Today has been icing the cake day, c;eaning day and getting final things ready day so no scrapping - but there is a journal entry from us both
Monday 27th November 2017
Nottoway to New Orleans
Start time 8.00
Start miles 16400
End time 6.00
End miles 16490
Total miles travelled 90
This one is for you, Daddy.
New Orleans has always been a magical sounding place to me ever since I can remember, and the reason is simple. Daddy went there when he was in the navy and said it was terrific. He talked about the music and the atmosphere and I had always wanted to go visit it because of him. When we started planning the Deep South tour, it was the one place I absolutely knew had to be in there. So I woke with great excitement, knowing this was the day. Actually I woke with another blooming horn blasting. The trains had been sounding their horns all night. It was the 5.30 quintet that did for me. Why did they have to sound them four or five times ... One was enough to wake the dead. Who else were they trying to warn.
We knew we couldn't go to breakfast until seven so we took yet more pictures of the room before getting ready for NOLA day.
Breakfast was in the main house, as we were, and was really very good, though little miss 'no, it goes there' wasn't quite a ray of sunshine. The real sun, however, was shining again and we sat in the curved breakfast room of the rotunda with glass, floor to ceiling, and views of the beautiful gardens; the Scarlett moments lived on for a while. We enjoyed the view, alongside the cereal, fresh fruit, pancakes, bacon, eggs and ... In my case, biscuit. On the way back to the room to collect then cases we couldn't resist one more visit to the White room. It was stunning in the early morning light.
Satiated and excited, we checked out of the luxury of Nottaway, saying farewell to the receptionist who has to be one of the truly gracious southern belles. She was just delightful to chat to and, once we accustomed ourselves to it, her spectacular southern drawl was just beautiful. We were on our way to what I hoped would be a spectacular destination.
We passed over another great bridge across the Mississippi, this one seeming even steeper than the previous bridges. We also passed endless sugar cane fields and a couple of huge refineries. What on earth do they do with all of the sugar? We even took a brief detour into a proper Louisiana bayou and swamp country, laughing at the signs for gator crossings and gator sausages ... Presumably the gators didn't make the crossing successfully. I had to laugh that the primitive wooden signs warning of said gators were adorned with festive red velvet bows. Now THAT was photo worthy.
We also marvelled at the lengthy raised road that crossed endless swampy waters as we neared New Orleans ... How ever did they build it in such an environment? It was quite spectacular.
We found the hotel really easily and valet parked. I have a real loathing of valet parking. I always feel under pressure to be really quick, to have the car looking spick and span, to be thought of as organized and prepared. I was none of those things. I was busy navigating and the valet crept up on us quickly and quietly. Not so the valet guys! The valets were chatty and efficient, but in the eagerness to strip the car of all luggage and my panic that they might see the sat nav (no idea why that worried me) I left my camera in the car. I hate valet parking but sometimes, in cities where the parking is off-site, there is no option. We checked in, amazed that our room was ready even though it was only 10 am, and the room was lovely ... A king suite with a separate lounge area and a wet bar. I realized, as we were about to set out and explore, I didn’t have the camera and we had a half hour wait whilst I panicked and hyperventilated. Camera returned thanks to the charming valet guys who really were lovely, and we set off to explore the city, primarily the French Quarter.
We walked through the French Quarter, along Royal Street and I loved the vibe. Our first stop was the Monteleone Hotel with the beautiful foyer and the carousel bar. I had read about the Monteleone and had even checked it out as a possible accommodation but it was beyond our price range – and some. It was impressive even from the street with that class and style that money brings. We initially went in the take pictures because I wanted to see the Carousel bar ... Much to the disgust of the bellman ... But ended up having cocktails which were delicious. We are not really drinkers and can count on one hand the times we have a drink at lunchtime (OK so not even lunchtime – it wasn’t even 11 am) but it just seemed the right thing to do. Nigel had a sickly sweet pina colada (I really don’t like sweet drinks) and I enjoyed a Tin Cup Milk Punch which was delicious. We felt almost like real grown-up tourists! It was always going to be a treat day.
