You betcha!

Because it was our last morning in Chicago, Cas and I had a proper, sit-down breakfast.  He found a spot with some classic menu items and some real character, and we each had a pretty traidtional breakfast.  I suspect you could go to most cities in America and get two eggs, two sausage links, some hash browns and some toast. I have to say, it was the perfect meal.  After breakfast, we went back to the hotel so we could check out, then we took a stroll to a park, but it started to rain just about when we arrived, so we walked through a very light sprinkle to the Chicago Cultural Center, which used to be a public library, and I have to tell you, they sure made pretty libraries way back when.  The library at the school where I work is slated for a bit of a makeover soon, and I hope they will welcome my design ideas based on the elaborate mosaics, sweeping stone staircases, fancy ceilings and beautiful stone columns.  Somehow, I suspect they’ll just go for a fresh coat of paint and some new chairs, but a girl can dream, can’t she? 

The cultural center had exhibits throughout.  There were small galleries featuring works by different artists on the ground floor, but the top floor had an exhibition about the birth of the comic strip.  Many of the features were from old newspapers that first published comics, and there were a few toys and such that were made to accompany the comics.  It was an interesting enough exhibit, but we really lacked the time to read everything, and if I’m being honest, I lacked the attention span to do so.  I have to say, yesterday was a lot, and between the hour and a half of kayaking and the big bursts of walking around the city, I may be a little tired today.  

It’s probably serendipitous timing, too.  We are currently on an eight hour train trip, so there isn’t a lot of activity to complete.  That’s what we had planned- from Chicago to Red Wing, I thought it would be neat to take a train.  Red Wing has a train station, and I wanted to hop off there.  I thought it would be cool.  The problem then became how to get from Red Wing to the Minneapolis/Saint Paul airport when it was time to leave town, and a secondary problem was how to rent a car in Red Wing.  I don’t think it can be done.  Both of these problems were easy to solve if we rode the train straight through Red Wing, got to the Minneapolis/Saint Paul station, rented a car and drove right back to where we came from.  I realize that sounds completely crazy, but it’s a really neat experience, and Chicago's Union Station is absolutely stunning.  

Besides, Cas and I are old pros at train travel from our grand Candian adventure, and it’s a very serene way to get from one place to another.  So, that’s all for now, we’ll see you in Red Wing, and until then, let me start out the Minnesota leg of this journey with a great big You Betcha.

When you have a moment, take a look at the Chicago Cultural Center and Union Station.  They sure did know how to build stuff… https://photos.app.goo.gl/2sYnZaQSheDb6sfJ6

Just Iike the movies

After a quick reset in the middle of the day, Cas and I headed back to the riverwalk to check out a band we’d seen advertise on a website for a bar there.  Littlebird was on stage doing a sound check when we sat down to enjoy a beer and a snack before our trip to the Willis Tower.  Willis Tower used to be the Sears Tower.  It also used to be the tallest building in the world, but hey, who can stop the march of progress?  Anyhow, Littlebird was good.  They did some pop songs from when I was in college, leading me to believe I may be in the same age range as the band members.  They also did a few older ones.  Most notably, the female vocalist did a pretty good rendition of Jolene.  

After we listened for a bit, we headed to the Willis Tower to use the tickets Cas pre-purchased, which were timed to hit sunset.  Wow.  Cas is really smart, because that was one pretty sunset.  We were up at the observation deck when a little bit of rain rolled through, and in all of our adventures together, this was the first time Cas and I were in a very tall building, looking out and seeing rain.  Weirdly, it was super pretty, and when it stopped, there was a rainbow over Lake Michigan.  Who can beat that?  We went out into those crazy boxes that hang off the side of the building, and we took some additional sunset pictures.  We also took some silly pictures, because, hey, we are who we are.  There were the tourist pics they take and try to sell you at the end, but we didn’t go for those.  Our poses for those images were entirely designed to make us look like we were falling.  I almost bought the things, but Cas was moving too quickly, and his face blurred in one picture.  No forty bucks for you, tower folks!  Nevertheless, we had fun.  Then again, we always have fun.  

The last stop of the night was at a bar called Plymouth, which Cas insists is located at the site of Elwood’s apartment in the Blues Brothers.  We had an Italian Beef sandwich, rounding out our Chicago food requirements.  I had a Chicago style hot dog, while Cas had a Polish Sausage.  We shared a deep dish pizza, and tonight, we had the iconic Italian Beef sandwich.  Mission accomplished, and now, we can move on to Red Wing cuisine.  

Before that, though, we have another morning in town, then an Amtrak trip to take.  Should be interesting at the least.  Until then, here is a photo of Cas, standing where Ferris Beuller and company stood in the movie when they took their storied day off of school.  This was where the three of them leaned their foreheads against the glass, so of course, we had to do the same.  I mean, who could possibly be expected to handle school on a day like this? 

