“And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me, shine until tomorrow, let it be.”
Another food-related (kinda) special post!
Before I left NZ I texted myself the lyrics of ‘Let it Be’ and ‘Here Comes the Sun’ to remind myself of the point of this trip: to learn acceptance.
I’m sitting here in my neighbourhood Common Bond cafe on a meltingly hot Sunday morning crying tears of happiness because:
They just played ’Let it Be’
The sun has well and truly come
I get free wifi
They have free coffee refills – might go for fourth
The checkout woman in Kroger (supermarket) gave me a discount card. I saved $4!
After 6 failed attempts I managed to email an SOS to ASB bank to ask why my Visa card has suddenly given up
They’re now playing ‘Here Comes the Sun’
I’m incredibly happy. This is me.
Peter, Barry & Lindsay – you’ll be relieved to know I can recreate my Maranui muffin, yogurt and almond flat white experience here, sans pre-run (suspect falling-off-ladder-tailbone injury might be worse than thought), sea views (beautiful people of Houston instead) and of course the coveted Dominion (Kroger flyer is almost as good). I looked over to Maranui when taking off and a shiver of happiness ran down my spine.
Strada espresso machine. # 673 on list of things you can use as mirror to check for food in teeth.
Today’s post brought to you by: Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico, Mexico-oo, Mexico-oo
Grateful for: Autumn
Trying hard to accept: Being on my best southern belle behaviour
It doesn’t take long leaving Houston to reach modest old houses so close to the rail track the residents could almost stand on their back porches and swipe the train. But better than a 747 I guess.
Houston was a joy. Train was late arriving from LA so had a bit of time to kill. David kindly whipped up a best-coffee-I’ve-had-in-ages-and-I’ve-had-a-lot-of-coffee hazelnut decaf and we sat on his porch while he played his guitar and sang my favourite Simon & Garfunkel song ‘The Only Living Boy in New York’, with Spook the parrot on background vocals. Perfect send-off to a perfect 2 days. Thank you again David for being such an interesting, welcoming and generous host.
(Don’t waste money on feeding a pit bull. Nothing will make burglars scarper quicker than Spook’s ear-shattering squawk. Ain’t no spring chicken either, all of 42 years old.)
Emptied bulging wallet of coins into rail station vending machine only to be the unlucky 113th customer whose food got stuck. Tried the ol’ shake, rattle ‘n’ roll then went and chewed the fat with the ticketing woman.
Happened to mention in passing, as you do, my loss of $1 and bag of Nutter Butter Bites. Next thing I know she’s rooting round in the drawers and out the back, returning with a wad of $1 notes and giving me one. Glen would’ve been proud. “If you see your sister standing by the machine, with a pissed off look … you’ve got to try a little kindness …”
This is what success looks like.
I tell ya folks, autumn is the time to travel. For the last 2 hours the train has rolled past golden fields and leaves. The sun is setting and, if it wasn’t for the air con blasting arctic air, this lounge car’d be warm as toast.
Passed Lake Houston, the river marking the Texas-Louisiana border and Lake Charles with all the good ol’ boys out there in their boats catching a catfish or 20.
FYI I’m planning on scoffing shrimp etouffee tonight. Just thought I’d mention that. Cholesterol, David? What cholesterol?
2 hrs later. Oh my, Lafayette is everything I imagined. I’m ‘just up the road’ in US terms from Houston but I might as well be on another planet.
I tell you what, if you want to instantly bond with someone, talk food.
First Lafayette-an I met was Pamela from Uber. She was as sweet as the iced tea she was drinking. We talked biscuits the whole drive.
Second one was Betsy my host. I feel like I’m at home with mom, she’s just absolutely lovely. She’s got her fingers in all sorts of pecan pies from Mary Kay cosmetics (“help yourself to anything in the bathroom drawers”) to helping her daughter run a mayoral candidate’s campaign (group of southern belles meeting at Betsy’s tomorrow night to ring around voters). I’ll bet you a few Texas oil refineries that the candidate ain’t a Democrat.