From there we managed a few hundred yards and a dozen pictures before we saw Cafe Beignet. It was on our list so, of course we stopped and tried these delicious New Orleans pastries. They were lush but oh my ... I have never seen so much icing sugar in my life. Clearly the sugar cane fields and refineries were needed just to keep the beignet business going. And so suitable that we were wearing black – we looked like we had been through a snow storm and the more we patted the stuff away the more it became white smudges rather than sprinkles. Eventually we managed to make ourselves look reasonably presentable before venturing back out to the streets.
The French Quarter was beautiful, bizarre, and so photogenic. The buildings were hard to capture as the streets were narrow and the light all over the place ... But that didn’t stop us trying. I felt safe in the area and loved the vibe. There were endless street musicians ... ,musicians with attitude with clarinets, saxophones, even a double bass ... And the music was good. Listening to live jazz as we walked the streets was just somehow very very right.
We were given free soap... Bizarre ... And how odd ... We met the people from the plantation again. What are the chances of meeting people who were from Southampton and had stayed in 'our room' the night before and then meeting them again 100 miles away on the streets of New Orleans? Probably slightly better odds than when Daddy met his brother, Uncle Len, there when they were both on different ships that just happened to dock at the same place at the same time during the war. Must be a NOLA thing!!
The beautiful french quarter in warm November sunshine
We walked to the river front, getting helpful advice from the tourist centre, and along the riverfront to Jackson Square, stopping for beignets at Cafe Du mode which we had been told we absolutely had to visit. The beignets were nicer, but eating them outdoors with a breeze and even more powdered sugar than before meant a white snowstorm covering our all black outfits. The pigeons there must have a serious sugar addiction as they were everywhere. I am surprised they could still get airborne.
I was flagging with a very sore toe and knee and so we tried to get a cycle cab to the street car which was our next must do thing, but it was a no go so we hobbled. Thankfully there was a Starbucks on the corner ... We were good to go!
The streetcar, an historic NOLA attraction, was great fun. For just $3 each you could ride all day. We picked the Charles street line as it said it went past lots of antebellum houses and boy did it. We sat glued to the windows, snapping away ... And some of the pictures we took even showed the houses, not just the trees and lampposts. We were so engrossed that the Japanese ladies opposite us asked if we were architects!!! Too funny.
We rode it from one end to the other and back again, a good hour and half round trip to rest our weary feet, before getting off and walking to the Hard Rock. We did our retail, therapy and even I bought something because it was New Orleans and because I wanted something to remind me of it, and we popped back to the hotel before returning to eat at the Hard Rock. This one looked more like a Hard Rock Cafe and they had a great set up to take pictures. It was just like being at home playing band with me on drums and Nigel on guitar. So much fun.
Dinner was eaten, and after being accosted on a construction zone Bourbon Street, and Nigel didn't even want the beads, we headed back to chill, catch up on downloads and uploads and just relax. What a great day.
Thank you, Daddy, for leading me to New Orleans... You would have been proud. I loved the city.
Monday 27th November 2017.
TO NEW ORLEANS
THE HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN
Waking up at sunrise in these finely preserved surroundings is memorable. First off it requires a footstool just to disembark from the bed! The timber floor boards seem slightly austere and the bathroom could be modelled on something straight out of ‘one flew over the cuckoo’s nest!’ Lovely as it is, we both decide to give the tub a miss this morning and press on.
Descending the stairs seems adventurous with still no body around. Down two flights to the previously unexplored basement is where we find the breakfast area. It proves to be surprisingly large and as we are first to arrive we have the choice of seats. The prime spot is in (and below) the spectacular rotunda which is fully glazed here and looks out onto the gardens. It makes for a picturesque spot and the phones and cameras are put to good use again. The server is a little uninspiring but the food is plentiful and good so we are well satisfied when we set off.
Negotiating the narrow elevator with all our bags (which had been delivered to the room yesterday) is something of an art and requires two trips. As we finalise our departure I note that Bob has kept his vigil all night while we slept and yet is still seemingly alert at his post.
He is awaiting his relief though and as we step outside his wish is granted and the helpful receptionist from yesterday is ready to resume her post as she passes us on her way in.
We exchange pleasantries and she is thrilled that we enjoyed our stay.
