Twelve Years a Slave and Roots are but appetizers (NOLA day #2)

Imagine.

It is 3:00 in the morning and a grand brass bell rings over the fertile delta.
"git up" your pappy says, nudging you with his worn boot. "Ya'll got cane to cut".

You will work until 11:00 am.  In heat so stifling it killed many of the first French settlers - the ancestors of the people who own you, your family, and everyone you will ever know.  The second shift of the say will start in a few hours and last until the sun sets.

Imagine.

This is the "LauraPlantation".  It survives because of the original slave cabins.  This is also the site where the famous Br'er rabbit and the tar baby story was recorded.

The bright yellow and blue seem odd to us - thinking of the "American style" white plantations.  Many of which are just down the street.  This is a Creole plantation - and they were very colorful and only French was spoken within the walls.

This home may have housed 600 slaves at its height (there were no accurate records once the Americans took over the Louisiana purchase).

Original slave cabins

The owners were not kind.  They branded their property, sold them when the price was right or they felt inclined, and worked them to death.  It was not a good life.

The owners did spend a large sum to take photos of each slave before the Civil War ended.  It is one of the few surviving collections of photos from slaves at a plantation.

These slaves harvested sugar cane.

We had only eaten English muffins before heading to a French plantation, so we thought we'd try American food. Just down the block from Laura's is B&C Seafood.  I'd been looking for a place like this.  Back country, plastic tables, wait staff who talk like they have marbles in their mouth....

Well, this is the place!

I had craw fish (boiled).  They say "Eat the tail and suck the head".  Then they giggle a bit....  I will have you know I did both and it was delicious.

I also had an oyster Po Boy and Dixie beer.  I felt very white.

Marci had a muffaleta hamburger, fries, and a beer of her own.

Back woods YUM!

Ate in for dinner.  Gonna rest up a bit.

Night, y'all....

Why tourists willingly drop $5.5 billion a year (NOLA - Day 1)

We were up early.

The lemon tree (that's right folks, we have our own citrus tree!) is a local favorite for the miniature winged locals.  The tree burst with life at about 6:30, and we were happy to hear them.

We crossed the street to the neighborhood coffee shop and injected strong southern caffeine into our veins.

The Community Coffee shop across the street

After some strong brew and buttery croissant, we gathered our things and headed for the French Market.

What a treat!

If you haven't been, this should be on your bucket list.  Warm people, great food, sights, smells, sounds, the French Quarter (and especially the French Market on Sunday) has it all!

We truly enjoyed the bustle, warm weather, and French architecture.

And there is music EVERYWHERE!

After lunch - and a whole lote of walking, we decided to take a drive.  We went over to the lake (Pontchartrain) and drove to Mississippi.  It was lush, swampy, and really fun to see.  We listened to a James Lee Burke book (set in New Orleans) and had a relaxing time seeing the deep wouth.

We drove past AMAZING powder white sand beaches in Mississippi (and cannot figure out why thousands of people are not flocking here).  The beach front homes are the most beautiful we've ever seen.  Stately, not gaudy like Miami or wierd like California, just - southern.  Love this architecture!

We were treated to a beautiful sunset as we drove back over the lake into New Orleans.

We ended our long day on Bourbon street (loud and crazy for sure) and then headed back to our quaint cottage for bed.

What a great day!

Evening arrival in the deep south (arrival day - part II)

We are here.

And you can tell.  The south is distinct - a tempo all its own. Humid gulf air, spikes of Cajun spice, and hints of jazz.

The speech is slow, deliberate, d-r-a-w-n out.  You can close your eyes and relish great meaning by listening to the syllables.  There is less emphasis placed on what is said - you listen to how its said.

Our flight was late, but getting out of the airport was a snap.  The sun was setting over runway 10/29.  At 4 foot above sea level - the last rays of sun glisten off yesterdays pouring rain.

The highlight was arriving at our rented home for the week.  It is called the "Jazz Cottage" just west of the famous French Quarter (http://www.vrbo.com/287384).
Our host, Bob Hanna was a gem to meet and listen to.  He showed us around and gave us  pointers about the great southern city.

We looked around, grabbed a quick cajun meal (the Creole Cottage on Esplanade) and slipped into bed.  Nice place - can't wait to explore!

Laissez les bons temps rouler! in the BIG EASY

Spring Break is a magical phrase in the world of education.  It signals a hope that it just may be possible to outlast the little villains until the heat of summer rolls over the great plains and pushes its way over the mountain tops.

You see, since Christmas, the weather has been steadily improving, tender shoots of green grass beckon, and even flowers have been pushing their way through the snow.  To us, in the balanced adult world, this is a promise of things to come.  To a student, it means that a jail break is imminent.
This morning, just mere hours after parole was granted, Marci's dad Jerry stopped by for breakfast.  It was fun to listen to he and Josh banter about the state of America, animal care (Josh is caring for Marci's new kitty), and whether power lapses in foreign cars are more likely due to soiled filters or the inability to accommodate oxygenated fuels.  You say eclectic?

And now we are at the Airport.  The sign has been lit, the seats are assigned, and we have settled into the cozy (yeah right) concourse chairs to await our aerial chariot.

The airport is pretty quiet on a Saturday afternoon.  The lines were short and most folks are dozing as they head home from a Spring Break on the Colorado slopes.

Our flight was delayed, but no bother to us!  Marci has carefully selected a pile of brain food for the week.  She has already started with 5280 magazine (which arrived last night), and I saw her sniff the back of the new book she bought in the concourse (its a thing with Marci and books).  I'll have you know, I never sniff my Kindle.

I, as usual during our undaunted travels, have started the blog so that you all may follow.  You might even live vicariously as we sip a Sazerac at the Roosevelt Hotel, or sample America's best fried chicken at Willie Mae's.  Wanna stroll with us in an ancient cemetary?  Or pick up a voodo doll as we dabble in the black arts?

C'mon and join us in a city so unique it doesn't feel like America...  My camera will be busy and my fingers will fly.  And if you see something you like, want to suggest a favorite place, or just wanna say hi, make sure to comment!

We remain~ undaunted.