As previously reported, the Hampton Inn in Natchitoches (pronounced "Nag-A-Dish" whatever) was our last resort. Matt the 5'2" night manager used his power (compensating no doubt for the counter which hit him at chest level) knocked off an additional ten bucks because he put us in a smoking room and it was 10:30 at night. It smelled weird... less like smoke and more like a rugby team locker room. Other than that, it serviced our needs. It offered free Wi-Fi which we were too tired to use, but we did channel surf the excellent cable channel selection as we passed out.
In the morning we hustled out of there with hot coals in our shoes. Paige barely had time to ravage the complimentary breakfast array in the lobby which included biscuits and sausage gravy (you don't get that kind of continental breakfast in West Covina, that's for sure). Nancylee got a Diet Coke, a banana and a cheese danish for the road - please don't judge. And off we went...
Just before we got back on the I 49 southbound we found this...
Luge-cycles - our next trip!
(kinda looks like Wilford Brimley at the wheel, doesn't it?)
Squidward wanted to eat them. Said they looked like deep sea plankton. We hit the gas before any mayhem occurred.
We're starting to see a lot of wild life (read "roadkill") in southern Louisiana: possum, raccoon, skunk, a fox-looking-thingy, and a shredded tire carcass. Not sure National Geographic is gonna be covering this interstate ecosystem anytime soon.
(PHOTOS MERCIFULLY OMITTED)
The beloved blinking blue dot on our iPhone took us off the Interstate and onto state road 167. This was a nice, smooth two lane highway dotted with little towns, mostly forgotten by the freeway that runs pretty much parallel.
Here's LaMonte...
Desolate because everyone worth their salt was in church.
We were reminded it's Palm Sunday when we saw some folks heading from church, dressed in their finest fineries literally walking on the side of the highway carrying to-go containers in which was probably the most delicious church barbeque ever.
Gorgeous little town... one of many.
With fields plowed and prepped for the Spring seed.
Reluctantly, we had to jump down to the interstate and met up with the I 10. It offers it's own kind of Palm Sunday ritual...
Gas, Car Wash, Snacks, Casino... What, no bait?
Penny's Diner Hwy 49, NLM on a pie mission (huh huh)
Shout-out to Penny McCraw in Memphis! See you on the next trip.
The engine behind Penny's Diner.
They were out of all of their most popular items, biscuits & gravy, and pie. No Pie?! Thank goodness they had sweet tea.
The Girls of Penny's Diner
Squidward at Penny's Diner
It's getting pretty swampy now.
We're looking for alligators, but didn't see any. Guess they're smart enough not to become roadkill. Wily devils they are.
Okay, so this is the bridge over the Mississippi River just near Baton Rouge.
It's kind of narrow here and we didn't really realize it was THE Mississippi River until we looked it up. Idiots. We should've done some kind of ritual or something. Not sure what... we did however have a little 4 string banjo packed in the back of Squidward and probably should have stopped and ripped out a tune.
A really scary bridge.
Lots of bridges in this part of the country - we reckoned it's because there's lots of water. These are the diamonds of wisdom and keen observation we're spittin' at this point.
But, let it be said, that Squidward was stoic throughout the river crossings, even though there was an uppity Ford Focus on his hip the whole way across this bridge. We would've let him eat that one.
And that's a train on the rusty elevated track next to the bridge and it was... we were there and... okay, that's all... it just looked cool.
This is exactly how the pictures in this travelogue have been taken. Just for the record, if it seemed we had some kind of space age rigging hanging us out of Squidward to get the fabulously evocative shots we've gotten... thank you so much, but we didn't.
Crossing Lake Pontchartrain on I 10.
The bridge is low and long so it's hard to see, but what you CAN see is this lake hits the horizon. The thing is a 630 sq mile shallow lake. Amazing.
See, we're still on it. This is one long ass bridge.
Lake on one side. Swamp and alligators on the other.
Door number one or door number two?
That's the Super Dome up ahead as we approach New Orleans.
Home of Super Bowl winners the SAINTS! Who Dat?! Awesome shot, right? As we get closer we'll get a better shot...
Okay, behind this billboard for chicken wings is the Superdome. Swear. (never gets old)
Oh, alright, here it is...
The Superdome, obviously repaired since Katrina and all the sadness that went on there.
We finally dropped down into Nola proper from highway 90 and headed to our new digs via the blue dot. Squidward felt a bit pudgy off the freeway, but he carries it well.
St. Charles Ave, which leads to our new neighborhood.
The St Charles Line Streetcar.
We were told it's not a Trolley, that's for San Francisco. We have not yet found the one they call Desire but if it still exists and it's around and we're squeal like little drama club geeks. Don't think we won't.
Turning the Squid-man onto our street.
It took us circling a few times to figure out all the one way streets. Tricky terrain in these parts. And the streets took such a hit during Katrina that it is no place for you bike or Vespa enthusiasts. It's a nice idea until you hit that first pothole. Aaaaggghhh! Thud.
So, four days and three nights on the road. We left Burbank hoping to be at our new digs by 3PM on Sunday. We arrived at 4:15PM. Not too shabby for a couple of girls in a U-Haul. No jokes please about lesbians and U-Hauls -- you should have lobbed those at us on day one. Too late now. The truth is we are logistical geniuses. Many of you who have called for directions to various locales, knows that one of Paige's nicknames is Mission Control. One of NL's is Control-a-rella, but that's a different thing all together. (We do owe a great deal of credit to Paige's mom and her friends for guiding us away from our initial route into more friendly, safe terrain. You were right, thanks y'all.)
The guys we hired were right on time. Got everything in and put together quickly. They also messed up the new carpet and newly painted walls, which is their job, I think. Otherwise they don't feel fulfilled.
We got the truck unloaded and some of the rooms set up in a couple of hours. And started opening a few boxes. (Note to self: Next time keep watchful eye on Maeve Q. when she offers to pack and label your boxes.)
See?
Also, even though we're far from our dog palace in California, we're still finding their hair.
This made Paige sad even though it's gross. She's a bit odd. (No, Im not.)
Of course we have to end this missive with a hairball. It just seems right.
We finally finished puttering - feeling and looking dazed (notice no portraits) and slept.
Tomorrow is another day. Typing that just now makes this time honored saying just feel too obvious.
NL & PB xo
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