Third one was James from Uber (do they have a buy-10-get-one-free?). He was as Louisiana as crawfish and gumbo. Read as: I couldn’t understand a word he said. Young African American/Creole dude. So lovely. Read as: laughed at all my jokes.
He was raised by his grandmama out by the swamps and nursed her till she died from Alzheimer’s 6 months ago. Grandmama made her own root beer. I tried to grill him for recipe but all he knew was it involved copious amounts of vanilla extract.
Two guys from Dearborn, Michigan (“home of the Ford Motor Co”) in town for a food and music festival, a live country band, 4 drinkers, 7 other (in-bred … who said that??) diners and me are now at Randol’s Cajun restaurant trying hard to decide what to eat from a menu where you want to eat everything. Half of ‘em are up country dancing. Finish this equation: Bulging stomach + a few rounds of the dance floor = ?
Even an alligator would struggle to eat the portion sizes here. (Guess they’d skip the first appetiser – deep fried alligator bites).
This, folks, is shrimp etouffee. That yellow stuff is not a urine sample, it’s melted butter for my corn. When in Lafayette … That red stuff is Australian merlot, not for patriotism but because it’s the cheapestoption.
Sixth person I met was Stefan from Uber, ex-Denver, now studying mechanical engineering to get a job in oil biz. Wonder if he’s married. (Meet you in Reno, Jim?)
His first degree was in nutrition and worked at a Denver co developing a candy bar of peanut butter covered in toasted coconut. Perfection in a wrapper.
And here’s an interesting fact, just for you Stephen. Stefan (ha! You’ve got the same name) does endurance road cycling events and swears by peanut butter pouches, beef jerky and something else I’ve forgotten to fuel him. Reckons fat and protein are better than carbs.
7am tomorrow I’ll be first customer at Edie’s Biscuits just down the road. What a coincidence. It’s almost like I chose my accommodation to be nearby. Tell you what though I’ll either be Ubering everywhere or staying downtown all day. Lafayette is as sprawled out as a giant octopus. It’s 4 lane footpath-less roads the whole way.
One happy and 3kg heavier camper signing out.
Where I’ll be resting my head for the next 3 nights. Once I find the bed under the 7 decorative pillows.
This is a special post dedicated to Edie’s Biscuits.
I’ve never seen such cheap food and such unfailingly polite service. Everybody is “Miss Bridget” (in my case) or “Mr Carl” etc.
The 4 ft tall cute blond ponytailed waitress has been round 3 times to see if everything’s ok. She knows my life story by now.
$4.28 for a sausage and gravy biscuit, and a side of chicken fried steak. And all the free coffee I can drink.
I could’ve gotten 4 eggs, catfish, shrimp and a side of grits for $5. $5!!!! I took guidance from Mr Will Green, local trumpet player, in the queue behind me.
Aptly, or ironically, Karen Carpenter is singing ‘We’ve Only Just Begun’ over the sound system. (Say it with me Peter … Four words, first word T …)
4 mins later.
I’ve just had my first forkful of chicken fried steak, after reading about it for years and wondering, is it chicken? Is it steak? Hang on … just gotta grab another coffee …
Ok, I do not care it’s got more calories than I’ve eaten in the last 3 years, more fat than a CEO’s salary and more salt than in the Mississippi delta, this is indescribably delicious.
I’m gonna say no more because no words can do justice to chicken fried steak, biscuits and gravy.
Actually I am going to say more … I just unlocked Edie’s wifi by guessing the password. First time ever! How clever is that?
Ok this is super creepy … they’re playing ‘Let it Be’.
Second breakfast of the day. 2 hours wrestling gators this afternoon should burn off the calories.
Today’s post brought to you by: No-one. You can’t buy stamps on Veterans’ Day.
Grateful for: Whoever invented Uber
Trying to accept: Everything I’m hearing outside bedroom door
As I was leaving Edie’s this morning I stopped by the counter to ask the waitress what smothered potatoes are.
