop farming (cotton/hay). The excellent Visitors Information Centre at the Mississippi border provided all the maps we needed. Seeing a sign to the Mississippi State Fish Hatcheries at Lake Enid, we stopped for what turned out to be a fascinating brief introduction to the work of the facility to keep rivers and lakes stocked, largely for recreational fishermen, but also to ensure that the waterways remained healthy. We were able to see, at close hand, the breeding of catfish, koi carp, crappies and alligator gars. According to information at the facility, the last of these commonly reach 40kg in weight. It was particularly fascinating to see a presentation on the breeding of sterile fish, to avoid the dominance of one species over others.
Wanting to get off the main highway, we crossed 30 miles to the Nachez Trace Parkway, which foolows the route of an old Choctaw Indian Trail opened up by the US Government in the 19th century to provide a faster communication route to the southwest through land "ceded" by the Indians, who later "moved to" Oklahoma. The Parkway is an attractive wooded drive, similar to the Ornamental Drive in the New Forest, but over 500 miles in length! We covered only about 100 miles and, unfortunately, couldn't see anything of the countryside because of trees lining the road for 400-800 metres on both sides along the whole route. In retrospect, we would probably have done much better to take the route along the Mississippi valley via Greenville and Vicksburg.
As the afternoon was drawing to a close, we sped down Highway 55 to join the massive Interstate 10. The last 80 miles into New Orleans were in darkness on a concrete sectioned highway – very noisy ‘kerchunk kerchunk’ for 75 minutes was quite tiring. The heavy traffic density and the assertive, if not aggressive, driving did not help. The standard of driving has deteriorated since we have travelled south and west. We had been warned of the tail-gating habit of drivers in the US. Although we did encounter it earlier occasionally, it has only been a serious problem in the southern states. It is quite common to see cars travelling at 65 mph, only 5-6 metres apart.
We found our way to the hotel with moderate difficulty, due partly to the usual profusion of one-way streets, but also to some confusion over the name of the hotel. It was by far the most expensive hotel we have stayed in on this trip, partly because of advice by our primary guide book that we should stay in the French Quarter for reasons of personal safety and partly because many cheaper hotels were fully booked. It confirmed our dislike of luxurious hotels, not because of the high cost per se, but because it gave poor value for money unless one wanted to be pampered by obsequious staff, which we did not. The basic facilities were no better than those we have encountered at many much cheaper hotels, and exorbitant additional charges were made for facilities, such as internet access and car parking, which we have had free everywhere else we have stayed in the 2 months we have been travelling in the US. Moreover, we never felt unsafe in the areas we walked, outside the French Quarter, so it became apparent that it would have been much more sensible to stay in a cheaper hotel to the west of the French Quarter and to use the convenient and pleasant trolley (tram) or cabs for going places.
Having established ourselves in a manner to which we are wholly unaccustomed, we wandered into the nearby streets of the French Quarter. The famed Bourbon Street turned out to be a chaotic, raucous and tawdry area full of people in party spirit overflowing from bars, cheap restaurants and strip joints. We found an oasis in a somewhat quieter courtyard bar, where we sat with a civilised and appreciative audience, listening to the excellent Steamboat Willy, singing an eclectic range of jazz and blues, backed only by a banjo and bass, while some couples (and a few rather crazy women) danced. He had to pause for 10 minutes while a brass wedding parade passed by, protected by police cars with full flashing regalia.
Friday 13th November
Ignoring the ridiculously expensive breakfast in the hotel, we bought excellent, huge muffulettas, of which we could eat only half while we queued for tickets for a guided tour with the National Park Service. Though linguistically rather pedantic, the young Ranger was informative, and cleverly likened the cultural mix over time in New Orleans to a gumbo, with each ethnic group adding to the flavour but retaining some of its own identity. The waterfront area of the city was busy and pleasant, resembling many Mediterranean ports we have visited.
The remainder of the muffulettas did very well for lunch, so representing extraordinarily good value. Deciding that he was getting rather too shaggy after two months of travel, Philip had a haircut and beard trim by a local barber, who did an excellent job at a very reasonable price.
A 30 minute steam calliope recital, played by a woman on the top deck of SS 'Natchez', and audible over the whole of the French Quarter, announced the imminent start of a steamboat tour.
The 7-mile trip up the river in the stern paddlewheeler, accompanied by a very good commentary, was a pleasant way to spend the sunny afternoon. With the roofs of the houses and other buildings only just visible above the levees, their vulnerability to flooding was immediately obvious (though the immense damage caused by Hurricane Katrina in 2005 resulted from the breaching of the levees around the shores of Lake Pochartrain, rather than those along the river, which actually trapped the 20 feet of water covering the city). It was interesting also to see several barge tugs pushing up to 15 barges (3 abreast, 5 end to end) up the river and the considerable skill of the tug captains in manoeuvering the barges around the tight bend against the very strong current.
