Day 34: Pearlington to New Orleans: It rained all night the day I left, the weather it was dry

February 7, 2014

We let Bruce sleep all the way to 7:00 a.m., since he really had not been too thrilled with our 5:00 a.m. proposal. Bruce really is an excellent cook, and he prepared for us a full breakfast of fried eggs, potatoes, bacon, and toast. This is he breakfast that gives me the most cycling boost, though Dodie would be happy to eat endless oatmeal. Yeecch, gluey!

We hung around until at least 9:30, making it a much later start than has been our custom. However, New Orleans - our objective - was not all that distant, ending up as a modest 66 km ride.

From a photo on sam's wall, the house where we stayed, with a FEMA number painted on it. Helpful, Sam said, for tracking how many dead bodies might be inside.

Sam (second from left) with some volunteers who helped restore the house. This is also from a photo on Sam's wall

Breakfast as prepared by Bruce - great cycling food, I think

Very quickly on leaving, we entered Louisiana. Yeah, state number four!

As we pedalled along US 90, down to where one would make a turn if heading for Slidell, we thought about how it would have been doing it yesterday in the cold rain. We concluded that it would have been brutal. Today, though in the morning there was ice on our bikes, we had reasonable temperatures and no rain, making the same ride totally routine.

We had a surprise, as Wilson, who we had met several days ago on his trip from Florida to Austin, came up behind us. Now Wilson had zoomed on ahead those days ago, so why were we in the lead? Bike troubles had held him up. We were fascinated to learn where he had been and where he had stayed, since his path was exactly ours over the time period. We found that he had camped beside the Farynaz's at the campground on Dauphin Island, and that he had stayed in the Holiday Inn at Long Beach. We had rejected the campground as too cold and damp looking, and the Holiday Inn as too expensive. I was proud to show off my knowledge of the Holiday Inn: $139 ocean side and $109 for the back side. No, Wilson corrected me, $149 ocean side. What fun to compare notes like that!

The turn for Slidell (which now we did not need to take, since we could proceed to New Orleans rather than go off route to find a motel) right at the bridge over the tail end of Lake Pontchartrain. This of course is the famous lake that forms the north boundary of New Orleans. The city is sandwiched between that and the Mississippi. As we crossed here on US90, we could see I-10 in the distance. The I-10 bridge is extremely long, miles long. We were glad to be going the way we were.

Now we entered a land bridge with Pontchartrain on one side and Lake Borgne on the other, eventually entering the Bayou Sauvage wildlife area. While the houses on stilts provided some interest in the first part of this, the wildlife area really did not even hint that it might conceal wildlife. Beyond this, the road was bordered by scattered used tire, car repair, scrap yard, and suchlike businesses. Boring as that might be, there was a good shoulder and we just cranked along.

The I-10 twin spans near Slidell. This bridge mostly fell down in Katrina

Look Joni, really strong concrete pylons

A nice house with its pylons concealed a bit

Typical houses 30 km east of New orleans

See the remains of the supports of houses that once stood beside these

This one was never restored - note the airplane

Many houses on the beach here and further east on the Gulf too had signs depicting a whimsical name for the house, and often the date of construction. Note that this one has been "re-established"

As we drew closer to the city we passed a dozen or so small motels, presumably the ones we had been warned off of. We also saw a number of ruined buildings, motels, condos and the like. Clearly these had been heavily damaged in the hurricane and never restored. Lots of fast food restaurants, car dealerships and similar followed. Too soon our shoulder disappeared in favour of a second lane, and in due course, three lanes. Meanwhile, there was no sidewalk.

The traffic intensified, and soon we were passing near, under, or by elevated expressways. This is the landscape, in our opinion at its worst in Houston, where the automobile has total dominance over everything. There is no place for people or bicycles, and even those in automobiles must be a bit uncomfortable negotiating the high speed wasteland.

