California Roadtrip Day: 2 Wednesday

Everyone gets up pretty early and refreshed, so without any problems we eat breakfast and make our way to New Orleans. We leave Jacksonville, pass Tallahassee, then drive through the next 2 states in a jiffy. For me it was nothing too astonishing... I've done the drive from Miami to Dallas with Darryl billions of times during the last 3 years so this was all old history. Pete and Andy enjoyed the view though. Andy was really amazed that the rest of south-east America wasn't like greater Miami or 95 North.

Finally, just as the sun was going to sleep, we come upon the little town called Slidell, Louisiana. Diane had suggested we stay there during a small talk on my last week of work... she did her own trip to California when she was my age and she remembered that it was a nice little stop just a few minutes from the party-side of New Orleans.

She was right. It was really refreshing dropping the U-haul off at the hotel for a change. ( It was good on our gas bill, as well. ) When we got to Bourbon Street we found a lucky parking spot a block away from all the action... and the rest, as we say, is history.

Music, booze, & nudity galore!

Seriously- it's a charming town. Darryl and I had gone there with Lacy and Michelle last September on a crusade to run away from the 4 hurricanes rummaging through Miami. The buildings and streets are like something out of a movie. Cobblestone and iron combined with old french buildings and street lamps... if you can only imagine. Then down Bourbon Street there's nothing but balconies full of happy crowds, jazz music blazing out from every door, bars taking over the streets, and happy costumed locals and visitors alike. Peter was blushing from the perverse pictures lining the various windows of sleaze clubs and gentlemen hang-outs. Andy was laughing at the many girls mooning us post-Mardi Gras from the balconies.

After walking up the street and seeing the sights we found a nice restaurant right on the walk and had some jumbo, shrimp creole, and other types of hot New Orleans plates. And, let me tell you, it was damn good. The more money you spend on the food the more it is worth it. We digested our meals at a gritty jazz bar next door, dark and filled with cinnamony smoke from the patrons inside, lively and cool to match the all-black, all-soul band on stage. The men (a pianist, drummer, sax player, and guitarist) were in bow ties and slacks, while the big, valumptous black bertha on the mic shimmered in her red dress and matching red boa.

Awesome. If you ever have any extra time, I suggest you spend it there.

The rest of the night was spent bar-hopping and gift-shopping. We topped the experience with an eerie drive through the above-ground cemeteries in the French Quarter, enjoyed a little taste of the local scum after literally driving through a drug bust, then went back to Slidell and called it a (fat & satisfied) night.

(On to Day 3!... Tomorrow)