If you’re in the mood for about a million beautiful sunset photos, knock yourself out: https://photos.app.goo.gl/2sYnZaQSheDb6sfJ6

Don’t rock the boat

Usually, if you’re on a trip and you have to make your way back to the hotel in the middle of the day for a second shower, it’s not a particularly good day, but we are having a great day, and we’ve stopped for a little mid-day soap and water.  When we got moving this morning, the plan was to rent kayaks.  We got ready particularly slowly, monitoring the weather apps on our phones, as they gave us thunderstorm warnings and great green blob shapes floating across the radar screen over where we are.  We saw a break in the weather, then made our way to the front door of the hotel, only to see that the rain had resumed by the time we got down there.  Our backup plan was a museum, and we were debating that, but we ultimately decided that we had planned for water, anyhow.  

We were going kayaking.  So, we headed for the riverfront location of Urban Kayaks, who say they open at 9 am.  Well, they had been watching the weather, too, and their plan was to open at noon.  We were about 40 minutes early.  So, we went for a walk, sat on a bench, booked online to pre-pay so the process would be quick when noon hit, then made our way back.  We were the first two kayaks in the water today, and we had a great time.  We paddled past lots of the same beautiful buildings we had seen on the architecture tour, and we also heard other tours going by.  I didn’t pick up any new information, though.  We didn’t paddle at the speed of a large tourist boat.  

The weather was perfect, we had adequate sunscreen with us, and the kayaking was very fun.  After that, we stopped at a restaurant with outdoor seating and plenty of shade.  Both were necessary, as we probably smelled a little like we’d been rowing kayaks on a river for an hour and a half.  We split a pair of sandwiches and had a glass of sangria each, then headed back to the hotel for a very necessary shower.  Our next move is to head back to the river later on in the evening.  I found a local band who is playing at a riverside venue tonight, and there is no reason not to check it out.  Following that, we’ve got tickets to the Skydeck, which is at the former Sears Tower (Now, it’s called the Willis Tower.)  I suspect Sears had to sell it off when they went belly up, but nevertheless, the Skydeck is still there, and we pretty much have to go up and look down.  More on all of that later- for now, we’re drying off and getting ready for the next thing.  

Please enjoy several photos Cas took through a Ziploc bag: https://photos.app.goo.gl/2sYnZaQSheDb6sfJ6

If you see Tom, buy him a Heineken

Today, we started out with tickets to go on a Wrigley Field tour at 10 am.  We got out of the hotel a lot earlier than that, thanks in part to our very smart decision to pick up some bananas and granola bars last night on the way back to the hotel.  If your hotel doesn’t have a continental breakfast, and if you’re not staying in a city renowned for its great breakfast foods, I recommend keeping a few pieces of sustenance on hand.  It really saves valuable morning time.  

So, Cas and I set out for the Wrigley Field area, which, in fact, is called Wrigleyville.  We got there pretty early, so we found a cute coffee shop and sat, looking out the window, watching the pedestrian traffic go by the ballpark.  When the time came for the tour, we crossed the street just before Tom arrived.  He was an older fellow, mustachioed and clad in Cubs attire, and speaking with the voice of a lifelong fan.  He lives close to the ballpark, and talks about it with the reverence of a cherished church or an ancestral family estate.  Heck, he sounds like he was born at the ballpark.  I recorded his voice for a moment, and in spite of the lawnmowers in the background, I think you ought to click here and listen to Tom.  (If that file won’t play, I’m sorry.  I will convert the M4A to an MP3 when I get home- I have limited technology with me at the moment.). 

Either way, Tom was pretty great.  I did have to ask him about his rather large piece of jewelry.  He had a World Series ring on his right hand.  Apparently, lots of Chicago Cubs employees got rings when the team won the Series in 2016.  He explained that the players got substantially fancier rings than the upper-echelon office staff, who, in turn, got fancier rings than he did.  Nevertheless, Tom had a World Series ring.  Pretty cool, right?  He wears it when giving tours, but he doesn’t wear it around to do pedestrian things like run to the grocery store.  I asked.  You could tell that Tom was proud of the ring.  It was almost as big as his hand, but hey, I don’t have one- do you?  

So, after nearly two hours, Cas and I walked out of the ballpark, past Tom.  When I asked if he accepted tips, he said he did, and he poured them right back into the local economy at a place right behind center field called Murphy’s.  We handed him a few dollars, and we took his suggestion.  I mean, if that isn’t a ringing endorsement, I don’t know what is.  I guess what I am trying to tell you is that Cas and I headed over to Murphy’s after the tour to split a hamburger and have a few beers.  We also decided when we were there to see if Tom was on the level.  When we asked the bartenders on duty if they knew Tom who gave tours of Wrigley, they said they did.  We asked what he drank, and they said Heineken.  So, we decided to leave a few bucks for Tom’s first after-work Heineken.  It seemed like the least we could do for a really nice man who gave us such a splash of local color.  

