USA Tour - Day 2 Destin FLA to New Orleans

Today was a comparatively short sprint to allow us some time to explore New Orleans. We left early in the morning after the arrival of the campers and two new members of the group, Steve and Tom McCarthy!

We followed the road round the Gulf coast towards Pensacola. The whole road seemed to be a continuous long, one street town with eating establishments and shops. The Roadside was lined with tall trees climbing above the buildings, every now and then the tallest trees, the advertising boards, sneaked above the rest to announce the next eating place. Helmets were donned as we passed briefly through Alabama. Much of the area seemed to be very green and swampy with the land barely afloat. We crossed the long bridge over Mobile bay and then passed into Mississippi. Mississippi was again mainly swampy, wetlands with large and small lakes and river inlets and the every now and then the road became like a bridge raised slightly above the soggy terrain on stilts.

It seemed the Southern states we passed through were in line for elections with countless boards announcing "Joe Bloggs for Sheriff" or "John Doe for School Commissioner" and finally the busiest post that of "Election Organiser" or some similar job.

The city skyline announced that we had reached New Orleans and headed for the main bridge across the mighty Mississippi to get to the Harley dealer on the West Side. 45 minutes and several t-shirts later the tour group headed back over the river towards the French Quarter where we found our hotel. Right on Bourbon Street The Royal Sonesta is a fine old build with a slightly scruffy exterior which doesn't do the interior justice. The reception area is a mass of chandeliers, gold and marble from and age when luxury was more luxurious and no expense spared on décor.

The group caused a little stir as we held up traffic to get the bikes parked in front of the hotel and get a nice picture of the bikes in Bourbon Street right in front of the hotel. Horns blared and tooted but we just took our time, hell we didn't get here every day. Even in late afternoon the buzz was amazing. The street was a succession of bars, restaurants, nightclubs and strip joints which were already primed and ready for the rest of the night. A man stood at the door of the bar opposite and shouted in an incomprehensible language no doubt saying how wonderful his establishment was.

We checked in, showered and changed and met in the bar ready for a look around before meeting up at Ron's "Dive". Charlie and myself had agreed to get kilted up before meeting in the bar. As I left one of the doorman who looked a pretty cool dude even in hotel uniform announced "hey man, cool skirt" I think I could fit in in "N'awrlins"

During the stroll it started to rain and we'd taken shelter in an Irish bar where our kilts caught the eye of two women keen to know the truth!! Michelle enlightened them and unusually her word seemed to satisfy their curiosity so the usual demonstration was not required

We posed beside the river and watched two musicians play then wandered the square where a band played for coins thrown in a bucket. A man played a bass made from a washtub and broomhandle and was completely in tune despite the primitive construction of his instrument. We strolled round the French market and browsed the tourist shops which all seemed to play the same track of "Cajun" music.

Ron's dive is called "The Stage Door" and if it's seen better days they must have been a long time ago. Dark, dingy, seedy and living up to its French heritage with the dirtiest, smelliest toilets we saw on the whole trip. My visit to the ablutions made my nose wrinkle with the smell of stale urine and persuaded me I may not need again for some time. At the bar were various characters, all of who made even our worst looking group member look like Adonis in comparison. A full set of teeth and all limbs were the exception but we were made very welcome and the beer was cold. The guy who we took to be the owner wandered around making everyone his best friend and one of the local ladies took a group shot with about 14 cameras so we'd all have a copy.

Getting hungry we set off in search of some Cajun food and found a restaurant nearby. Most of us plumped for a special which gave a taste of a few local dishes. Gumbo, Etoufe(sp) and Jambalaya among the offerings. It was here I tried my very first oyster and only because it was fried instead of raw and in the shell, very nice!

By now night had fallen, the neon was bright, the streets full of revellers and rowdy groups of bead bearing men trying to tempt young women to earn the beads in the traditional N'awrlins manner. Several bead laden young women must have been only too willing to bear their titties while other more coy girls took more persuasion. I was amazed that none of the ladies offered me some beads to find out what's under my kilt, you Americans are much more reserved than the continentals who were very keen to check.....disappointing!

Off to bed for an earlyish start in the morning. As I arose at 5.30 to the sound of a solitary saxophone the last of the night-clubs were just closing up and spewing the last stragglers on to the streets having extracted their money and provided their fun in return. I made a mental note to return to New Orleans one day.