Florida

[Kyle]The drive between New Orleans and Florida is a long one. It has very few stretches of road with light traffic and is also not particularly scenic. Thus, the miles and the hours dragged on as we plodded eastward to where Interstate 10 finally finishes at Jacksonville. We got there just before the afternoon rush hour started and then turned south onto Interstate 95, the busiest in the U.S.

Another long drive (over 1000 miles in one day), another change of time zone - this leg means we've arrived in state number 20 for the road trip to date

The drivers in this part of the country do not appear to be particularly law-abiding nor courteous, which made the last four hours of our drive even more of a trial than the first nine.

When we finally escaped the throngs and parked the car at our friend's place in a nice, dark, quiet lot, I was ready to walk away from the car and not look at it for a few days.

Birds, a Beach and a Bar - combining a few favourites with good friends!

Andy and Robin, with whom we became fast friends when we all lived in the marina in Weehawken, New Jersey during the winter of 2012/2013, were as welcoming as ever. Once we had our stuff stowed in their guest room, Andy handed me a drink and Robin appeared with a plate of nibbles that was big enough to stand in for dinner. I flopped down in Andy's favorite chair. Aaahhh, it felt good to sit down... in a slightly different position and in a different chair than I have been all day.

On subsequent excursions around the general area of their winter condo in Sebastian, Florida, either Andy or Robin were gracious enough to do the driving in their much nicer vehicle as they gave us a tour of the local highlights.

A cool airboat tour of the Florida swamp lands

Our non-culinary favorite was when we all went out on an airboat ride in a nearby wetland reserve. We saw lots of birds, four alligators, including a mother and one of her six-inch hatchlings, and got to do a lot of high-speed sliding around.

The four of us were in the front row of seats and I noticed that Maryanne and I were the only two that seemed to flinch as Johnny, the operator, aimed straight at the shallowest, most heavily vegetated spots. It's hard to ignore the instinct not to do that. I kept worrying about the props and rudders, but of course, on airboats, they are all on the top!

Andy and Robin are both so specially embedded in our memories from our time in Weehawken - we've managed to meet up several times since, but this was the first time in their Florida condo. We shared laughter, card games, and more; and of course, great food (they are both fantastic cooks).

We had a delicious Thanksgiving dinner, which was almost entirely prepared by Robin. I know she would insist that we helped, but she is being kind. Mostly we got in the way while occasionally swiping ingredients she was preparing. She's amazing.

Botanic Gardens, beaches, bars and MORE great food - all were shared and added to the great time

For reasons that would not become clear to me until we got there, they made reservations for us to eat a mere twenty-four hours later at Armani's Cucina in Vero Beach. After the big Thanksgiving dinner, I was pretty sure I would be giving up solid foods for the rest of the week, but here we were, perusing a menu of delicacies.

We needn't have bothered. Andy already knew what was good and before we could figure out what had happened, a whole table of it was spread out before us. It was all very, very good. Included in this was a very special entree made by Sal, the owner. It was a simple dish: homemade pasta with homemade tomato sauce. The special bit was when he tossed it all together in a big, hollowed out wheel of cheese, then scooped it out and served it to us.

We were all starting to feel a bit full when the meal went 3D and a giant pizza was suspended over the rest like a roof by one of those elevated pizza stands. Okay, there is no way we are finishing all of that...

Well... maybe. After the remainder was boxed up, Robin made sure it ended up in our bag of padkos (Afrikaans for "road food"). That would have been more than enough to sustain us for our upcoming thirteen-hour drive to Norfolk, but then she made us a few turkey sandwiches to throw in there as well. So much food... And every bit of it delicous. But most of all the company was great and we hope to see them again soon, most likely in Newport next year.

New Orleans

[Kyle]After leaving our own whole wing at Cori's mansion, we were on the road early for the shortish (six hour) drive to New Orleans, Louisiana.

Generally speaking, our accommodation for the in-between parts of our big road trip have been hit or miss. Mostly, this was because we were booking hotels on the fly along the way without having enough time to really study the listings for red flags like shots taken of a really nice lobby, but not the rooms. Photos of suspiciously large rooms taken with a fish-eye lens, where closer inspection reveals that there doesn't actually seem to be enough room to walk around the giant bed are also common.