After Wrigley, after Murphy’s, we boarded a city bus with our three day passes and headed over to Lincoln Park.  When we got there, we rented some Divvy Bikes, which are apparently offered in a partnership with Lyft.  No matter, they are exactly as adequate as you’d expect a rent-by-the-hour bike to be.  Mine made noises every time my left foot pedaled down, and the brakes sounded like the audio clip you’d use in a slasher movie murder scene,  Hey, what did I expect.  It was a rental bike I picked up in one spot and deposited in another, and it was, like I said, adequate.  We rode around Lincoln Park for a while, then headed over to a bike docking station when the sky started to look ominous.  We docked the bikes and ducked under an awning just about three seconds before the rain started in earnest.  We stood there, phones in hand, evaluating our options, when a bus arrived,  What the heck, right? We got into the warm, dry bus, because, three day passes, and we plotted when to get out.  

Cas picked the perfect spot.  There was a bar called The River Shannon, whose street-facing signage explained that it opened in 1946.  Seemed pretty recent, given that we had just been at a ballpark that opened its doors in 1914.  Nevertheless, it was a pretty great neighborhood bar.  The bartender was friendly to us and greeted several of the regulars by name as they arrived.  It was the perfect spot to wait out the rain.  

When the rain finally let up, we went to the bean.  I know, I know- the bean is called Cloud Gate, but seriously, does anyone actually call it that?  I mean, I guess I would call it Cloud Gate if I called Cas Caswell Joseph.  Both perfectly lovely names, but that is the bean, and my guy is Cas.  We don’t stand on ceremony.  

We had a pretty good time taking tourist photos of the bean, then we took photos of the tourists taking photos of the bean- it was a lot of photos.  Really, this all got us to about diner time.  Cas had a spot all picked out for proper Chicago style deep dish pizza.  Giordano’s.  We ordered the smallest pizza they had, and it was still too much.  It was pretty great, though.  What else could you want, really?  There was amazing pizza, reasonably priced wine and friendly servers with plenty of hustle.  It was a great way to wrap up a very full day.  

We’re back in the hotel, now, having stopped off for a few more bananas to make tomorrow morning go smoothly.  I suspect Tom is back home, too, having enjoyed at least one Heineken at Murphy’s.  

In honor of that, here’s a photo of me and Cas, out on the patio at Murphy’s, having a beer just as the L goes by.  It’s so Chicago, isn’t it?  

And, here for your enjoyment. are the rest of the photos : https://photos.app.goo.gl/2sYnZaQSheDb6sfJ6

Edifice Rex

Early this afternoon, we landed at O’Hare airport.  Our flight was on time, then it was running about 45 minutes late, then it was all slated to be back on time again, and in the end, we landed ten minutes early.  Either way, we got here just about when we expected we would, so it’s all good.  When we hit the ground, we headed for a shuttle between terminals so we could get to terminal two, which is where the CTA blue line starts out.  Our ticket into the city center was on that train, and in anticipation of plenty of train rides, we each bought a three-day pass.  Certainly, we’ll be back on “The L” tomorrow.  

When we got off of the train, we were just around the corner from our hotel, which is right next door to the Nederlander Theater.  I swear, that wouldn’t have even registered on my radar, but that was the surname of Martin Short’s character on the Three Amigos.  There was Steve Martin playing Lucky Day, Chevy Chase playing Dusty Bottoms and Martin Short playing Ned Nederlander.  See- that’s the kind of information I manage to keep while completely forgetting things like my third grade teacher or half of my friends from junior high.  I guess I only hang on to the important stuff… Nevertheless, we checked in, made time for quick wardrobe change, and headed back out.  

At this point, we were hungry.  We had a decent breakfast in Dallas, but it was after three, and oatmeal will only take you so far.  Cas found an inexpensive dumpling place, and we each had a few of those, along with pot stickers and hibiscus lemonade.  That was just right to get us back on track, and on track we were.  Next stop, the Riverwalk. We went down from the street level to the restaurants and shops that lined the river, and it reminded me of San Antonio.  We found out later that it was, in fact, inspired by a former mayor’s trip to San Antonio, so I suppose there’s a reason for that.  We wandered a little, then stopped at a spot with a good river view and some shaded outdoor tables for a glass of wine and a snack.  Like I said, we had a really late lunch, and it was not huge.  After we sat there and watched the water and the people flow by for a little while, we made our way to the first thing we had booked: the architecture tour.  It was through a company called Chicago’s First Lady Cruises, and the narrator for our adventure was a volunteer named Larry who seemed to know something about every single building near the river.  He also gave us a little river history, some Chicago history, and some basics about  architecture in general.  Larry was very good, and the cruise was fantastic.  It was also the source for today’s best photo:

After that was done, honestly, it was about time for a little wandering, a light dinner and an early night.  We’re both a little wiped out from just getting to this point, and we have a day that starts at Wrigley Field tomorrow.  Can’t be late for that.  

