Our first stop was Sam Houston Jones State Park at Lake Charles, Louisiana. Sweet, southwestern swampland filled with the most unusual smells and critters.
We went out for a day to drive from Sulfur through the bayous and back ways on the Creole Nature Trail. We spent wonderful hours out in the marshlands, prairies, wildlife refuges and on the Gulf of Mexico shoreline photographing the flora and fauna and ‘sniffing’ out a whole new world of smells, sights and sounds. It was a bit windier than I liked but we had a good time finding lots of birds and a few alligators. This was the first time I became aware of the number of refineries and pipelines out in the Gulf and ‘ribboning’ across the swamps. It’s a weird sort of beauty.
Cajun is a corruption of the word Acadian and is indicative of the influence of Indian, Portuguese, French and Spanish on the language of these people. Way different and way hard to understand. Cajuns are actually immigrants from Canada and settled in the southwestern region of Louisiana in sweet little places like St. Martinsville. We stopped at a little riverside park there which was created to commemorate Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem, “Evangeline.” The poem is based on the love story of two refugees from the Acadia region of Canada who presumably met at this very spot.
The oaks in this part of the world are beyond spectacular! We were astounded by the sheer number and enormity of these beauties. As an example, on the way out of the Lake Fausse Point State Park, we found this lovely spot known as Oak and Pine Alley. Planted by a sugar planter in the 19th century, the 1 mile long lane had a very pleasant feel about it. The breeze was blowing the Spanish moss and branches around and the stormy changing light just made the whole experience special. I found the sheer size and evident longevity of these matriarchs sort of comforting.
Everything seemed to grow with enthusiasm, even the common thistles took on a special size and beauty.
We asked at the local store where we should go for some authentic Louisiana cuisine. Lou’s Grill was the place and boy were they right – smothered pork chops, black-eyed peas, rice and mustard greens – soulful, so good, southern cooking done right by a down home group of friendly women. I loved Penny’s attitude (she described herself as short and round just like a penny!) because she was willing to let me lick and nuzzle her even though she announced she was deathly afraid of big dogs! Thus I can keep my reputation in tact as the official Ambassador of Good Will and Wags. It all turned out to be the best food and one of the nicest experiences we had in the entire state!
Kae’s Sis, Jeannie, had visited a wonderful place a few years back and encouraged us to visit: The McIlhenney Tabasco Factory and Jungle Gardens on Avery Island. Avery Island is an interesting geological phenomenon as it is the top of an incredibly large salt dome more than eight miles deep! There are five of these salt dome islands. They were created from a vast sheet of salt left over when an ancient ocean covering what is now Texas, Louisiana and Mississippi evaporated. Only the uppermost tip of this salt mountain rises above the surrounding marshes. A thin layer of top soil supports the rich flora, fauna and pepper farming of the island. The salt is mined by the Tabasco Co. to be used in the fermentation and processing of the famous sauce. Back in the 1860’s, Mr. Edmund McIlhenny invented a savory sauce for his family and friends using some peppers from Mexico given to him by friends. It was so popular he turned it into a business that now sells in more than 120 countries and produces more than 750,000 bottles per day!! They were processing sauce in the factory so they took the tour.
The Store itself was a scenic trip and of course the Gal Pals just had to try some of the new products. They recommend the Chipotle Tabasco Sauce and the Hot & Sweet Pickles. There are about 125 families living and working on the island in the factory, the mine and out in the fields. Pepper plants are only grown on Avery Island then harvested each year for their seeds. The seeds are exported to Central and South America, where the actual Tabasco pepper plants are cultivated and harvested at the peak of ripeness. The peppers are then processed back on Avery Island into an astounding array of products. We didn’t try the pepper ice cream, though!
Mr. E.A. McIlhenny, son of Edmund, was a noted naturalist and explorer. Beginning in 1892 he dedicated himself to saving the Snowy Egret by selecting a few from the island population and encouraging them to nest and raise fledglings in a lagoon known as Bird City. The elegant mating plumage, called nuptial sigrettes, was a prized fashion accessory in the late nineteenth century thus the birds had been hunted to near extinction. Now, some 20,000 of these elegant birds nest on the island each year on specially built bamboo platforms. An interesting side bar is that the adult birds do not hunt in the lagoon of Bird City but travel several miles to feed in the coastal marshes thus preserving the pond fish for their youngsters who are not yet strong enough for the migration journeys to Central and South America.
