Day 14: On the way to Naw’lans

13 May 2011
I was awakened by dew on the tall trees above forming into larger water droplets and falling down onto my hammock, penetrating the bug net and splashing my face. It wasn’t the most comfortable way to wake up, but the temperature was nice. As we got ready we even had a neighboring campsite's dog hanging out with us. Mike named him Chowder. He followed me into the woods a bit while I took pictures and even responded to my commands when I was ready to return to the campsite.


The random guy from DC named Mike, who previously did a similar trip, recommended we check out the gulf shore islands. Many of them require a ferry to get to or leave, but luckily one was on our way to Pensacola and allowed us to ride onto it on one end and ride off the other. I believe it was Santa Rosa Island. Boy am I thankful to him for sharing that with us! Both ends of the Island were populated much like many southern coastal areas. But the middle bit that stretches for miles is nothing but bleach-white sand and gorgeous blue waters with nary a person in sight.



Neither of us had ever planned to visit the Naval Aviation Museum at Pensacola Naval Air Station. That is until we had several different people tell us that it was very well done. So even though we had the deadline of 4PM in New Orleans, we thought that we could stop by for an hour and check it out. Unlike the Air Museum at Warner Robins, this one is actually on the Navy base. In typical military base fashion, we had to pull over at the gate and put on our life saving reflective vests! Man oh man; I thought I was done with this nonsense when I left the Army.

I don’t know what to say about the museum, other than it being amazing. The number, quality, and originality of the pieces and exhibits was unmatched by any aviation museum I’ve seen. They even had some aircraft that I really didn’t expect, like an ME-262. Why a German WWII plane from a mostly land based theater of war is at a Navy museum is beyond me, but it’s still cool. There were also a considerable amount of interactive pieces that made it fun for the kid in all of us. To save some time, we ate at the museum café which was surprisingly tasty and fairly cheap. And our waitress was also headed to New Orleans with her husband when she got off shit.




Upon arrival into Mobile AL, the skies darkened and the wind picked up considerably. The trees were shaking while stray leaves blew horizontally in front of us. Something wicked this way comes indeed. Our foresight had us already in rain pants though and we were prepared. Typical of southern storms, it went as quickly as it came and it was quite heavy. Mobile seemed nice though with some beautiful old plantation-style houses. After Mobile, the back roads started to take too much time and we had to get on the highways in order to meet our 4PM appointment. What I learned from the highways of Mississippi is that the state smells.




We pulled up to the Triumph/Ducati/Vespa dealer, Transportation Revolution, in New Orleans only 10 minutes late; we forgot to account for New Orleans rush hour traffic. That’s not too shabby considering we started the day in a good bit into Florida. The shop was nicely air conditioned and very squanky. We paid for the swank though. Foolishly I didn’t ask how much it would cost beforehand. They charged us $60 each for 4 liters of oil. Is the oil infused with saffron? Does it come in a golden bottle?! It’s just 15w50 oil. I guess that they have to pay for their fancy new dynamometer somehow. I thought that I’d have the oil changed by someone else to give myself a chance to just sit and relax. Screw that. Next time I’m just doing it myself in the parking lot of an autozone. The only problem will be finding a Bonneville oil filter.

We headed to our relatively expensive and yet rundown motel miles away from New Orleans before going downtown. The room was very musty, the tub had a 1’x1’ patch in it that was poorly done, and there were beer cans and drink cups around the outside walkways. Oh well, it was the cheapest/best we could find. I cleaned up and we were on our way. We figured that we’d just head to the French Quarter and wander around to find a place to eat. On the way I had people in the back of a limo give me a thumbs up via their driver, and then a guy in an M6 gave me a head nod off the highway. Yup, I know the bike looks good.

Getting into the city, I guess I didn’t realize how much of a modern city it actually is. I always kind of pictured the whole city to be like the French Quarter. Anyway, we parked our bikes and wandered around. The place is confusing. It’s not confusing in its layout or anything like that. It’s confusing because the city is confused about itself. You have some parts that are real southern class, and then just around the corner is a fratboy throwing up on the sidewalk. You have a restaurant that appears to have families dining in it, and then across the street you have a strip club. Never before have I seen so much upstanding citizenry living side by side and coexisting with so much debauchery. And then there’s the odd stuff too. There was a guy riding a bicycle with a silver bearded mannequin on the handlebars while playing hardcore techno-metal and screaming things, and then a guy doing a Michael Jackson routine in the middle of the street while painted gold. Around the next corner was a girl riding a bicycle that had to be 10’ tall with multiple gears and chains to drive it.




We ended up eating at a place called Café Pontalba. I got the Shimp Creole. I was about to order the Etouffee, but decided against it. There was nothing unpleasant about the Creole, but the shrimp were tiny, the rice was bland and the sauce seemed like it just came out of a can. The meal was pretty cheap though, so I can’t complain too much. The place also did have a very nice atmosphere and setup. Oh, and our waiter looked like, sounded like, had mannerisms like and had hair like that asian comedian from The Hangover and Community. For dessert, we went over to Café Du Monde from all the recommendations. I didn’t get coffee because I wanted to get to sleep at some point and ordered the hot chocolate, which was delicious. It was flavorful and creamy, but not too rich. The biegnets were a delight for my taste buds. Don’t fool yourselves though. These aren’t unique French pastries or donuts. They’re hunks of fried dough. That’s all they are….delicious hunks of fried dough.