In case you want to admire some architecturally significant buildings or check out any other photos, here’s the photo album: https://photos.app.goo.gl/2sYnZaQSheDb6sfJ6

Coming to America!

Tomorrow, we board a Southwest flight bound for Chicago, and with that, our summer adventure begins.  There are five stops on the journey, taking about two and a half weeks.  We start in Chicago, head to my childhood hometown of Red Wing, Minnesota, go from there to Boston, then to Cas' college town of Hanover, New Hampshire and wrap it up, finally, in New York City.  

We're ready, too.  I loved our spring break road trip, and the New Orleans visit for my dad's birthday was a blast, but this represents a return to our extended, Heather-and-Cas, because-we're-teachers summer trip.  Last summer, was by necessity, spent close to home, but this summer?  This summer, we're off.  Leavin' on a jet plane.  On the road again.  Gone to look for America.  King of the road.  Pick the song- if it's about vacation, I bet we'll sing it loud and off key.  What I'm saying is, we're so ready.  

We'll leave tomorrow, and we'll keep moving until we're Homeward bound.  

Here we go.  

In case you need to see Neil Diamond sing "Coming to America" in a sparkly shirt, here's a link.  You're welcome.

The difference between a gallery and a balcony

There is a difference between a gallery and a balcony.  A balcony does not have pillars or beams that come up from the ground to support it. Typically, balconies are narrower.  Galleries are usually wider- often, the width of the sidewalk below- and they have posts to hold them up from the ground level.  I said before arriving in New Orleans that one of my wishes was to sit on a balcony and have a drink, overlooking the street.  It turns out that you are far more likely to be able to do that on a gallery, not a balcony.  I only make the distinction because this is a gallery: 

Anyhow, check the last item off the list- we had a drink on a gallery overlooking Bourbon Street, of all streets.  Our last day in town started with the five of us heading to breakfast.  Jane’s airport shuttle was coming just before lunch time, so we all had one last meal together at The Ruby Slipper, a spot that was recommended to us, but way too busy the first day we were in town.  Dad, Danny and Cas all actually ordered the same thing: the smoked salmon omelet.  Sounds pretty strange to me, but all three of them seemed happy.  I was also happy with my more traditional breakfast.  It was good to be all together one more time.  Our mission was to pick up some pralines after that, so off we went, on a candy run.  Praline shops- the ones that make the treats in-house- are the best smelling places in all of New Orleans.  We walked past a few, sniffing around in the doorways on the way to a specific one Cas wanted us to find: Aunt Sally’s.  Somewhere on the way, we got to a pretty fantastic courtyard whose entry was adorned with a national parks sign.  Through the door and down the passage, a park ranger answered questions about the nature preserves, parks and generally pretty, wild places in the bayou area.  After the diversion to chat with a park ranger and the mission to find pralines, it was time to get Jane back to the hotel so she could meet up with the airport shuttle.  

After we saw Jane off, we were four.  We walked over to the Hotel Monteleone to sit at the Carousel bar when it opened at noon- except it opened at 4 pm today.  Apparently, their hours are different on weekdays and such.  Dang.  So we headed back to the national park courtyard, as there was supposed to be a film about the Mississippi River that we didn’t have time to watch earlier in the day.  When we finished the movie, we decided to head back or one last hurricane at Pat O’Brien’s.  Sounds smart, right?  So, their temporary hours were taped to the door.  No Pat-O on Tuesdays for the time being.  We were really batting a thousand, there, until we looked at the place across the street and saw people sitting at tables on the gallery.  I wonder... Do you think?  I’ll go ask.  The man at the door said to go in head to the stairs, take a right at the top and let them know we wanted to sit outside.  I’m telling you, even with the rattling groaning street sounds and the consistent construction noises, I think Dallas patios will forever pale in comparison to the Gallery at Coronet.  In Dallas, you’re lucky if your patio table at a bar or restaurant looks out onto a decent looking parking lot instead of a really ugly one...  

It was the perfect thing to do.  We stayed there for a few beers- probably the last of our day-drinking for a while- and listened to some live music starting up at a bar below.  It was good music, too.  I don’t think any of the four of us had a single bit of desire to go exploring at that point.  It was perfect just to sit on a gallery, drink a beer and listen to music filter up from the street level until it was time to head back.  When we did, we picked up our luggage from the Hampton (again, we were very pleased with them and their service), called a cab and got to the airport with time to spare.  

All in all, this was a great trip.  I was glad Dad wanted to do it for his birthday, and I was really happy with each addition to the group.  I mean, I knew Cas was in, and I was really happy Danny was on board, but when Jane texted that she had booked a flight, I was over the moon- it was going to be fantastic.  When Jeff, Reema and Jack signed on, I knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime adventure.  This trip was my favorite present I have ever given a person, and I can’t think of anyone who would appreciate it more than my dad.  

