New Orleans!

One of my father’s stories from his time in the service was about taking the train from basic training  near Washington DC to the west coast to get to his post in Alaska. He woke up while he was crossing Lake Pontchartrain and couldn’t figure out where he was. There was water on each side of the train and it went on and on.

His birthday fell while I was staying at Fontainebleau State Park, and I decided to celebrate his birthday by driving across the causeway to New Orleans. Last year, I went to one of his favorite restaurant chains for dinner.

This year, I decided to celebrate by driving across Lake Pontchartrain on the Causeway from Mandeville into the New Orleans.

The Causeway is about 24 miles long and skims along about 15 feet above Lake Pontchartrain.

It cost $3 to cross from the north side, in Mandeville, and no toll is collected on the return trip.

The speed limit is 65 mph. Do you know how hard it is to take pictures while zooming along on a two-lane bridge 15 feet over the water? Well, at least it’s a straight road.

The bridge my father crossed back when he was in the service wasn’t as long as this one. It crossed from Slidell to New Orleans. At almost 6 miles long, it is the longest rail bridge over water in the world. At least, I think that is the bridge he crossed. When I was talking with a guy who was trying to sell me a tour, he said that the rail bridge collapsed. So, without digging deeper, I don’t really know.

I didn’t really know where I was going. I kind of worked my way toward the Tourist Information Office my all-powerful phone told me about.

Luckily, I was stopped at an intersection, so I could take a photo of this billboard. It gave me a chuckle.

I saw a streetcar – but I don’t think it was named Desire.

And the Superdome. It was right downtown! After living in Buffalo with Rich Stadium (now the Ralph Wilson Stadium) way out in Orchard Park, I assumed all stadiums were way out of town.

I finally got to the address that was listed as the Tourist Information Office, but there was no information to be had. There might have been a Tourist Information Office there at one time, but no longer.

So, I did the next best thing. I put “Cafe du Monde” into the search engine and got directions. I knew that was one place I wanted to go while I was in New Orleans. I found it!

One on-line source said to to go around to the back and watch them make the beignets. And there they were, cranking them out.

After watching the production for a few minutes, I went inside to sample their wares.

With their limited menu, it didn’t take long to order and my beignets and cafe au lait were on my table before I knew it. They sure weren’t stingy with the powdered sugar!

This is what was left over after I finished with the beignets.

Even though I ate as carefully as I could, when I left and got ready to cross the street, a fellow tourist smiled at me and said in a heavy drawl, “Either you been eatin’ beignets or you been doin’ cocaine.” I brushed off my face and he grinned and said, “I had ’em, too.”

I walked down Decatur Street. My wonderful phone told me that the Jean Lafitte French Quarter Visitor Center was just a few blocks down, so that is where I headed. I passed the usual assortment of businesses that seek to part tourists from their money.

I had to go in to sample the pralines. And, I made a discovery – the chocolate pralines tasted just like the fudge my mother made growing up. I could never figure out why what was being sold as “fudge” didn’t seem like Mom’s fudge. Now I know – she was really making pralines.

I got down to the visitor center and it was CLOSED. Dang! I was batting zero on tourism centers. So, I just decided to roam about for a while.

I admired the wrought iron balconies.

The St. Louis Cathedral was on the other side of Jackson Square from Cafe du Monde. I got over there just past the time when they let visitors in. I was really batting zero!

Perhaps I should have consulted the fortune tellers that were stationed in the plaza in front of the cathedral.

It was starting to get cool, so I decided to head back to the campground. I headed toward the levee, which is where I had parked.

I passed a string of carriages awaiting passengers. This one looked like he wanted to take a bite out of one.

I could really tell that New Orleans was on low ground. I had to ascend to the levee to get to the river’s edge.

The view to the right.

The view to the left. I imagine this is where they import all the “throwables” for the Mardi Gras parades.

And then it was time to head back, but I knew that I would return.