The Deep South Tour – 2008

In general, the Americans were quite dismayed when they heard that Jules and Shelley would only be seeing Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama and a teensy edge of Florida on their first visit to the States.

It reminded me of my first six months in New Orleans, when people would ask, "So where else in the US have you lived?" and I'd say, "Louisiana is the only place I've lived since I left Australia."
"Oh," they'd say gravely, "I'm sorry. The rest of America is Really Not Like This." (Trust me, I could hear the capitals.)

If I had limitless funds and a nanny for the two-year-old and someone else to haul Kickbaby around under their shirt, I would've loved to take Jules and Shelley to other cities I love, like Portland and Seattle and Santa Fe and Atlanta and New York, and to places I'd love to see – like Savannah and Charleston and Chicago and Washington D.C.

But with Berry and Kickbaby in tow, we improvised our own itinerary – one that will never quite be replicated by anyone else, ever.


We made Jules sick with the American Breakfast at Waffle House; we made Shelley sick with rich soul food at the Praline Connection (Australian stomachs just aren't built for Southern fare); we stalked the wedding cake house on St Charles Avenue in the Garden District so Shelley could get the perfect picture (the upside-down one just didn't cut it); and we compiled a veritable photo essay on the hazards of New Orleans' crazy footpaths.


We sat out a pouring should've-been-sunny Saturday in Perdido Beach, we built sandcastles with Berry, we went all over New Orleans' famous French Quarter by day, and by night Nathan (a French Quarter bar expert if ever there was one) took Jules and Shelley to some of his favourite haunts. There was jambalaya at Napoleon House and a streetcar ride down St Charles and frisbee in Audubon Park and the best Southern-diner food ever at Camellia Grill. And last but not least, I enthralled Shelley with the appalling-ness of Wal-mart. She berated herself for leaving the camera at home at least 18 times in that one trip, especially when she spied the jumbo jar of pickled pigs' ears. You think I'm joking; I'm not.

It was an unconventionally action-packed two weeks – certainly not the way Fodor's or Rick Steves or Lonely Planet would've done it.

And all I can say about that is: thank goodness.

Adventures all over

My parents never stay for long enough – with five kids on four continents, it's tricky – and this time they were only here for nine days. Still, Berry managed to give her Australian Grandma and Grandad (or Ga-gum and Ad-dad, as she prefers to call them) a pretty decent tour of Louisiana.


We went to New Orleans for streetcars and shotgun houses, antique shops and jazz bands, Southern food, Uptown charm and dirty Bourbon Street.


We went to Breaux Bridge for swamps and sleeping alligators, Cajun music and Crawfish Town, and to see Berry's Grandpa and Tine as well as her great-grandparents who live there. Berry focused on the important things, like squirrels and balloon animals, murals in restaurants, eating, trying on Tine's jewellery, making friends with Woo-woof, and organising her various grandparents: "Si-down, Ad-dad!", "Draw, Papa, draw!".


She also took very seriously the job of keeping Grandma awake on drives: "Wake up, Ga-gum! Wake up!" over and over again. Knowing my mum the way I do, I could've told Berry it was a pointless task. Mum will be wide-awake at 2am, phoning her far-flung kids and answering emails, but daytime rolls round and she'll nod off at the drop of a hat. Driving around town on the second day of their trip, we were laughing at her extraordinary napping abilities. "I'm feeling surprisingly awake, actually," Mum said brightly from the back seat. Thirty seconds later, she was sound asleep. So Berry had a full-time job on her hands.


But sometimes naps catch up with even the best anti-sleep crusader. Family trips are exhausting, and although Berry fell asleep just in time to miss a Cajun music jam we knew she'd love, no one had the heart to wake her.

Not even Ga-gum.


.

Big treasures in little Sunset

If you ever go to Sunset, Louisiana (if you can ever find Sunset, Louisiana) don't miss this place. It's called Melange and it's a wonderland in the middle of nowhere.

Row after row of antique European doors, huge weathered wrought-iron gates from France, and century-old furniture from eastern Europe. It's amazing.

We spent hours there and I could have spent hours more. We bought a French wrought-iron wall planter and a beautiful old hand-painted keyed chest from Hungary.

We coveted many, many other things. We'll be back.

Dirty Jobs, Cajun style...

"I bet Mike walked here," I said to Nathan as we went down the path to the back of the restaurant.

He just shook his head at me, with what might've been pity. But really, I'm not the first girl to take a shine to Mike Rowe. And he had been right there – we saw it on TV.

We were going to breakfast at Bayou Boudin and Cracklin on Bayou Teche, home of the "Cracklin King" (or, as it's known locally, Rocky and Lisa's) – because what Louisiana Cajun experience would be complete without it?

And yes, Mike Rowe came here to film an episode of Dirty Jobs for Discovery Channel. It's the one where he learns to make boudin sausage and pork cracklins – the one that coined the famous phrase: "Fat is money."


If you're dieting, you don't go to Rocky and Lisa's. (If you're dieting, you've got the wrong idea about health and you're just going to gain weight again – but that's another story). The menu is mainly pork-related, and they're not counting calories.

Berry loves it because there are little pigs everywhere – she loves pigs – and we love it because these people know how to cook. I didn't have the boudin and I didn't have the cracklins, but their seasoned ham was so good it made me selfish – I wouldn't even share it with Berry. What a bad mother.

If you're ever near Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, it's well worth the trip. And if you want to sit where Mike sat – pssssst, head for the back steps leading up to the restaurant.

Back to New Orleans

We went back to New Orleans. It's been almost two years and thousands of miles since Hurricane Katrina sent us to the other end of the country, but despite all the changes it still felt like an old friend. A bit like coming home.

New Orleans was the first place I lived after moving to America, and it took me a long time to realise that really, New Orleans is a bit like a country of its own. You won't find a city like it anywhere else. I know, I've looked.




The people and the buildings and the culture and the city as a whole have all taken a battering, through Katrina and ever since. But it's the kind of place that's hard to keep down. Some parts of it will never be the same again, but I'd like to think in the end the optimism and irrepressible spirit of the people will win out.

Busy days

Poppy didn't realise he needed help with his accordian, until Berry came along. And this little kitten didn't realise it needed an enthusiastic new friend... Surprises for everyone, in Breaux Bridge.

Welcome to Louisiana

Crawfish are big in Louisiana, but not this big.

This monster welcomes people at Lisa and Rocky Sonnier's famous cabins and restaurant in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana -- and it's just one of the place's many quirky charms.

Mike Rowe filmed an episode of Dirty Jobs here, about making "cracklins". Fabulous, I'm told, but a bit bad for you. That's the cracklins, not Mike Rowe. Although.....