We went up on a bridge, pushing our bikes in the debris strewn shoulder. At one point the shoulder was occupied by two police cars and two large trucks, one trying to tow the other with a belt. From the top we surveyed the mess. We were surprised to see in the distance the high rise skyline of a big city. We had been totally unaware that New Orleans was in fact a high rise place. Everything we had ever seen about it focused on the French Quarter, or the flood damaged wards.

Where high speed traffic swoops on or off a road by way of ramps, the danger for cyclists is very great. Naturally we used great caution, but the noise and the stress was tiring. This was so much contrary to my image of what New Orleans was. Why had we come here, if it was going to be this??

Eventually a bike lane did appear, but it was continually crossed over by vehicles turning right, or entering from our right. We put on all our flashers and made eye contact with every driver who might turn into us or cross in front of us.

Finally things calmed down a bit, I believe we were in the seventh ward. Many houses here were in poor condition but at least they were interesting.

Sidewalk riding east of New Orleans. It got worse than this for us soon.

First look at the high rise city we did not know was here.

We stopped and turned on Google Maps. It threw up quite a few red dots representing places to stay. I put my finger on one, and drew the New Orleans Courtyard Hotel. We called and were quoted the reasonable rate for a city spot, of $119. And in fact, the hotel was just a few blocks from where we made the call, and right on the edge of the French Quarter.

When we arrived, we were most pleased to find that they had secure storage for our bikes, lots of advice about the French Quarter, a gorgeous heritage building, and a room for us with a four poster bed and other real furniture. After the noise and stress of the ride in, we had landed on our feet in an elegant and restful place.

We lost no time in heading out for a quick look at this famous Quarter that had drawn us to the city. Immediately our spirits took another leap. We felt back in Europe. Almost car free streets filled with interesting small houses. We walked down Urselines street, crossing famous Bourbon, and made our way to Coop's Place, a small restaurant bar that had been recommended for its authentic dishes. We got seafood gumbo, red beans and rice, rabbit sausage jambalaya, shrimp creole, and cajun fried chicken. Clearly, we were eager to try it all, right now! The flavours and spiciness were something new to us. Quite overwhelming in one go. At first maybe it seemed too spicy, but soon one got used to it and it was great. Later the lady at the hotel desk explained that Coop's had carefully crafted their recipes to be acceptable (spicy enough) to locals, but no so spicy as to drive away tourists. For us, anyway, they hit it just right.

Coop's offers no desserts, so we jumped the gun on what we had planned to do tomorrow, following advice from Bill Waters in the Guestbook. We made our way to Cafe du Monde for Beignets and Cafe au Lait and hot chocolate. This may be the best known place in the French Quarter. Its many tables are swarming with waiters and waitresses, and we could give our order immediately. The menu is extremely limited, comprising beignets, and mainly coffee.

While the beignets were good alright, they were nowhere near as good as the ones we had gotten at Joe Patti's. Rather, they were heavier, not hollow, and greasier. The coffee, though, was excellent, even if not espresso.

From Cafe du Monde we made our way back in the direction of the hotel. The area by the cafe featured some street musicians and numerous souvenir shops, plus a cigar shop, a hookah shop, and the famous Central Grocery. One saxophone playing musician sang and played "You Are My Sunshine", and after Dodie told him that her Dad always used to sing that for her. He answered wisely that he could feel Dad's presence.

A rather outrageously dressed fellow selling artwork on the sidewalk addressed us as we walked by, and we soon learned that he had lived 18 years in Paris, but refused to sell at Montmartre. We enjoyed speaking with him in French, though he seemed to have taken a little too much drink, or maybe something more.

So that's who we came to New Orleans and what we have seen so far. Tomorrow we plan to walk as much of the place as possible, and in the evening go with Dave and Marieanne (who live nearby and who we met in Florida) to find some Cajun music!

From the Cajun fried chicken clockwise: shrimp creole, rabbit and sausage jambalaya, and red beans with rice

Today's ride: 66 km (41 miles)
Total: 1,993 km (1,238 miles)

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