“Hey, Miss Bridget” she said. “What? You’ve never had smothered potatoes?” Returned 30 secs later with more staff in tow and a free plateful which I ate while they all watched and peppered me with questions.
You know you’re in the south when:
You step outside and the heat whacks you for six
You can’t find a footpath
You realise you’ve started calling everyone “sir” or “m’am”
The warmth of the people equals the warmth of the weather
Walked in the meltingly hot sun to Borden’s ice cream parlour, opened 1940 and barely changed since. Heather the server couldn’t believe her ears when I said I’d come all this way for the food, including walking all the way (2km but might as well be 20km to the locals) from Edie’s. “Oh, you’re soooo cute!” she drawled and then gave me a big hug. “Welcome to Lafayette!”
Borden’s. And the menu’s just like you imagine.
Half expected to see Hong Kong Phooey behind the wheel
Presumably to transport chain gangs
The swamp tour was like Miss World in a boat. Representing Louisiana we had Bob the guide, then a family from Ontario/Madagascar, 2 very good looking and alas probably gay guys from Montreal, someone from somewhere else, and Yafit from Tel Aviv.
Bob showing the girth of my stomach after 1.25 days in Lafayette
Thankfully alligators are seasonal anorexics and don’t eat in autumn so didn’t give a toss about i-phones zooming right into their faces.
As interesting to me were the Spanish moss-covered cypress and tupelo trees, the magnificent egrets, the duck hunting maimais and the water lilies that smell strongly of vanilla in spring.
Here’s an interesting fact. Some races (Asians, Native Americans) don’t have facial, chest or back hair.
“Why, Gail!” I hear you exclaim. “How on earth did you learn that fascinating fact?” Well let me explain, dear readers.
Actually I don’t remember the story but something about when el Spanish come to the US for an extended vacation. That was the first time the native people had seen beards, which reminded them of the stuff growing on trees so that’s how it got its name. So there.
Jousting, gator style
I cadged a ride back with Yafit. Obviously there’s no Hebrew word for ‘downtown’, ie where I asked her to drop me off. It must instead translate to some bloody gigantic generic shopping mall miles from town. But I did knock off some demerit points for her almost driving off the road when I told her my age.
Be grateful you’re not a new mother in Israel ‘cause you’d be back at work within 3 months. No exceptions. I wonder if they give you another 2 years compulsory military service if you kick up a fuss.
After being stranded at the mall I went outside to look for a bus. A man in the car park came rushing over. I thought he’d been sent by an angel to give me a ride home but instead he pointed out the pair of black knickers that’d just fallen out of my bag.
Needless to say I had as much chance of finding a bus or footpath as I did of winning an alligator wrestle. So I started walking and walking and walking (think I’ve done more than just bruise my tailbone. Might check out US health care system. That’d make an interesting post).
It was getting dark so found refuge in Don’s Seafood. And what a mighty fine choice that was too. Grilled corn on the cob, steamed veg (to counter the fat, carbs, fat, salt, carbs, fat I’ve eaten all day) and spicy chicken and andouille sausage gumbo. Yum. Yum. Yum.
Normally pork wouldn’t get within spitting distance of my digestive tract but that sausage is something else. Probably the chitterlings (euwwwww) that make it so good.
One bursting at the seams stomach later I phoned an Uber friend and who should arrive but Stefan the peanut butter munching cyclist from last night.
Normally I wouldn’t fess up to someone with a nutrition degree about what I ate today but Stefan’s worse than I am when it comes to eating the local grub. Ok for him though because he biked 60 miles today.
I should’ve brought an alligator home to let loose on Lafayette’s young republicans who are gathered here tonight randomly ringing people and reading prepared scripts telling them, in very loud and clear voices, why they should vote for Carlee for mayor.
Having heard the spiel 156 times I can tell you she’s fiscally conservative, pro-life and pro-second amendment (yip, the gun-toting one). Wish they’d go home.
