To New Orleans

HWe departed Panama City Beaches aft the usual breakfast.  We drove along Beachfront Road in the mistaken belief that we would be hugging the shore - not so dear friends, we soon realised that the beaches were on average 14 miles from the road.  We weren't making much progress driving through town after town and as they all appeared to be the  same, we joined I - 10 and progressed towards the Alabama border.  

The borders are spectacular areas as each State is divided from the next by a very impressive bridge traversing a massive inlet. 

 

At each state line, we were to discover a Welcome Centre which provided travellers with maps and information about the state . All I had known about Alabama were words from a song I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee... - for you dear readers old enough to remember!! 

On entering the Centre the following notice accosted our eyes - unusual by our standards but as we know the gun lobby is powerful  in the USA 

We continued towards Mississippi (I remember learning to spell it at school)?) again we crossed a spectacular bridge into the state  and again stopped at the Welcome Centre 

I don't recall being in either state before  but I possibly slept through as, as a student,  I traversed the US from

Pennsylvania to Niagra Falls across the Mid West to Vancouver, down the West  coast to Disneyland and San Francisco over to New Orleans; to Little Rock, Arkansas (does that little town ring any bells?) And thence to Wasington DC  and NYC - all in 21 days for $99 rambler Greyhound bus ticket!!! 

Onwards to Louisiana 

and as we crossed the bridge into the state, we were treated to a spectacular sunset.

The lady at the Welcome Centre had stayed in our hotel Le Richelieu and recommended it highly. It had been recommended to us by a neighbour and it had the advantage of being situated in the French Quarter while having secure car parking. We were given hotel directions at the Centre which was useful as the sat nav decided to lose satellite connection once we arrived in the French Quarter. A kindly passerby directed us - we were nearby but as it was dark, the street signs were difficult to see- luckily we spotted Chartres St. ; the hotel's location. 

We checked in. It is a beautiful, characterful hotel teeming with antique furniture and festooned for Christmas

 We hurriedly went to our room and quitted it within minutes as the procession in honour of Joan of Arc's birthday (January 6th) was about to commence and would pass a block from our hotel. 

It was a spectacular sight reminiscent of the Easter processions in Spain, with Joan of Arc siting astride a horse. 

The town was a buzz. It is as if all the hippies retired to here- though of a younger generation than the 1960s vintage. People are hanging about the streets drinking , dancing - all in good spirits. We adjourned to Coops 

recommended by the hotel and a former pastor, now turned carpenter whom we met while watching the procession.  Coops served traditional fare - I had Jumbaliah and my companion had a tasting plate of Creole food. Unusual for the States no dessert featured on the menu. I had remembered Jumbalaya 

as mentioned in a song and only now did I realise it was a dish. 

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Homemade_Jambalaya.JPG

It is a creole dish  akin to a Spanish Paella but French Provence has a similar dish so it appears an amalgam of the two traditions. It was delicious if a little spicier than the Spanish paella.  France controlled Louisiana, then the Spanish, then the French again until it was sold to the US so the influences of both European rulers influence their food, architecture and street signage. 

The streets were alive. It was a Mardi Gras  atmosphere. We retired - it had been a long day driving!