A shorter calliope recital ended the cruise as dusk fell over the city. In the evening we had the best meal of our holiday so far in The Court of Two Sisters restaurant, in a quieter street in the French Quarter - excellent food at reasonable prices in a magical setting, served by highly professional but relaxed, friendly staff.
Saturday 14th November
As we drove 120 miles to the northwest of New Orleans for a swamp tour in the Atchafalaya Basin, we saw what we hadn’t been able to on our night drive into New Orleans. The vast areas of marshy land in that corner of Louisiana are crossed by motorways on pillars. The I 10 alone was elevated for at least 60 miles, with the joins between the concrete slabs accounting for the monotonous ‘kerchunk kerchunk’.
We met the operator of the swamp tour underneath the motorway on an island in the swamp and were pleasantly surprised to discover that we were to be the only customers. The business is run by a father and son team, who have lived locally all their lives. Atchafalaya is apparently an American Indian word, meaning long river. The Atchafalaya River distributes some of the water from the Mississippi into the Gulf of Mexico but the Atchafalaya Basin (i.e. the surrounding flood plain) is an area of slow moving bayous (small streams)or still water restrained by levees, some of which are natural. Others were created by oil companies to facilitate oil extraction. Most of the oil rigs have been removed or abandoned, though the pipelines still go through the swamp, underwater.
The water level was about 8 feet above normal, due to recent heavy rainfall in the catchment areas feeding into the Mississppi river. For nearly 4 hours. we cruised slowly between trees and stumps, and through vast mats of water plants, which are gradually choking the waterways through the swamp.
The water-bound cypress trees were draped in long shrouds of grey Spanish moss, evoking eerie images of Miss Haversham’s gloomy and cobweb-infested room. In places the water plant mats were so extensive that the impression was of clumps of tall cypresses in park-like lawns.
We saw numerous species of birds (including anhingas, cormorants, herons, egrets, ibises, raptors, huge pileated woodpeckers,kingfishers, ducks and owls ), as well as monarch butterflies, very large dragonflies and small turtles.
We encountered four alligators, three of which departed so suddenly that we only saw the large splashes, while one small one ignored us while lying on a log in the sunshine to gather warmth.
When our guide wasn’t pointing out wildlife he was picking up rubbish washed in from the Mississippi, while bemoaning the irresponsibility of those who polluted his beloved swamp. Litter wasn’t actually very prevalent or noticeable, but over the course of the morning a sizeable haul of rubbish accumulated in the boat. It was a fascinating and, by turns, relaxing and exciting tour.
At a nearby fish restaurant in a quiet corner of the swamp, where we dropped in for a late lunch, the local cats looked to be as well fed as the customers. Philip was bemused to be addressed as 'my little Englishman' by the ancient Cajun wife of the owner of the restaurant, but he couldn’t fault the accuracy of her observation, though he had some reservations about her use of the possessive pronoun!
Taking a local road back to New Orleans, we passed sugar cane plantations, a sugar production factory, and several massive oil and chemical plants. Though they were impressive and even quite pretty when lit up, like futuristic cities in the sky, they were brutal reminders of the economic exploitation of the delta.
Sunday 15 November
After a frustrating time unsuccessfully trying to sort out the rental of a small motorhome from Dallas, we checked out of the hotel and took the delightful St Charles Avenue streetcar uptown. The area is full of large 19th century mansions, most of which were built by ex-plantation owners. They were in various states of repair and many of them appeared to have been subdivided into apartments. With many large old trees lining the road, a few attractive parks and people out jogging or walking, it was a pleasant upmarket suburban environment not unlike those found in most UK cities. One noticeable difference was that many of the trees were draped with numerous shiny bead necklaces. Their significance was unclear to us.
After a short time sunning ourselves in the rather ordinary park at the streetcar’s northern terminus, we returned downtown and left New Orleans on the I10, for a fast trip into Texas. On this sort of long boring drive, we try to find something on the radio to ease the tedium. Apart from the isolated Public Radio stations, which are largely funded by subscriptions and donations, and provide high-quality music, speech and news programmes, it is mostly a matter of frequency-hopping to find decent music and avoid advertisements. As we have journeyed south, religious radio stations have proliferated, many expounding extraordinarily conservative and, in some cases, extreme right-wing views. While trying to grasp the casual linkage of a loving God with fierce condemnation of due legal process for an accused terrorist (“why waste all that time and money when we could solve the problem with a 50-cent bullet?”), we were astonished to hear a promo "Sharing God's love with Qtips". Having, on a daily basis in my latter professional years, had to discourage parents from sticking Qtips in children’s ears, I marvelled that God’s work could be advanced by their use.
Overnight in Natchitoches, there was very heavy rainfall. We wondered if it might last for forty days and nights.
It has since become clear to us that the bead necklaces in the trees in New Orleans have no particular significance. They simply haven't been removed since they were put there as part of the Mardi Gras celebration
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