New Orleans

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28th March - The train journey from Memphis to New Orleans
There are huge freight trains in the US, I counted one five-engine train pulling 177 trucks, and they take precednce over passenger trains, which was lucky for us the day we left Memphis. We were due to catch a train at 6.50am to come to New Orleans. Those of you who know me will not be surprised to hear that I nearly missed a train, as I have a reputation for being late. but those of you who know Kevin may be as he seems to leave a large margin for error, and then some.
We'd booked a cab the night before from the driver who gave us a lift home after the City Blues Cafe. He seemed friendly, chatty and reliable, from Kenya and an Arsenal supporter, as apparently many Kenyans are. He was due to come at 6am, we were there at 5.50 and at 6.10 we rang to see if he was on his way. Receiving no answer we rang another cab firm. At 6.25 no-one had shown up and we were beginning to panic, ringing other cab firms and asking starngers round the hotel if they were going into town. At 6.38 a cab showed up and said he'd try to get us to the station, assuring us that the trains were often late.
We set off at speed, dodging through the early morning traffic, and round to the back of the station to avoid the downtown traffic lights. We turned a corner and there was our train pulling out. We stopped and stared at it. Consterantion - the next train didn't go for another 24 hours. 'Where is the next station?' I asked wondering if we could catch it up, the trains don't go very fast. 'Mississippi' said the driver.
I wouldn't mind another day in Memphis, but we weren't sure how Amtrak would deal with it and we already had a hotel booked in New Orleans.
Suddenly the train stopped, waiting for a freight train ahead of it. The driver took us round to the side of the station to the tracks, and helped Kev get the bags out, while I shot over to the stationary train, banged on the door and yelled for the conductor.No-one appeared, but the door was unlocked so we threw the bags in and climbed on. Luckily there are no live rails here and the tracks are unfenced - we wouldn't have been able to do this in the UK. The conductor tutted a little, said it might have been dangerous, but didn't suggest throwing us off.

New Orleans - 28th March to 2nd April
The hotel we've booked for New Orleans is perfectly placed - right in the middle of the French Quarter between Royal Street (daytime street entertainers, art galleries and interesting shops) and Bourbon Street (nightlife of bars, restaurants and strip clubs). Music pours out of every doorway and fuses into a cacophony in the middle of the street. New Orleans seems to be a popular spot for hen and stag parties and is the obvious place for three god-botherers to set up with their placards. They were brave - several strollers took exception to their stance and were arguing the toss. I wanted to get my red pen out for the placard that suggested Jesus needed to save 'Mormon's, Homosexual's, Liberal's, Catholic's, Communist's, Muslim's' and a host of others. On the way back, fuelled by alcohol I probably would have done, but they had gobe by then, possibly moved on by the police who were standing nearby keeping an eye on things.

Satrurday - We went on a guided bus tour and saw many of the sights and neighbouhoods in the city. New Orleans was under French and then Spanish rule until 1803 when the US bought it into the Union. Loius Armstrong is one of the city's famous sons and has a park named after him, near the cemetery where Easy Rider was filmed. We visited one of the other cemeteries - the bodies are buried above ground as the water table is so high, and many are beautifully decorated. We toured areas where Katrina had struck, seeing watermarks 10 feet up on the walls, empty lots where shopping malls used to be, and a house that was knocked off its foundations and rested against a tree. Many people are still living in trailers, they can't afford to repair their homes yet and there has been little Federal help. According to a news item I heard yesterday, some of those lucky enough to get Federal help have been overpaid and will have to pay it back.

Sunday we did little apart from watching a few street bands, taking the ferry over the Mississippi River to Algier Point, and taking our washing to the laundry that used to be J and M's recording studio where Little Richard recorded Tutti Frutti. Kev went to the main cemetery in the morning and left me languishing, recovering from one too many Hand Grenades ('the most powerful drink in New Orleans') - which had a delayed reaction and exploded at 6am, leaving me a limp wreck. The drink tasted like soda pop. but I should have believed the advertising, or at least not had two glasses of wine with dinner beforehand.
Of course, it may not have been the alcohol that made me sick, it may have been a overdose of vegetables. For the first time since I've been in the US I had a meal which had more vegetables than meat. Usually a meal consists of 1lb of meat and a huge pile of chips or mash. Even the smalles burgers are a third of 1lb. And the sizes of the puddings are enormous - three or four times the size of UK portions. One of my readers has translated my Moon and Mars weight into Earth weight and commented on it. I had noticed my clothes were getting tight, and yesterday when I tried to cross my legs, they didn't want to stay crossed. I'm obviously developing thunder thighs.

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