We feel a little sad to be leaving Nottaway behind but it has been a unique and special experience. One that will remain long in the memory and climb high in our list of favourite hotels.
We drive away on route a to New Orleans that will take us alongside the Mississippi and as we go we have a new appreciation for the area and especially the levy and how it was created. It is now easy to see the location of the river just by glimpsing the embankment.
Passing through White Castle we are struck by the contrast in accommodations away from the plantation. There are a number of rather run-down motels that look like the sort of place that murderers might be hiding out or, worse still, that murders might actually be committed here!
A little further on, this theory seems to be chillingly supported by the existence of several roadside graveyards. We smile to each other about the prospect and quickly dismiss the possibilities.
Heavy industry is also a feature in these parts, obviously utilising the convenience of the river. We deduce that, as the principle crop is sugar cane in the surrounding plantations, the huge factories are in fact sugar refineries. On such a massive scale, it's hard to imagine how such bulk can possibly be consumed!
As we continue to travel South we really start to notice that the terrain is getting wetter! All around us, there are large tracts of water and swamp. In fact, in several places, the roads are constructed over the water to form great long bridges. Karen is on high alert now for alligators but, sadly, none are coming out to play today.
Leaving the interstate for gas, we decide to try and find a quiet area that might yield some photographs of typical swamp land. Karen has studied the map and is convinced that there is an area ‘just around the bend’ that would be perfect. We detour and drive a short way you could say I am ‘driving her round the bend’ I suppose but at least its in a good way today!
Sure enough we take a turn to the right off of an already smaller road to an even smaller one – in fact barely a road at all. It was a driveway, it seemed, but to a lakeside café although from the signs along the roadside it was unlikely to tempt us to taste the fayre! The first one simply announced ‘Alligator Crossing’ which was fair enough, however, when we saw the next one we were a touch confused. ‘Alligator Sausage!’ it said. Unsure if this was a description of a menu item or what happens if a car doesn’t heed the first warning we are about ready to turn about. Of course we stop to take pictures of the sign along with the swampy roadside puddles that seem to capture Louisiana so well.
The I-10 Interstate is really an engineering marvel in this area. As we near New Orleans we see the skyline in the distance yet it is across water. Lots of it. In any other circumstances you would imagine developers would simply ‘give up’ trying as a road would seem impossible. Not to be thwarted, these guys have created a miracle. Contrary to sanity they have not only bridged the swamp but have engineered a superhighway with multiple lanes, on and off ramps, junctions and flyovers that remind us of spaghetti junction at home, yet all of it is over water and it stretches for miles!. It was like building a road system way out in the ocean.
Incredulous at how this might have been achieved we get ever closer to our target and soon we are into the outer limits of New Orleans.
As it happens, we are on a direct course for our hotel, situated just adjacent to the French Quarter, it is easy to find and with the help of some careful navigation we are approaching down a narrow street. It appears we are also approaching from the back of the hotel. We are suddenly upon the sign for the valet park, which is the only option when arriving by car. We draw breath and steal ourselves, ready to be hassled or hustled and quite possibly both, but there was no need to worry.
As suddenly as we had seen the entrance, once stopped, we are surrounded by the hotel valet team headed by Donovan who is obviously the spokesperson. He is actually charming and without hurry he helps us and seems genuinely impressed with our tour itinerary (which is prominently displayed on our jackets!) he is happy to take care of the luggage and for once I am happy to let him, even if his little entourage has all the appearance of the gang of crows from the film ‘Jungle Book’.
Turns out Donovan is a top man. Having omitted to take Karen’s camera out of the vehicle with us, and on learning of our error after the car has been dispatched, he immediately offers to go and retrieve it. Which he does albeit after quite a wait as the garage is some 15 mins away! It’s a happy ending though and our impression of the hotel and the staff is greatly enhanced by these guys genuine desire to help.
After check-in and bags safely delivered to our room we depart for the French Quarter exploration on foot.
After Memphis we are on red alert for any edginess but it is apparent that this is quite different. Whilst not the most salubrious area there is a charm that is starting to emerge and we soon relax in the now warm air, comfortable that this will be a good experience.
