| Jackson Park |
I was looking forward to getting through the city and to our
campground so I could roll in the grass.
But Ron pulled off the freeway, past some factories, and pulled in to
this parking lot covered with pavers. He
called it an urban campground. (I had
several different names for it after three days of I-10 traffic and police
sirens 24 hours a day for four days and three nights!) The humans liked the place-just a few blocks
to the French Quarter. It had a pool and
hot tub and coffee in the morning. I
think the amenities would have been nice if we hadn’t stopped there on the two
coldest days of the year. So, while I
guarded the camper (which was pretty easy, since the whole campground was
surrounded by a 10’ concrete wall topped with razor wire), the humans
explored. They went to Bourbon street
the first night. The next morning, they
took a bus tour and in the afternoon, went to the Katrina and Mardi Gras Museums. (Nancy said
that seeing that just reinforced her belief that the last entity to invite to a
disaster is FEMA). Friday, they drove
around south of the city checking out the bayous and fishing villages. They
stopped at Lafitte National Park and Nancy got another stamp on her National
Park passport book. They didn’t get to
hear as much music as they thought they would because a lot of the street
musicians weren’t out because of the cold weather, but they did eat creole
shrimp, beignets, and muffalatos.
Now we are on the road to Carrabelle Florida.