Happy Birthday, Dad.  Hope you keep on Chooglin’ 

Photo album: https://photos.app.goo.gl/chay3CBSmG5aSwXr6

Narrated by Tom Hanks

Today, the five of us who remained in town had tickets to the World War II Museum.  It’s billed as the top attraction in New Orleans, and I see why.  At an impressive five ehxibit halls, it has buildings that take up a huge amount of space, cross city streets with sky bridges, and house large, military aircraft on their ceilings.  We got there at 10 am and walked through about a zillion exhibits.  We honestly didn’t have time to walk through about half of the stuff.  I was told prior to leaving for this trip that, to properly view the museum, you’d need to plan to spend at least two days.  We had one day, and we cut it short, at that.  There really is a threshold that most people have for war museums, and each of the five of us hit that wall at different times.  I think Jane and I were first, ready to tap out like a tag team wrestler after only a few, short hours.  Danny and Dad were characteristically inscrutable, giving no indication that they needed to wrap it up, but when it was tine to go, they certainly didn’t argue.  Cas was the last one out of the museum, and that makes me happy,  I am glad he is both interesting and interested in things, bit I am more glad that he has enough of a comfort level with my family that he believes us when we say, “I’m going to hang out near the end of this exhibit, but please, take all the time you need and enjoy!” 

One of the things we did in the museum was watch what they’re calling a 4D movie.  I was unclear what that meant prior to entry, but it was pretty cool.  Objects rose up out of the stage in front of the curved, panoramic movie screen or dropped down from the ceiling to enhance the experience.  Lights and sounds came from strategic spots inside the theater- over our heads, behind our backs- to make us feel like we were in the middle of things.  Our chairs shook and rumbled when the filmmaker was trying to indicate that we were on a bumpy tank ride or something like that.  It was a very cool, very immersive moviegoing experience- and certainly one I would think twice about if I were with someone who had actually served in a war.  I suspect anyone with actual memories of anything similar may not want to be that up-close and personal with that kind of thing.  It was excellent, but I suspect, for some, it would be too much.  Oh, and Tom Hanks narrated it.  I mean, how cool is that? 

Also- fun fact- any time you go into a place where a motorcycle exists with my dad, he will tell you all about that bike.  I didn’t need to read the placard in front of this bike before he told me all about the company (Simplex Motorcycle) and how the founder of the brand made money off a kickstand patent.  Dad can narrate a motorcycle exhibit so much better than any actor could.  

After the museum, Cas directed us to a restaurant that promised a very good muffuletta.  I have honestly never had a bad muffuletta.  This one was, as usual, excellent.  I suspect it’s just a really good sandwich every time.  

From there, we took a long walk through some more industrial (less rich and touristy) neighborhoods to the Urban South Brewery.  When in doubt, take my dad to a brewery.  Their beers were pretty good, and they also had some non-beer options.  

After that, we took the streetcar again, because the walk would not have been quick or short, and a taxi would have cost more than $1.25 per person.  We wrapped up our evening at Dad’s new favorite New Orleans watering hole.  The music at Jimani is good, the bar food is exactly what you’d expect, and the beers are reasonably priced.  All in all, a good spot to sit with our group and sort of recap the past few days.  Of course, because Jane suggested it and Dad would never say no to ice cream, we stopped for cones and scoops on the way back to the hotel.  The place we went was crowded, and the cashier appeared to be just about to quit her job, but we managed to get out the door with treats.  

From there, it was back to the hotel and to bed.  Today, we have breakfast together before Jane takes a mid-day shuttle to the airport.  Dad, Danny and I head there later in the day.  Only a few more adventures left in this trip, but seriously, this has been a good one.  If only we could get a sweeping film score and some Tom Hanks narration to punctuate this trip- maybe next time.  

Photo album: https://photos.app.goo.gl/chay3CBSmG5aSwXr6

Useful legislation

In June of 2008, the Louisiana House of Representatives decided in a 62-33 vote that Sazerac was the official cocktail of New Orleans.  Finally, a useful action to come from a legislative body!  Honestly, I am not sure who the 33 were or what their big problem was with whiskey, bitters, and a little splash of some kind of absinthe or absinthe-substitute.  It’s pretty darn good, and it certainly has history.  

After we were all reasonably dried off from our gator-seeking adventure, we regrouped and made our way to the Sazerac House for the free tour.  Cas booked it ahead of time, as there are limited time slots, and we were as close to on time as we were likely to get.  What you do is start the tour on the third floor, learning all about Peychaud’s Bitters, then on to a quick lesson in the fate of original absinthe and the development of its replacement. All capped off with a small sample of a Sazerac cocktail.  The second floor got us some info about different cocktails and a sample of a rum drink, and the first floor handed us some straight Sazerac rye.  It was pretty great, all in all, and certainly a place we could have deposited Jeff and returned hours later, only to find him asking follow up questions and comparing cocktail notes.  

He really wants a wall like this one in his home.  Maybe, someday...

From there, we went to Redfish grill for an amazing meal.  Just in time, too, because the majority of us missed lunch in favor of figuring out how to get dry.  That was our last moment as a big group together, so I made the poor waitress take a photo.  Ah, good times!  

