Recently over spring break week our adventurous
souls and curious minds led us on an exciting travel excursion down the
Mississippi, along the famous Blues Hwy 61, through the Mississippi Delta, and
into that amazing hodge-podge of French, Creole and Southern influence...the
texture of Europe, the taste of Creole, and the many sights, sounds and smells
of the American South...but unlike any other part of the American South either
of us had ever experienced - that great city of New Orleans!
We were blessed on our journey by the
companionship of our friend and travel-mate Charles, who, having spent
significant amounts of time in New Orleans himself over the years, was able to
be the perfect guide for us in the city.
Charles is a remarkable individual in Bloomington
whom it has been our privilege and pleasure to be-friend. Out of a chance
encounter in the library between Daniel and Charles have emerged hours upon
hours of conversation on a wide range of topics, everything under the sun from Cyperpunk to Catholicism and its social visions; theology, ethics and culture
and the history of the Jacobite revolution; philosophical anarchism in its many
forms and the minute of details of various novels and films; the recitation of
good poetry, often with a glass of Jameson in hand, toasted with glee "to
the King" over the waters, and many other subjects of mutual interest and
passion have been explored in the depth of great conversation and company,
often with the best SOMA coffee or beer at Nick's English Hut, and even more
often with a laptop at the fingertips to explore or confirm knowledge newly
shared or gained from one another with the aide of what has become our most
easily and heavily used resource of information, wikipedia...
Together the minds of these two gentlemen have possibly covered more ground in literature, art, history and theology in a collective of hour long
conversations at our local coffee shop than the average person may in an entire lifetime. They will probably scoff and even blush a little at that comment,
but let's just say these are not your average men. And it is my pleasure as
Daniel's wife and companion to also participate in these conversations and
explorations of the mind on a regular basis on many a lovely Bloomington
evening.
And so it was especially to my great excitement
when the conversation began to lean in the direction of taking a travel
excursion! A true adventure to compliment the conversations, and
one in which we could all whole-heartedly and tangibly participate in the
actual substance of many conversations.
Though I do not recall the particulars of how the idea for the trip to New Orleans arose, I know it had largely to do with a common interest in the culture and history of the South, and in particular a South embalmed in French Creole influence as well as the many writers, musicians and various others who have called it home or lauded its glory from a distance, created great music and within its limits, and mourned its many deaths and re-awakenings. New Orleans is truly a remarkable place and has left an impact on us as well that will not be easily forgotten.
Thus, on the eve of the spring break with the
warmth of spring beginning to peek out its somewhat fickle
tendrils, and the hope of warmer weather down South, Daniel, Charles and I
piled into our quite compact little Saturn packed in with a cooler of food and
drinks (to aide our intention of making the trip as cheaply as possible), a tent (which
we had full intention of using until about 8 hrs into the trip the next day
when it was both darker and colder than expected), and what I dare say is the
best selection of music for the journey to New Orleans ever made, we were on
our way!
(listening to songs on Blues Hwy 61 compiled by our friend Chalres specifically themed for each stage of the journey, including old English murder ballads re-tuned by some of the best musicians from the Mississippi Delta)
There is something very distinct about this area of the country, along the banks of the Mississippi, a sort of mystique that is evident to the passer-by. Perhaps the expanses of greenish-gray land and twisted cyprus trees in the river banks interspersed with poor communities of poor, barrages of old car parts and graveyards are the cause, filling the landscape with a look of abandonment and yet a thick air of history and humanity still rests upon it.
Eventually, approaching a town, we a saw quite a sight. The distinct stamp of post-modernity, or perhaps...post-post modernity? on the second oldest Presbyterian church in Old Southwest. In disbelief at first, as we drew nearer our eyes beheld what our had minds only doubtfully proposed...
is that?......
oh yes, it is...
Wow.
A few towns further on, our stomachs were growing rumbly and our nibblings of granola and crackers were beginning to give way, we stopped to ask for a good spot for some local food. You know your'e in the South when the local fire department recommends Fat Mama's Tamales without hesitation. And oh does it ever come highly recommended! Indeed it does!
With our bellies full we drove further into the night, decided we would not camp out as originally planned, as setting up in an unknown territory began to seem less and less appealing with the encroaching darkness. So, we pulled into a motel for a good nights sleep just a few miles from our final destination. So it was in the morning that we began the final trek into the city, and she was there to welcome us with open arms, wonderful New Orleans!
After finding our hostel Charles immediately guided us to his favorite breakfast spot in the city The Trolley Stop Cafe, which we proceeded to visit two more times during our visit.
No doubt we were very well fed throughout our trip. Now on to the other reasons we decided to visit this city, many speak for themselves..
(The shop in which Daniel finally found his long-awaited cap, see below)
(Now that's a good looking cap!)
(And then over to Algiers on the ferry, a remarkably East-Nashville-like place, only with pubs instead of coffee shops. We started to plot how we might move there and open a coffee shop...although, it's pretty great just the way it is...)
I wish I had photos to share as well of the great jazz we heard, the layout of the town and more of the people and of course all the wonderful bookshops we visited! Our journey was lovely but much too short, and we look forward eagerly to the day we can return to this place we are missing!
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