Almost immediately we come across the Hard Rock Café, just one block away and our chosen eatery for tonight. We say “Hi” to the door greeters and joke with them that we will be coming back later. As we cross the street we spot the Hotel Monteleone which activates Karen’s radar and sends an alert that sounds something like, “OhlookIreallywannaseeinsidethere” The hotel is clearly one of the most prestigious in the City and apparently is home to the ‘Carousel Bar’ a rather neat, circular, revolving (very slow) sit-up bar.
We decide to venture in through the first door we come across. At first we are rather wary taking photos in this lobby, a place that we didn’t seem to quite belong. It is opulent and the Christmas decorations are amazing with trees and garlands festooned with a million white sparkling lights! Next, our attention is grabbed by the carousel bar which just happens to be right there, where we have entered the building.
Throwing caution to the wind, I hear myself saying, “Let’s have a drink!” something rather unheard of for us in any circumstances but, heck, we are on our holidays!
We choose our seats taking care not to sit too close to patrons who look like they know what they are doing and just like two kids in an establishment for ‘grown-ups’ we peruse the cocktail menu.
Cocktails in hand we sip and admire the surroundings. Very much themed to be like a fairground merry-go-round it is enchanting. Of course pictures are needed and having imbibed a little alcohol (half a cocktail each) our inhibitions lower enough to stand proud and snap pictures of each other from the other side of the circle. It’s a memorable moment and perhaps, in just a tiny way, helps to relax us for the remainder of our walk.
What to do after a little drinkie? Well I suppose we must sample the much fabled beignets of New Orleans. Almost without breaking our step we happen upon Royal Street’s Café Beignet and Karen’s radar is off again. “OhlookIreallywanttotryoneofthose” it screams. So with our renewed courage we go inside.
The reality is somewhat disappointing. Although heralded as a place to go the cafeteria itself is little more than a narrow covered alleyway. It is somewhat dingy inside with its blue painted brickwork and arched ceiling and whilst I had been advised that the beignet was a local specialty not to be missed, I was actually not entirely sure what it was we would be sampling! It transpires this is something along the line of a donut hiding under a monstrous layer of powdered sugar that is so exaggerated it has an almost Trump like appearance!
The delicacy is made to order and comes in three’s so we duly wait. It actually is pleasant enough though the experience is marred a little by the powdered sugar. These treats need to be consumed in silence as even the slightest breeze causes the sugar to coat not just the beignet but your face hands arms and your entire clothing. Luckily we are wearing black so it’s easy to spot where it’s landed! We are quickly learning why the Mississippi requires so much sugar production! – It’s everywhere!
Brushing off the evidence, we emerge back into our route where strains of street music start to filter through.
We almost dodge the various invitations to enter other establishments selling fragrance and soaps although one such ‘host’ manages to lure us in with a free sample. We manage to get away though and I have to admit it was easier than anticipated, I think the girl was new to her role!
Further along, the source of the music is in plain sight with an impromptu jazz quartet serenading passers-by who are pausing to take pictures, some even dropping coins into the hat. It makes for a good photo so I take my time to compose several shots and leave a dollar as a mark of respect.
At this point I become aware that Karen is talking vigorously to a ‘would-be stranger’ on the sidewalk. It transpires this is the couple we had met at Nottaway the previous day and have happened upon again in a complete chance meeting. We reflect on the odds of such a meeting and with people who live but thirty miles away at home and then Karen reminds me that it was in this very place that her father had such a remarkable encounter with his brother when they both happened to arrive in New Orleans, from separate sources, during the war and walked into each other totally by chance! Maybe there is something about this place?
Our walk continues amongst charming French Quarter features, The corn stalk fence, more street musicians, the iron balconys, narrow streets and the classic architecture. As we reach the river frontage Karen’s radar goes into action again having identified Café DuMonde which was heralded as a place to sample beignets.
Again the reality is a little disappointing when we see that it is largely an open air courtyard with a covered roof and pretty crowded. Servers are well distributed and quickly take our order. We repeat our order for three of these treats along with a soda and they are very similar to the previous examples. Now, wiser and taking much more care with the powdered sugar, we manage to consume most of it and only my trousers look as if they have come fresh from a talcum powder factory! Unashamed and noticing that many of the other patrons have the same appearance we chuckle and head back onto the street.