That and a bit of sticker shock is how we ended up at the Bear Motel in Tahoe. Later, on the way between Phoenix and Houston, we stayed at another dodgy motel on the outskirts of San Antonio. This time, there were no bears to worry about, but I'm pretty sure we were the only ones that stayed all night. Our room there was actually very clean and well-appointed. I suspect the proprietor has a couple set aside for unwary travelers that actually thought they had booked a motel.

Then we came to New Orleans. We were excited to have found a place within walking distance of the French Quarter that also had a secure, gated parking lot for the car. Our place ended up being a quirky little studio in a stand-alone building that sits inexplicably in the middle of the parking lot of a looming, four-story apartment building. We think it may have been either a maintenance shack or a caretaker's quarters that has been upgraded.

All of this was in the middle of Treme, a neighborhood that subsequent research uncovered a consensus that it was mostly safe during the day, but definitely NOT at night (their emphasis).

Basically, it was no worse than downtown Oakland, California, where we lived for two years without incident. The thing is, like Oakland, depending on which specific block you live, you can be in a nice area or a scary area and they are often right next to each other.

In New Orleans our AirBnB rental was in the Treme district, nearby to the Louis Armstrong Park. On arrival we took a walk through the park, and then whent on to The French Quarter (Vieux Carré)

Our place in Treme seemed to be about two blocks past where we would have liked. The main thing was that it was under the elevated Interstate 10. There is a very large homeless encampment there that stretches for blocks and blocks, but the main problem was that it was next to an uphill on-ramp where all of the motorcycles and boy racers seem to love to peel out. I would have concluded that it was the loudest part of New Orleans, but then we went to Bourbon Street, so it's a close second. Even with the door and windows shut, you can't hear yourself think in there.

As for New Orleans itself, I have been there many times, so I didn't feel the need to try to fit the whole of the city in during our short stay, which was technically an extended break on a long drive. Maryanne was scheduled to join me once on a long overnight, but we ended up being rescheduled to a short, lame layover near the airport. I was looking forward to showing her around.

Our first stop was, of course, Cafe du Monde. For connoisseurs of all-sugar breakfasts like myself, a pilgrimage to Cafe du Monde is a must-do. We arrive in long lines of sad-looking schleps with droopy eyes and veritably bounce out like a giant serving tray full of Tiggers that have just had the big silver dome removed. Then the tourist dollars virtually vibrate out of our pockets. {Maryanne:Actually Cafe du Monde was rediculously inexpensive, a plate of three delicous, fresh beignets for less than $4 and a coffee even less.}

On the river, the paddle steamer had a steam organ playing to entertain those waiting to board

The Louisiana museum had a whole floor dedicated to the history of the famous Mardi Gras

And the famous "Farmers Market" had a huge selection of foods and gifts sufficient for any tourist

Bourbon Street was the expected cacophony of touts, buskers, and lots of really loud music coming out of bars that were all advertising the biggest daiquiris in New Orleans, each served in a unique container that made direct comparison with the competition impossible. To be fair, after you've had the first one, You're just going to spill half of the next on the street anyway, so it's a moot point.

New Orleans - just what you expect

One thing that was different from my previous visits was the music. New Orleans is home to some great Jazz and my auditory memories of the Bourbon Street amble are of blaring trumpets and the staccato of snare drums. Now the overwhelmingly predominant output is shouted Hip Hop lyrics that I could never repeat in any context whatsoever, including singing along with the actual songs in real time. To me, it seems as incongruous as walking down Beale Street in Memphis and hearing nothing come out of the clubs but yodeling. Bourbon Street now seems to me to be like any of the tourist areas in America where drunks stagger zigzag courses from one bar to the next amid flashing neon lights.

Further out, we found lots of delicious food and someone playing the largest instrument I've ever seen - the steamboat.

I can't imagine how expensive that must have been for his parents. I mean, steamboat lessons must not be that common. If the kid shows some aptitude, do you buy them their own small steamboat to practice on at home?

And a hop-on, hop-off bus tour made it easy to visit further afield (the Garden District, the cemetaries, etc)

Congo Square remains busy on Sundays (with drumming and dancing) a long held tradition

And we even visited the (tiny) Voodoo museum

Yep, New Orleans is a loud city. After our fifth or sixth lunch, Maryanne and I managed to make it safely home, where we shouted goodnight to each other and then spent the rest of the night staring helplessly at the ceiling while listening to the races between the Harleys and the mid-nineties Honda Accords with the giant spoilers and the super low-profile tires. Neither is fast, but they sure do make a lot of noise trying.