Getting to New Orleans - 3/3/11

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Little baby in my cake

In the morning we had traditional King Cake for breakfast. This is a cake shaped like a ring, filled with cinnamon and sugar, frosted, and then dusted with green, gold, and purple sugar. A plastic baby is also baked inside, and whoever finds it needs to bring next year’s cake. The cake is named after the biblical three kings, and the baby is sometimes said to represent the baby Jesus, although originally it was a bean or pea that was hidden in the cake. The baby is a recent addition. I stumbled upon the baby in the cake, so now I’m obligated to bring the next king cake. That’s alright - since I managed not to bite down on the baby and break a tooth, I’m happy. J

We drove next to downtown Baton Rouge and fooled around by the Mississippi River for a while. As always, we had fun with the auto-timer on the camera - trying to set it and climb on top of a fountain all in 10 seconds. We took our customary pictures falling off things and balancing on railroad tracks. We took a picture of the USS Kidd, but were distracted by an old car and playing on the bridge. There was also a war memorial there listing the names of all the Louisiana soldiers who died in all the American wars.

We went off to the old state capitol next, which looks a lot like a castle. We played Rock Paper Scissors to see who would have her picture on the steps - Tricia won. She scampered up the steps, and then decided she needed to pose at the top of the hill as if she was rolling down it. But the hill was so steep, she actually started rolling! She jumped up, howling and laughing and covered in wet grass. “I’ve got grass in my underwear!!”

We went in to explore the old state capitol, but unfortunately a bunch of school kids dressed in suits and ties had commandeered most of the rooms. So we went back outside and headed over to the Louisiana State Museum, stopping at the library on the way. (There were 4 rows of audio books! That’s for you dad.) At the museum we had our first experience with Mardi Gras beads and floats and costumes. We learned about the Louisiana Purchase from Napoleon and all the influences of the French, Cajun, and Creole cultures. And we read about how on the day LSU won their football game against Auburn in the last 2 minutes, all the fans leaping to their feet in joy registered as an earthquake on the university’s seismograph.

After the museum we got back into the car and made our way to New Orleans. On the way, we pulled off for a sign that said “Hold an alligator” (okay, we pulled off because I wanted to hold an alligator). We never did find the alligator, but we did come across a Louisiana plantation called the Houmas House. It was $13, so we took pictures from the outside and climbed on the gates. And then we gave up on the gator and drove on.

When we got a few miles out from New Orleans, the highway suddenly turned into a parking lot. Apparently, Mardi Gras is a big deal or something. So we called Doug, the guy we’re staying with, and got directions. He had us get off an exit earlier that the GPS said (yay - save 10 minutes) and make our way to a hotel. We went to the wrong hotel and had to backtrack, but eventually we made it. Doug was great and showed us where there were three spots that the city had forgotten to zone for meters and so they were free, so we grabbed one and didn’t move our car until we left 2 days later. Doug was from Kalamazoo, Michigan, and had accepted us because I told him we’re from the Midwest and that Tricia had run cross country in Kalamazoo. He’s staying at the hotel for a few months investigating the BP oil spill.

Up in the room, Tricia and I got to claim the pull-out couch in the living room of the suite, and we changed into fancy (fancier) clothing. Since the hotel caters to long term guests, they provide dinner as well, which we also were allowed to partake of. That night’s fare was steak and shrimp salad, and we also had rolls and fruit. They also had bottles of wine and draft beer, and then we had german chocolate cake and coffee as well. Since in Louisiana (well, New Orleans at least) you can have open containers, we refilled our wine and beer and went out into the night life. We met up with the third couch surfer, Jhon, just as we left the hotel.

We went by the River Walk and the closed French Market, and Doug pointed out things we should come back and visit during the day. Once or twice I stopped someone to take a picture of a costume. And then a crazy man came up to us and very earnestly told us that we’d lost something. We all turned and look back. “Your smiles!! You’ve lost your smiles!!” Well, the only response I could think of was to hand him the last of my wine. He took it seriously, swished it around the glass, and sipped it like a (very drunk) connoisseur. “Mmm….Burgundy?” Um….not being a connoisseur myself (I can’t even spell it), I have no idea. It’s a Cab?

Of course the thing to do during Mardi Gras is to go to a parade and catch beads, so we stopped on the parade route, but were pretty far back as the parade had already started. We contemplated climbing onto a police car parked next to the road, but decided against it. My first beads came from the guy in front of me, who caught 2 and gave me one. So I took his picture. My second set came from a guy right next to the parade who didn’t keep any and kept throwing them my way. I blew him kisses to encourage this behavior.

Every hour the parade would stop for about 20 minutes and people would leave, so we were eventually able to make our way much closer. The people there were vicious though. Even though these people were about twice our age, they lunged at the beads like college kids, ripping them out of our hands, smacking Tricia in the head, and scratching my arm as we both went for beads that had landed right in front of me. Since Tricia and I our girls, and are used to giving in to people, we got much less beads than these crazy people. Also, the guy in front of us was a chain smoker, which was awesome. Dude - if you’re reading this - smoking in a crowd, especially with little kids around, is RUDE. Die of lung cancer if you want, but don‘t share it with me. I’d like to die of old age, thank you.

The parades are actually pretty interesting - in the one we saw, they threw out high heels. A lot of the floats have to do with how poorly the government is run and how much they dislike the elected officials, but this was lost on us as we don’t know much about Louisiana’s government officers. We did see a float on the BP oil spill and one on Sarah Palin, but otherwise were mostly in the dark.

After a couple hours at the parade and fighting with the crazy people around us (and the cigarette smoke - when I washed my face later, the pad was black), we decided enough was enough and went back to the hotel. We had intended to go out again, but after cracking a few beers we ended up being comfortable and settling in and just chatting for a few hours. At about 1 we called it a night (Doug had work in the morning). Jhon spread out on the floor and we stretched out on the pull-out. We even left the sliding door open (on the 7^th floor - don‘t worry) to feel the Louisiana breeze all night.