Now in front of Jackson Square we stop to admire St Louis Cathedral. It looks almost modern in its construction and might not be out of place at Disneyland! Snapping pictures is a must and the best view is obtained from across the street and atop the steps. This also affords us the chance to check out the docking area for the Natchez riverboat which we will be riding on tomorrow morning. Car parking will be the potential problem but we discover a large parking lot adjacent to the boarding area although spaces look to be limited.
We will need to plan our strategy carefully.
Growing rather weary on our feet, we decide to take a tram ride for further exploration. We have learnt that the tram stop we need is still a goodly walk away so we pick up the pace and make tracks. Our target is to get to our next rest stop, the Starbucks which is on the corner of the street we require.
Inside we take a rest and a couple of large drinks when I realise that I haven’t seen a tram pass by in a while and that there must be one due. I encourage Karen to finish up and after a loo visit that requires at least two attempts to gain the access code to the restroom we exit towards the tram stop. As we turn down the street the tram duly appears and I have to jog briskly ahead to be sure and stop it in time. Actually, when I get there, I observe there is a line of three or four people already in place to do that but, no matter, the tram is not stopping anyway! I look surprised, through my breathlessness, but the locals reassure me that there is one almost immediately behind.
Sure enough the following tram comes to a halt and we board and purchase a day ticket which gives 24hr access to all the tram routes (and buses, I believe) for a mere three bucks each. Seated in seats, each with a window, we enjoy the calm ride through the suburbs taking in magnificent avenues with impressive antebellum houses and mansions. The route takes in the University, the public park and gardens as well as the zoo and lasts around forty minutes each way as we travel there and back to rest our legs.
With help from a fellow passenger on the return leg we are able to identify precisely where to alight that leaves us just about two blocks to walk back to the hotel as dusk descends.
Tonight is our final visit to our Hard Rock Café collection. After a short break we don slightly warmer clothes for the short walk back to the restaurant. Amazingly, the door greeters from earlier are still on duty and more amazingly they remember us and welcome us back! Inside, we agree it is the nicest of those we have visited this trip and we settle in a comfortable table in familiar surroundings. After all, remember “we know what we like and we like what we know!”
Before the food arrives I spot the photo opportunity that has been so carefully provided. There is a stage complete with drum kit and guitar set out beneath the large Hard Rock New Orleans logo beautifully lit and just begging for a couple of willing volunteers. Well we have ONE in our party of two, I’m not sure about the other but I believe I can convince her!
I confirm with our server that the set-up is actually for taking photos and this is enough to convince Karen to go along with it. She sits behind the drum kit, her instrument of choice, as I wield the guitar in what I hope might look like realistic looking action shot. Our server graciously takes several photos without sniggering at my performance and before I feel too self-conscious in front of the other diners.
The evening is almost complete after we have eaten but we need to take a look along Bourbon Street which is directly opposite the café. Construction is taking place so the roadway is no longer accessible due to heavy screens along each sidewalk. We venture to the mouth of the abyss and take a few photos but are reluctant to go much further. After just a few moments we are joined by a couple of ‘street guys’ who are hustling tourists. They are encouraging Karen to have a great time and celebrate in Mardis Gras style including accepting their ‘gift’ of beads! In a moment she is wearing three strings of these plastic garlands around her neck and the pitch suddenly changes to one of begging. Karen kindly responds with a dollar bill as a further three strings are placed onto me. We aim to get away from them but apparently a dollar is not acceptable to the man who suggests a five be more appropriate. As I hate this type of intimidation I hand them back with a curt response that I didn’t want them anyway and we turn tail for the hotel. He calls after us that he didn’t mean to offend and I am genuinely undecided if this was true or if he simply was trying to re-engage us. Perhaps it’s me?
The hotel is our safe haven, Its large comfortable room complete with a sitting area is a serene space and we settle down to reflect on our day in a city of the United States that we had both (especially Karen) longed to visit. Any fears of disappointment were dispelled and we are eagerly anticipating tomorrow and our chance to ride on a real Mississippi riverboat. It has been a good day in New Orleans although we never did see the house they call ‘The Rising Sun’.
