The trip down to New Orleans should have been easy. But I fucked up. I wanted to take 55 south to stop at a Waffle House, but I got turned around and 25 miles later I got to the wrong Waffle House, as in the one an exit north of the one I planned on. But it was so fucking good. I hadn't had a good meal since who the fuck knows. Still though, I was in Mississippi, the next leg of my trip. Mississippi is beautiful down 55, trees line the highway the entire way. The entire way.
I had to stop in Jackson to fill up which lead to a huge disappointment. 55 south looked lined up with showers so I figured to go west and down, eventually through Baton Rouge. It was the Natchez Parkway, which turned out to be a state park highway, something I had never heard about before. Too bad the storm I was following (too closely because I got soaked) turned out to be marked with hazards. The first was a BMW that went off the road and deep down a hill into a tree. The sheriff there wasn't so happy the tow truck blocked the road and said I could go around it off the side of the road. It had still been raining hard. I went past and followed the road a couple miles until I saw some more police lights. This time it was a tree crossing the entire road. A chat with a ranger, and I figured I was better off going back onto 55, as this stretch had enough problems. It was another 100 or so miles to the border to Louisiana. All together today I wasted at least 60 miles of being lost, and that is time could have used in my next stop, New Orleans.
Sidebar: I saw an armadillo, it was dead. I also saw two wild dogs earlier too.
The entrance into New Orleans is fantastic. I am a big believer that bridges are the best entrance to any city, but New Orleans takes the cake. 20 miles through swamp, river, and ocean. Little shanties were everywhere along the water. And then the city, which is a mess, got me real lost, through cemeteries, slums, abandoned old buildings, random rainstorms, business buildings, and traffic. None of that mattered after I found my way to the French quarter. So much shit going on! But then I had to find a hotel, and as a brain dead road warrior as myself that was difficult. In the end I found one not too far from the quarter which was perfect. After a long hot shower while stuffing a blow dryer down my boots, standard practice, and I was ready to hit the streets. Bourbon street is your average college party spot meets tourist destination, but no holds barred. Strip clubs were every four spots through the street on both sides, separated by "to-go" bars, live music joints, and high price restaurants. Maison bourbon was my spot. No food, just live music and drinks, perfect. I later got an oyster po-boy from some place only to return to Maison. But now I must sleep so I can go to Birmingham tomorrow.
Beep bop boo bee bop
There is a lot more than just Bourbon street in the French Quarter, but at night it is lit by gas lamps and is dark and sketchy.
Bourbon street, with it's multi tiered balconies, passed out drunks, and church groups trying to save souls.
Whiskey
Somewhere in New Orleans as I was getting lost not realizing google maps had flipped around on me.
Outside of Jackson Mississippi: "You shall not pass!"
I was worried about the rain, but it all pretty much cleared up by the time I hit it.
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