In Search of Dinner

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Thanksgiving was our real reason for leaving New Orleans we could have stayed but in all likelihood we would have spent it with other travellers at the hostel and that’s it. We would have got a free dinner and seen a Thanksgiving parade but as Robert Parish would soon find out. I like to gamble to try and get the outstanding than the standard. Sometimes it works out other times it doesn’t.



As we drove through the slum area east of New Orleans we passed average cars with doors that open up instead of out. Cars bolstered up and massive glittering hubcaps as we turned onto the highway. Constantly talking about how we should go back. A few times we almost did because hey it made sense. But full credit to Parish he knew the decision to move on was a hangover stupid move but we kept going. The road trip is supposed to be spontaneous and Parish was along for the ride as much as I was.



The idea was to get into a family Thanksgiving dinner. I had a few ideas on how this could be achieved. The first and obvious one was to rock up in front of a Wal-Mart (the major supermarket chain) with a sign saying, “Happy Thanksgiving! Two Australians keen to have a traditional Thanksgiving dinner!” Americans would lap that stuff up. It is amazing how kind and friendly this nation is to its visitors especially when you are white Anglo looking Australian (I hear a few people say.)



The other great one I came up with was we should go to a Thanksgiving church ceremony. Pretend we are all religious and there we’d feast up with some large family. There’d always be leftovers, how could they refuse?



But the latter option was too late since we didn’t get started until midday. We were heading to Lafayette a small town in the south of Louisiana State. There I found a place that was going to play music - a Cajun Jam session in a small bar that had potential to go off.



With the nightlife covered we needed to sort out dinner. We arrived to a complete ghost town. It was a hostel style set up with a bed and breakfast look in a cosy home atmosphere. We went out to the local pub in hope that something is on in town. It was one of only two places open. The pub did however have some free thanksgiving dinner so that with $2 beers we were content to be positive.



We headed back to hopefully see some Cajun Jam but it didn’t happen in fact no one came to play. This was our first realisation that travelling around Thanksgiving is an awful time to travel the states. Parish pointed out soon enough that I had made a dud call on this one. We were lucky however to get the closest thing to a family dinner as we could hope for.



About 80% of the people staying there were College students from New Orleans and since most lived in the north of the country decided to take the long weekend to Lafayette. They told me that it’s not worth travelling all the way and back for a few days when you are going to do it for Xmas in 6 weeks time.



They had the whole deal with a massive turkey and after our first dinner I didn’t have my fill and when offered to join in, I didn’t hold back. Parish did for a while until everyone gave him shit and he stocked up too. So our mission to get a home made dinner turned into two thanksgiving dinners. I got to cut up the turkey in the end so a pretty good experience.



The key question for both of us was, was it worth missing out on an extra night in New Orleans. It’s a tough one because there was an itinerary we took and any other time of year for the rest of the trip up to Memphis would have been gold. In the end it left us a little deflated and here’s why.



Only a bit over an hour north is the capital of Louisiana, Baton Rogue. Had we been in New Orleans an extra day we wouldn’t have made it to here in time. Prior research revealed that LSU (the university of Louisiana) the number 1 seed were playing neighbouring state Arkansas ranked 3 at the time. It was the last game of the football regular season from what I recall and the winner would be #1 seed going into the Bowl’s.



There was an Australian from Melbourne playing for LSU Brad Wing. As Australians we decided if it comes up in conversation we will act like we are good mates with his older brother. Because of are close relationship with him we’d call him ‘Wingy’. “So Wingy is doing alright for you guys this year!” that sort of stuff.



My mission was to try and get to a frat party for at least the pre-game drinks. We follow the long line of cars that were coming from all round the state. In fact Parish did an excellent “Hello America!” move by cutting in on a car near the exit saving us at least 10 minutes of waiting time in the line.



$10 to park the car and we walk the streets. It was Parish’s first college experience and the energy that comes out can lift the spirits of two weary travellers. I used my prior knowledge of the college set up and where frat houses would be in location to the stadium.