We said goodbye to Jeff, Reema and Jack on a street corner.  They were headed back to their car so they could get to bed early and make it back to Dallas tomorrow in time for Reema’s work event that evening.  We are now back down to Jane, Danny, Cas, me and Dad.  Still a fantastic group.  The five of us went to Crescent City Brewery to sit still for a moment and have a beer or two, and we got back to the hotel kind of early.  It’s for the best- we’ve been moving pretty much nonstop for the past few days, and a little early-to-bed wouldn’t kill us.  

The plan tomorrow is to hit up our new faviorite breakfast spot, a place called Two Chicks, and head over to the World War II Museum with our 10 am tickets in hand.  After that, we shall see.  It’s supposed to be the number one attraction in all of New Orleans, and we’re ready to see it.  Today is the 77th anniversary of D-Day, so I can’t think of a better moment to check the place out.  More on that tomorrow.  Until then, good night from New Orleans.  

Photo album: https://photos.app.goo.gl/chay3CBSmG5aSwXr6

Big Nasty

So, it turns out when you’re a fifth-generation fisherman and shrimper in Louisiana there’s a fair chance you’ve nicknamed an alligator or two.  Ronnie was our guide today on an airboat trip around the swamp, and he had a particular 12-foot-long gator all picked out to show us.  He called that one “Big Nasty.”  There were others, including “Little Nasty,” but I digress.  

Where to begin- okay- today, we got on a shuttle just after 10:30 that took us to a swampy area.  Once there, we all donned plastic rain ponchos and took a seat on an airboat.  Our guide was Captain Ronny, and he sounded like he should be an airboat operator.  He said his family had been living in the area and working in the fishing and shrimping business for five generations.  We raced through the water on Ronny’s airboat to a spot where he knew we could see some alligators.  Then, he cruised to another stop, then another- until we had seen a whole lot of gators.  Ronny said Alligators respond to vibrations in the water, so when he tapped a long stick against the surface of the water, the gators came.  He would use marshmallows to entice the prehistoric animals toward his position by either floating them in the water or popping one on the end of a stick like he was about to roast it on a campfire.  It was raining the whole time we were on the boat, and for that, we were all glad for the ponchos.  They did a reasonably good job, but we’re all still drying out from the adventure.  

The whole thing was amazing.  The rain, the gators, the fifth-generation fisherman- everything balled up together to make this one of the strangest experiences I think any of us have had on a vacation.  I don’t really know what else to say, but it was so flippin’ cool.  Tick another item of my to-do list. That was certainly unique.  

Oh, and in case you’re keeping track, today was the day that Cas and I finally broke out the magic ponchos.  These are the rain ponchos we have taken on every trip we’ve gone on.  In fact, I took them on my 40th birthday trip with my dad the summer Cas and I first started dating.  Those ponchos are older than my marriage.  And they’ve been around the world.  I kind of wanted some sort of ceremony when we finally used them today, and as it turns out, they got a baptism by swamp water and rain.  I guess that did the trick.  

Anyhow, when everyone is dry, we will reassemble and head to our next destination- I think what’s on deck is a visit to the Sazerac house, where we’ll get a tour and a bit of a tasting.  Nothing to top off an airboat trip through a gator-filled swamp like a little booze.  

In the meantime, here we are with the ponchos, Ronny in the background and a little bit of rain. 

Photo album: https://photos.app.goo.gl/chay3CBSmG5aSwXr6

Saturday’s Shenanigans, part deux

Where did we leave off- Ah, Pat O’Brien’s- I called ahead to Pat O’Brien’s, just to check on the under-21 rules.  We had to walk in the Bourbon Street entrance to enter on the restaurant side.  We just came for the hurricane, so when the waiter explained the food rules, we ordered some appetizers- mostly to be in line with their rulebook, but also, because we had to eat a little bit of alligator.  I’m sure that’s some kind of New Orleans tourist cliche, but we tend to steer into the skid for stuff like that.  Hurricanes and bits of fried Gator, please!  It was a great time- and because of the rather over-the-top sash and “70” balloons Jane managed to materialize from her purse and inflate on the spot, strangers walking back to their table from the ladies’ room stopped to sing Happy Birthday to Dad.  It was pretty great.  

With a lot of rum and a little bit of gator tail in our stomachs, we made our way to Felix’s- another place somebody recommended.  We have a pretty long list of recommendations, actually, and I doubt we’ll ever run out of good food options in this city.  

From there, we went over to Frenchmen Street, an up-and-coming neighborhood where live music is the order of the day.  With a bit of wandering and a detour to play in a park, we got to a place where the music was good and we could sit in a courtyard.  This let us chat without yelling while we could still hear the band.  A good volume level, I’d say.  From there, we walked over to the river to have a look- it’s really pretty after dark.  