E.A. McIlhenney also created amazing specimen gardens on some 250 acres of Avery Island. The Jungle Gardens were laid out with scenic ‘grottos’ emphasizing specific specimens such as azaleas, camellias, wisteria or bamboo. There are thousands of plants and trees and hundreds of different species. He also collected objects d’ art including an 800 year old Chinese Buddha in a lovely little temple in an oriental garden setting. We strolled for quite a while and only saw a fraction of the beauty.
We left Cajun country and traveled eastward to Bayou Segnette State Park south of New Orleans. We decided the Ladies would venture into New Orleans the next day and I would stay on Pod Patrol in the Algiers Point Ferry parking lot.
They hit the ground running right over to Mothers, the food place they had heard about from a couple of different folk. There was a line and a 20 minute wait. (Things weren’t looking good!) When they got inside it was pure chaos with too many folks in too small a space, with bad organization and more waiting. It turned out the food was no big whoop either.
Off they went to catch a trolley down Canal Street which is reportedly the widest main street in the US. It gets its width and name from a proposed, but never constructed, canal. It eventually became the physical and symbolic dividing line between two competing municipalities. The large central median was called the neutral ground, a name that is now used for all medians throughout the city. Even with modern high rises and commercial buildings, you can get a sense of the architectural history of the street.
They jumped off the trolley in the vicinity of the French Quarter and Bourbon Street to walk around while trying to capture the flavor and uniqueness of this famous area. Of course, the architecture alone is worth the trip, but just the carnival atmosphere of each street and business is unique, even a bit overwhelming. The gargantuan efforts to erase the effects of Hurricane Katrina were evident everywhere in the French Quarter and elsewhere in New Orleans.
In celebration of the South, Kae suggested they stop in a cool, local pub and have a mint julep. They picked Pat O’Brien’s Bar and Restaurant on St. Peter’s Street because it looked so inviting, had a patio and is housed in a great 1700’s building.
Refreshed and ready for more they continued their stroll on toward the Mighty Mississippi. Ambling ever southward, trying to capture the beauty and funkiness, they walked right into Jackson Square. Artists, musicians, flowers, wonderful buildings, it was all there to enjoy.
Huh?
Just a short block south was the “Big Muddy” and the Riverwalk, filled with more music, bustling river traffic, break dancers, bicyclists, joggers, strollers and sitters. Again, nothing of the devastation of nearly three years ago is evident. Oh sure, you can see some debris if you really look for it, but in these areas you really have to look hard.
Holocaust Memorial
When they saw the Mississippi at its near end it made the Gals remember their visit to the headwaters at Lake Itasca, Minn. What an amazing contrast!
Back on the ferry, over the latte-colored waters and back to the Pod with the proud and noble Pod Protector!! (It was a great snooze, but I really was glad to see my Ladies.)
I have to tell you I had one of the most exasperating experiences of my entire 70 years when we were staying at Bayou Segnette State Park across the mighty Mississippi from New Orleans. It was the Friday night of Easter weekend and the place was packed. The folks on all sides of us started pulling out the biggest cooking pots I had ever seen; I mean you could bath a Great Dane in those pots! They would set them up on propane burner racks, fill them with water and crab boil mixture or beer or who knows what, light the fires and have a drink. Then they would drag over these huge ice chests and pop open the lids, stand back, have a drink and compliment each other on the things in those chests, all in the local, hard to understand Cajun, Creole or French or whatever. All I recognized was fish, crawfish, oysters or shrimp, not by name but by smell. Then they would all sit down at tables and begin to shell, pick and munch. My salivary glands were working overtime. The darker it got the lighter and happier they got and the better things began to smell! Did they see how I was suffering? No! Did they do the neighborly thing and bring me over even some scraps? No! I tried everything to get their attention but they were just too busy and too happy with all that food and drink and I was too far away on the end of a very short cable. I find life to be a little cruel sometimes.
The effects of Hurricane Katrina actually did become more visible as we traveled out of the main ‘burbs and into the outlying areas. There was still a palpable sense of loss and ongoing struggle in the decaying homes and small businesses, in the mountainous debris piles and in the broken forests. But Mother Nature does prevail and in every sorrowful scene one could see the return of life in the small newness of plants and sprouts. The Human Spirit prevails also as seen in the loving restoration of majestic old homes, in the brightness of new little houses and in the bravery of new commerce. The symbolism was so apparent – remembering, renewal, return. Well, y’all, that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. Lazin’ through Louisiana has been quite an adventure. I would say we’ve found friendlier folks in other places but you sure can’t beat the diversity of the scenery. The culture and languages make it feel very much like you were in a completely foreign country, but we agreed it was all very interesting and differently beautiful.
No comments:
Post a Comment