After partying our knickers off in New Orleans, we decided a rather sedate day was in order, as both an apology to our livers and our wallets.
I was tasked with finding our campsite for the night, and after some groggy cell phone research, I decided upon Fontainebleau State Park, which was a very, very wise choice.
Most importantly, it had a lake.
There is nothing like some fresh air, fresh water, and gentle sunshine to remind you that not all in life is glitter and neon. The water was very shallow, so it was like stepping into a hot bath. Trudging to the deeper water, we slucked down in mud and green frondy stuff, which tickled our feet. The water was so clear, though, you could see exactly what you were stepping on, which allowed for some, however slight, peace of mind.
We napped on the beach, absorbing the hot sun and some mellow beach music before heading back to our campsite to make a feast.
I know the pictures make it look like we eat six meals a day at fancy restaurants, but we actually have some nifty food service contraptions with us. We have a cooler that keeps ice for several days, which is absolutely clutch. Thankfully, the South was littered with ice service stations, so we were able to keep all of our local meats and cheeses well-cooled. Throughout the journey, we've been stopping a little local grocery stores and picking up things we haven't seen before- things that are only locally produced. This particular meal was sausage from Tennessee, Dr. Pepper beans from Kentucky, and rolls that we picked up right there in Mandeville by the park. We have a separate bin for our sparse dishes, and Ryan washes up in a tub before we re-pack them. Minimal trash, minimal fuss, fantastic meals.
We showered and just relaxed for the evening. Had a little walk around the campsite, and I saw my first wild alligator. (It's the solid-looking lump in the middle of the picture.)
The next morning, we stopped again at a brewery, and we were thrilled to see they had a brunch menu. Ohioans love brunch. I also personally love salmon and throwing the word "benedict" around all willy-nilly. Old Rail Brewing Company was set up in an older railroad depot, and the feel was very upscale and historic, and my smoked salmon benedict was a very happy way to transition myself back to the civilized world.
Onwards to Baton Rouge! It turns out, hardly anything in Baton Rouge is open on Sundays. All the history and local flavor closes up for the weekends in the South, which is Sunday and Monday (and sometimes Tuesday). We walked down the Mississippi River Levee for awhile and discovered the Art and Science Museum was open, so we popped in to catch their exhibits and watch a show in the planetarium. We enjoyed meeting Jason the Triceratops, and of course I geeked out perusing the Ancient Egypt exhibit (they had a mummy- I love mummies!).
After the museum, we thought we would walk a mile to the next brewery. A mile is not far, until to realize that it's half freeway, and that's not plausible. We got halfway to the destination, discovered our mistake, then marched back to Vincent so we could arrive at the brewery in solid form.
Tin Roof Brewery had some really tasty crafts, and it turned out the bartender was One Of Us! He's heading out west on his camper adventure soon, so we compared set ups and tips. Since it's early in the year, we haven't encountered too many other Van People, but you do meet a lot of great people tooling around in a van.
As the sun set, we had to scrounge up some food and a place to sleep. Schlitz and Giggles helped with the food part, by serving us a gorgeous pizza topped with... well, everything, really. Ryan and I devoured our slices efficiently while trying to research camping spots on our waning cell phones.
While we do have a car charger, Vincent's tiny little battery can only do so much. One thing I would recommend to all Van People is taking your charger everywhere. I have plugged into the wall in bathrooms, in breweries, in a McDonald's while Ryan was using the facilities - anywhere I can. I also recommend being prepared to brush your teeth in any running water and carrying wet wipes with you for touch-ups.
We ended up spending that night in a gravel parking lot, under a loud street lamp, in front of a campsite. The road had flooded, so it was impossible to access the campsites without a four wheeler, so the camp manager just let us park in the lot. He even stretched an extension cord from his shed so we could charge our phones, and showed us where the portable toilets were.
As I settled into bed, indiscriminate bars of distant jazz music and the spicy scent of lighter fluid drifted from the homes down the road, and I considered all of the creative ways in which the locals could eliminate us in the night, ten miles away from the road, and half an hour away from civilization.
Thankfully, nothing happened that night, besides some rough dreams. I awoke as usual, brushed my teeth with a water bottle while a rogue dog watched suspiciously, used the portable toilet with no ceremony, changed clothes and assumed the position in the passenger seat to conquer the day.
This particular day was special. As Ryan had to do some work, he graciously allowed me to check off a bucket list item by booking a room at the famously haunted Myrtles Plantation. With check-in time at 3, we had most of the day to wander about and take in the sights.
Except it was Monday, which is a day in which nothing is open in the South.
We tried two different wildlife parks, and both were closed. We tried touring another plantation, and it was closed. We tried going to lunch, but restaurants were closed. We ended up getting frustrated, hitting a market for more local food, and heading to the Myrtles early to wander around the grounds.
It was truly a lovely and serene place. The weather was cooperating entirely, with a light breeze and sunshine, so we strolled around for a bit before checking in.
The room itself was enormous, with a private bathroom just down the hall. We discovered we were the only people in the main house that night, which made Ryan a little nervous. I took a long-awaited hot shower, and I did not mention to Ryan that the shower shut itself off - twice.
For dinner, we stuffed ourselves at a place just up the road called The Francis. We found the elusive Juicifer IPA, which complimented the duck eggrolls perfectly. I then gave in to the Crawfish Craze with a thick etoufee, while Ryan made short work of a fried catfish po-boy. I also became familiar with something called Sensation dressing, which is basically garlic, Parmesan, and a whole lot of delcious.
Since everything was still closed, we wandered back to the plantation and took up the rockers on the back porch while the sun set.
The next morning, we were treated to a huge Southern breakfast, complete with fresh biscuits, scones, sausage, and grits served with pecan-laced butter. And coffee. Fresh, dark coffee - as much as you could drink. It is rare for us to work up the desire to pull out the stove and boil water in the morning, so that was a true treat.
We then had a private tour of the plantation, and learned about the history of the land, the building, and the town. While we were touring, the guide threw in some haunted history, and though I can't say anything spooky directly happened to us, at one point, I heard a woman scream and footsteps in the next room. I assumed it was another staff member until we popped around the corner to see absolutely no one else in the building. Hmmm....
Quick as we arrived, we were off again- this time to pedal back through Mississippi on our way back North!