With that, we made our way to a restaurant for a muffuletta sandwich.  This is another item that is best when shared.  Often, a muffuletta sandwich is as big as a dinner plate.  The ones we managed to find were small- only two people were necessary to share each one, not four.  Still, wow.  What a great sandwich!  

That’s about it- I think that brings us back to now.  We got back to the hotel and our heads almost immediately hit the pillows.  I know today, we have an airboat tour booked, and after that, we have tickets to the Sazerac museum.  Beyond that, everything is negotiable.  

Oh, and because there’s always a photo- here’s Dad and Jane outside of Felix’s, waiting for a table.  It’s so darn cool that she came along on this trip!  

Photo album: https://photos.app.goo.gl/chay3CBSmG5aSwXr6

Mission accomplished

This morning, Cas and I got out of bed, cleaned ourselves up and met up with Dad, Jane and Danny at our hotel.  Jeff, Reema and Jack had their breakfast closer to the place they were staying, and we had breakfast at Pere Antoine Restaurant.  We split three omelets between five people, and it worked out perfectly.  We were paying the check when Jeff  walked into the restaurant with Jack and Reema.  

In the time it took for us to get from the hotel to breakfast, we walked past several cool things- a courthouse of epic proportions, a few really neat courtyards, and about a million people whose fashion choices were questionable.  Dad and Dan stopped at a hat shop run by a company called Goorin Brothers, to which they are both very loyal customers.  There was a very spectacular half-price deal on dad’s absolute favorite hat.  We had actually searched for that exact hat online, only to arrive at the conclusion that it had been discontinued.  We’re pretty sure he may have found the last one of that particular hat in his size.  He had to have it.  Danny picked up a pair of hats, as well, leading us to the next place on the path, and the next- all of which put us just a little too late to get to the carousel bar in time to score a seat on the fancy, revolving bar stools.  No matter.  Apparently, Jack would not have been welcome to sit at the bar, anyhow.  Oh, to be 19... 

Nevertheless, Dad’s whole mission was to come to New Orleans and have a Hurricane at Pat O’Brien’s.  Mission accomplished.  I am currently a little too tired to tell the tale of the rest of today, so here’s a photo from this afternoon, and a promise for more later.  I will write about the rest of today in the morning, when my eyes are more likely to stay open.  

Here’s dad, wearing some beads and a sash Jane bought him.  He’s either a very good sport or a very kind sibling.  Jury’s still out: 

Photo album: https://photos.app.goo.gl/chay3CBSmG5aSwXr6

Almost famous

A moment for a personal aside: 

When Cas and I go out to restaurants, he sometimes gets spotted. We’ll just be eating a hamburger or ordering a drink, and we’ll hear, “Mr. Dunlap?”  It actually happens to him more often than it happens to me. I’ve always found this strange, because in sheer numbers, I’ve taught way more kids than he has. Add 19 years of teaching up with anywhere from 120-200 kids a year, and people are bound to remember you now and then, but he gets spotted more frequently.  I can only assume his former students like the same restaurants as we do, and my former students eat elsewhere.  Usually, though, there is a certain amount of anonymity in travel- enough that you can do a Segway tour or ride one of those electric razor scooters, looking like a first-rate idiot, and you can be sure nobody you know will see.  

Whelp, I guess those days are over. I got spotted in New Orleans last night. I was wearing a fabric face mask and sitting on a streetcar, and a former student knew me. I’m basically famous, now. The child (my gosh, she’s an adult, actually!) had graduated from the school where I was teaching in 2013.  That’s what made the whole thing even more impressive.  Certainly, she’s been had plenty of time to forget my face in the intervening eight years, but somehow, she knew it was me with only half of my face visible!  I suspect she’s 26.  I was grateful that she introduced herself, and after that I knew just who she was, what clubs she was in, etc. I don’t think I ever actually taught her in a classroom, but a high school is a community, and you end up knowing a lot of people.  

As we were hopping off of the streetcar last night, she said goodbye, and even wished my dad a a happy birthday.  What a nice kid!  (I mean, what a nice 26 year old...) 

Just a strange moment from our travels.  I’d  better be on good behavior from here on in- or change my hairstyle- who knows how many other former students are lurking around this city. 

Photo album: https://photos.app.goo.gl/chay3CBSmG5aSwXr6

22,524 steps

I guess the answer to the question, “Why do I keep yawning?” is that, just now, Cas’ Fitbit read that he had walked 22,524 steps.  What we decided to do after our nap was wander around a while until we were reasonably certain Dad’s sister Jane would be close to the hotel.  We actually went to a nice, little bar that, much to Dad’s delight, had the same tasty Milk Porter he had enjoyed at the Purple Drank place.  We also walked to a hotel where a friend of his recommended we get a drink, but the place was so packed that we couldn’t begin to find a seat.  We will go back another day, though, because the bar is a carousel from an amusement park with rotating barstools and everything.  Maybe tomorrow.  

