It was a small tour of about 16 people and the driver, Richard gave us a running commentary as we went. He was an elderly gent and did think he sounded a lot like Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie. The ride was pretty ordinary except that much of the freeway was built over swamp. There were bits with huge flyovers of many levels all standing in this swampland.
Our first stop was Oak Alley, a large and quite opulent plantation. Our tour guide led us through and told us stories that gave us great insight into the family. The Mississippi is right across the road and they struggled with the seasonal floods, now there are flood banks all along the road.
Next stop was the Laura Plantation, a smaller home and less opulent. The tour guide was excellent and we got a really great feel for who the family were and how life may have been for them, and their slaves. We visited an original slave quarters, which actually wasn't that bad, although it would have been crowded. But it was not dissimilar to what our New Zealand pioneers lived in, however they were free to do as they pleased. The slaves of course were not. The owners of both plantations were creole.
The tour bus took us back to New Orleans over the Pontchartrain Lake on the causeway, a sort of bridge like structure 24 miles across the lake.
Arriving back in the city we jumped off the bus by the French Markets and stopped into Franks for a bite to eat. Immediately as we stepped in I thought 'these are New Yorkers' from the accent, and they were. Lance had a gumbo and me some calamari followed by the most delicious tiramisu (and I don't even like tiramisu).
Seeing people starting to gather down in the street I recalled something about a parade happening for the big College game. We watched the beginning of the parade from the upstairs balcany and then joined the crowd on the side of the road. Each College had a huge brass band, flag bearers, mascots and an enormous float. On that float people were tossing bead necklaces into the crowd (it's a New Orleans thing). We managed to catch heaps and I'm bringing them home for my Christmas tree to remember this day in the years to come. There was such a carnival atmosphere. Most colleges had several rows each of trumpets, trombones, tubers, clarinets, flutes, a variety of drums and symbols and some had saxophones of all types. We wandered through the French Market and grabbed a cyclo to take us home.
NEW YEARS EVE
Setting out for Bourbon St we encountered the young revellers who had come to town, football fans here for the big game on tomorrow and countless tourists, locals and hobos. A safe and reasonably sane place was the Hard Rock Cafe and bingo, NZ wine! Isn't it just great that these other countries are recognising how wonderful our wine is.
We wanted to find a bar with great music that we could hunker down for the rest of the evening. Out on the street the revellers were all calling out to the hoards of people up on the tiny balconies to throw down some beads. We only noticed one girl who followed the tradition to receive her beads by bearing her breasts. I felt very nervous about the balconies, remember that these houses are a couple of hundred years old. I was quite relieved when Lance said "this is no fun" and suggested that we leave. We ended up in the Marriott hotel having a quite drink with the older football fans and no music. I know!! No music!! Only bloody football on large screens! As midnight approached we took to the street and once the fireworks had started we meandered back home.
HAPPY NEW YEAR
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