What you look for is a street that is big enough to fit houses on both sides but not the main arterial road. We came in on the main drag so that wasn’t it. Blocked off by sporting facilities like an Athletics track that’s almost equal to Sydney’s major athletics track. We continued anti clockwise around the stadium.



We passed many tailgate parties decked out in a light purple and yellow. Some people painted their dogs in the local teams colours. It didn’t take long for Robert to realise that LSU were the Tigers and he automatically announced that LSU was his college team based purely on his Richmond Tigers fascination.



We looked for scalpers to see if we could get in but in all honesty it was never going to happen. This was one of the biggest games in college football for the year and our meek budget of $50 max would not cut the mustard.



We grabbed ourselves some Jambalaya a typical Louisiana dish made of 3 parts, of meat, vegetables and rice, which was pretty much everywhere in the south. I’ve gained a high tolerance for spices, which I plastered on here but I’ll get to that later.



We moved on trying to find that illusive street. Music is not an indicator because the whole place is pumping at the tailgate parties. Almost in full circle we reach a large oval (I briefly got excited thinking it’s a cricket pitch but it wasn’t.) It’s close to kick off and I see a potential street just out the back of the large oval.



We walk there and there we have it. frat houses everywhere. They usually are a previous century style building with Greek letters above the door. Hoping for the place to be packed, all we got was a bunch of empty cans, a bunch of dirty couches sitting on the front lawn and a few stragglers. So yet again I missed the boat to the true frat party experience.



With the game about to kick off we found a bar only about 10 footsteps away from the campus. Inside they had a large movie theatre screen that played the game live with the music band at the game streamed through.



Our energy levels were down mine more so than Parish as he started to get into it. Eventually I got my groove as we boasting out an all American “YEEEAAAAHHHH!” whenever there was a sack or a 3^rd down not completed by Arkansas. A couple of the other chants were bowing to the team whenever something good happened and “Oh Eh Oh you suck” and a lot of Tiger calls.



I don’t know what happened but we ended up sleeping in the car for an hour after the game that’s how drained our bodies were. Once awake we went to Buffalo Wild Wings restaurant. If you recall back at Ann Arbor I was defeated by the hottest sauce I’ve ever had. My tongue took about 15 minutes to get normal feeling again.



I came back for more. Robert Parish was not there for that incident and for over a month had seen me go through every hot sauce available with not a sweat or a second thought in eating. This time he was ready for me to meet my match.



There were a few mental issues to go through before my first bite. I was resignedly beaten last start at the “Blazing! Screaming” sauce level. So as I took a first bite, a dry tear had evaporated by the time it came out from my eye. This is how hot we are talking about. Every hot sauce you get gets the same response from the waitress. “You know it’s really hot! Are you sure you want to try it?”



They then keep an eye on you hoping to get the same pleasurable experience Robert was hoping for - That of me struggling. But it was not meant to be. Sure it was hot and the hottest I had thus far but I had tamed my demon, I now felt invincible and no challengers. My pallet could take anything. Considering I wasn’t much into spices 2 months earlier I was quite impressed with myself. Parish and the waitress too although Parish was slightly disappointed.



We heard that the true nightlife was congregated to one area, which was just full of dive bars. A small area nowhere near the stadium. We were not really pissed and at a 0.08% alcohol limit to drive I was safe. We got there and as the designated driver Parish needed to get pissed up again all by himself and we just weren’t in the mood. If we had a place to stay it may have changed our thinking. But during a football night the hotels go up in price and book out pretty quickly.



Instead we drove what probably was a nice scenic drive accept it was dark. We crossed into Mississippi State where unfortunately the only bed we found was a small double in a small room. No room for King or Queen, no Jacks. No room for a wardrobe to hang up the suits. Keeping our hands close to our chest the only flush we had all night was at the door that could only close slightly ajar in the bathroom – The things you do for travel.



I have one rule when it comes to sleeping in the same bed as a fellow male traveller. A pillow divider is needed, I know my sexuality but just the thought of being spooned by a mate doesn’t sit well with me. The other thing is that we could cross swords at night. Just too many horrible scenarios. So with my Wal-Mart pillow as a divider we called it a night and ready for the next instalment of music.

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Photos

The Buffalo Wings
What the hottest look like