After we stuck around there for a moment, we went back to the hotel to greet my Aunt Jane.  When she checked in, we all got on the streetcar and headed through the garden district to a place Cas remembers from his brother Chad’s days at Tulane.  We walked into Cooter Brown’s and ordered some rum punch drinks along with a few appetizers that none of us should probably eat, but all of us enjoyed.  That was when Jeff, Reema and Jack arrived. Actually, just Jeff walked into the bar- apparently, Jack isn’t quite old enough to walk in the door.  Live and learn- I forgot there were places that would exclude one person from a party of eight because he’s 19...  Even if his dad and grandfather walk in with him...  

So, we went to a restaurant that Cas referred to as a greasy spoon.  I found it to be a really nice diner, and in no way greasy.  It certainly had character, I will say that.  It was called The Camellia Grill.  

Jane was so happy with her grilled cheese and tomato soup that the waiter was visibly taken aback with her response.  Apparently, it was some spectacular soup/sandwich combo.  After that, we attempted to locate some daiquiris, but we appeared to be in a part of town with a lot of rules about younger folks and their presence in bars.  Could have something to do with the proximity to many major universities.  

After that was a bust, we let Jeff and Reema head back to their Air bnb- they were a little wiped out.  I guess they didn’t get an afternoon nap like the rest of us did.  Cas, Jane, Dad, Dan and I headed back to our hotel via the streetcar, stopping early in the French Quarter.  Jane had never been to New Orleans before today, and certainly, the best way to see Bourbon Street for the first time is after dark on a Friday night.  It was pretty amazing.  From there, we walked over to Jackson Square to get an after-dark view of it, heading back to the hotel on a decidedly scenic path.  

By the time we got back to our hotel, we were wiped out for the second time today.  All in all, it was an excellent day, and I am really happy we’re celebrating Dad’s 70th birthday this way.  I’m calling it a win so far, but we’re only 22,524 steps into this journey.  

Photo album: https://photos.app.goo.gl/chay3CBSmG5aSwXr6

Purple Drank

Wow, 6 am is an early time to fly anywhere.  Our best deal for the flight, though, was exactly then.  That means we all had to be in one place at 4:30 to get to the airport by 5.  Breakfast would have to have occurred at 3:30 or 4, so we arrived in New Orleans hungry.  After a cab ride to the hotel, we checked in (seven hours early!  Well done, Hampton Inn!) and located a seafood omelet.  Wow.  Fueled with that, we walked to the French Quarter, then to the riverfront, then back to the French Quarter... Cas’ Fitbit registered 10,000 steps before noon.  After a stop at a bar on Bourbon Street, we all headed the long way back to the hotel.  A nap is in order, as the rest of our party is arriving this afternoon and this evening, and it would be a shame if we were all tired out when they arrive.  

I need to write this down, though, mostly so I don’t forget it- Dad and Danny had a beer from a brewery called Gnarly Barley.  The beer was something like a milk porter- Can’t remember, but if we ever see it again, I need to buy it and bring it to my dad.  It was good- I had a sip, but Cas and I had to have the ominous looking “Purple Drank.”  I mean, it had a handwritten sign on the side of the machine that spat out the purple stuff, and there was no explanation offered to what was in there.  A mysterious, unexplained purple beverage?  Don’t mind if I do!  

Anyhow, enough for now- the idea of a nap is too ingrained in my mind, now, and I need to have one.  

I’ll write more later, and certainly, Cas will make up a photo album.  I mean, it’s his job when we travel, right?  

Until then, sweet dreams! 

UPDATE: Cas made a photo album.  Here you go: https://photos.app.goo.gl/chay3CBSmG5aSwXr6

Longtime listener, first time caller

When Cas and I go on trips, our families read this blog.  On Friday, for the first time since we began writing about our travels, some of our usual readers will be appearing here.  

While I typically don't blog about family trips, this is a special occasion.  My dad went and turned 70 a few days ago, and to celebrate, a whole bunch of us are headed to New Orleans.  I am actually taking a few days off of work for the trip, which is something I never do.  Cas, fortunately, is all done for the year.  It's shocking how badly a global pandemic can throw off your schedule.  Nevertheless, once the idea came, we had to do it.  Dad, Dan, Cas and I have tickets to head out on a Southwest flight.  Jeff, Reema and Jack are coming along for a part of the time, road-tripping from home, and as a really neat bonus, dad's youngest sibling, my Aunt Jane is coming all the way from Minneapolis.  

I am, as always, grateful for my main travel partner.  He has way more detailed knowledge of New Orleans than the rest of us combined- his brother went to college there.  I get it- when your brother lives somewhere else, you go visit.  When the Army put Jeff in Hawaii or Italy, I visited!  To be fair, I also came when they put him in Kansas and Georgia.  The point is, you visit...  And in doing that, he learned a lot of New Orleans geography, making him our de facto tour guide.  

So, we head out early on Friday morning, and after that I will certainly keep you posted!  

Laissez le bon temps rouler!