Before leaving New
Orleans and starting the next 6000 miles back, I first
needed to do an investigation. When
Katrina slammed into the coast and caused the Mississippi to breach the dikes the
devastation to the low lying areas left us with horrifying images. Much of
the city is below the level of the river and it filled up like a bathtub. Over
the last five years the efforts to restore New Orleans to its former glory are nothing
short of heroic. However, it has often been reported that the poor areas of the
city are the last to be reconstructed, and I set out to see for myself the current
status of restoration in those parts of the city.
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| "Dead End" says the sign. |
I am unhappy to report that there are still hundreds of
homes that have been boarded up and abandoned, their owners underinsured and
too poor to put them back together. In some neighbourhoods such as the one called Lower Nine which I visited, roughly half of the homes have been
restored while their neighbours relocated and left their houses to decay. With
so much damage done and the population of the neighbourhoods so greatly reduced,
some schools were closed, businesses shut down, and even a church was nailed
shut. The gaiety of the downtown
core and the French Quarter in particular is not wholly representative of the
state of the city.
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| Yes, that is a For Sale sign on the church. |
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| The pole banners read, "Breathe Life back into the Lower Nine" |
Goodbye, southern Louisiana,
I have other places yet to see.
The Garmin people sold me a magnificent little device
clamped to my handlebars that is immeasurably helpful in helping me steer in
and out of big cities through the labyrinth of overpasses and exits. Personal advice
from many local people I meet is additionally useful as I plot my course on a
daily—often hourly--basis. So up the west side of the Mississippi on Hwy 18 we
go with the intention of checking out some of the old sugar plantations that
were a mainstay of the economy in the mid 1800’s. Winding up that road with the
big 30 foot levee beside me (the river was invisible to me) it was sort of cool
to think that each big sweeping curve in the road reflected a parallel meander in the
mighty river. Broad and fertile flood plain to my left is planted with lush fields
that extend well past my horizon.
The first plantation I stopped to see was occupied by a Hollywood film crew, using the site as a location for an
upcoming movie on the life of slaves on these old plantations. I presented
myself as the replacement for Mel Gibson who I understand has disgraced himself
again, although the actual star is a name everyone else but me would recognize.
(I lost track of them all after Robert Redford). Needless to say, there were no
tours for the tourists today, and neither was there a call for my acting
talents such as they are, so I was asked to move along. Just down the road, dozens of cars were
squeezed into the entrance to an old farm, a sure sign that something interesting
was going on. Sure enough, a neighbouring plantation, not open to the public,
was being commandeered for the same movie. As I cruised in and around the
property I met and chatted with the superintendent of the plantation who told
me what was up. Unfortunately I was not quick enough on the draw to get a shot
of all the extras, dressed up in their period costumes as slave workers
climbing out of vans sipping on soft drinks and texting their friends as they
walked on to the set. Priceless.
Oak Alley was the one fully restored plantation that I did
tour around. As an aside, the Bette Davis movie "Hush Hush Swet Charlotte" was filmed here in 1965. But that was fantasy. There is a very dark history that these places symbolize and the contrast between the corpulent mansions and the slave shacks
made me feel a bit sick. I just couldn’t stomach touring through the interior
of the mansion and gave it a bye. ‘ Nuff said.
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| Shacks for the slave labourers |
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| Interior of one of these shacks |
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| Lavish mansion on the Oak Alley plantation. |
False River is an oxbow lake--a piece
of the Mississippi
left behind when the river carved a shortcut through one of its meander loops,
leaving a crescent-shaped lake in its place. New Road is a prosperous little resort
community built up around the shores of this lovely lake.
The Bruiser and I crossed the Mississippi River on a bridge that recently replaced the ferry, drove up the east side on Hwy 61 (named “The Blues Highway”) and soon
crossed into the state of Mississippi.
This is a new one for me.
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| The Bruiser arrives in Mississippi, Home of The Blues |
Another 35 miles north and we ran through the historic town
of Natchez destined for a nicely forested state park a few miles bit beyond it
where I set up camp. We’ll have to backtrack tomorrow and study Natchez more
carefully.
The evening is cool and quiet, apart from a noisy and
persistent owl and a really weird call by something that sounds like a person
badly imitating a crow.