Right, time to savour every minute of this large and comfortable bed. Wednesday night’s accommodation will be seat 11A on Greyhound to Orlando.
Wonder if these good ol’ boys can get me some compensation from American Airlines for damaging my image and self-confidence. Enough to pay for the rest of my trip.
1960s intercom at Betsy’s place. “Hey honey. Bring us a beer, would ya? Before the game kicks off again.”
Never smile at a crocodile. I’m not. I’m smiling at a camera. And that’s an alligator. Duh.
Today’s post brought to you by: A coffee-fuelled writer
Grateful for: Kind people
Trying hard to accept: Need to rewrite posts due to unsolved tech hitch
What does this remind you of?
I now understand why Yafit struggled with the concept of ‘downtown’ Lafayette yesterday. In three words, it doesn’t exist.
Ever been to Feilding with its narrow old streets selling everything you don’t need and nothing you do? I’ve landed in the Acadian version.
After an hour walking on sloping verges through grass and mud (Because. There. Are. No. Footpaths. Did. I. Mention. That?) I finally found what I was looking for.
Except I didn’t. Because downtown Lafayette is the size of my bedroom with an invisible line that Lexi tells me not to cross if I want to stay alive.
Lexi is my waitress in Dwyer’s Café – one of the eateries I came to because Google reviews told me to, when I was sitting at my table in Wellington researching this trip down to the last shrimp poboy.
And what a darn good choice it was. Firstly it’s warm. Secondly it’s got wifi. Thirdly it’s got endless coffee, which is also warm. Most importantly it’s got Lexi, who has explained what a ‘plated lunch’ is, told me to forget finding a supermarket anywhere near here, and has been so welcoming that frankly I don’t want to leave. Wonder what the limit on coffee refills is.
(An aside – the woman next to me is munching her way through a serving of deep-fried onion rings the size of four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree).
I know you’re on the edge of your seats itching to know what a plated lunch is. Well once you’ve had one you’ll never order off a menu again.
You go down the back of the café and for … SIX DOLLARS. Did you see that? SIX DOLLARS you get child’s (assuming your child is 7 ft tall and 250 pounds) portion of 1 meat (I chose cabbage rolls for your grandma and mom, Izabela), and 3 sides.
Child’s portion!!!
This morning I vowed to myself that after yesterday’s pigfest I’d only eat homemade low-calorie food today. Well the little hand has passed 12 and it’s afternoon now so all pre-noon vows are off.
A very quiet little nagging voice forced me to at least order token green stuff but could I pass the eggplant casserole? Could I ‘eck as like. If I ever lose my teeth I’m gonna live on eggplant casserole. It’s got a mushy white bread base and slow cooked eggplant and mildly spiced tomato sauce and it wraps you up and gives you a big warm carb-laden hug.
Yes, that’s another biscuit on my plate. No, I don’t care.
Ok I’ve been in Dwyer’s 2 hours – most of it on online chat with blog tech support woman. Better go face the soul music. Reckon it’ll take me all of 3 minutes to cover the rest of downtown.
4 hours, 3 coffees, and 15 degrees drop in temperature later.
It took me all of 30 seconds to cover the rest of downtown. Basically stumbled from one café to the next. Phone needed charging so Roasters Coffee it was. Killed an hour, surreptitiously ate two of my snacks, charged phone, and used wifi and nice bathroom all for $3.
Bad news readers. Inevitable tech hitches with blog site. I write stuff, I add a few prize-worthy photos, I hit save and get error message. Took me 2 hours last night to write and rewrite yesterday’s post. Tech support are “getting back to me” as is ASB bank re broken Visa card. Hickory BBQ Pigs. Might. Fly.
While I remember, some tips if you ever do similar trip:
Strike while the iron’s hot. Every time you go into a café or restaurant grab all the free sachets of relish, mustard, mayo, salt and pepper, margarine and jam, and cutlery and napkins you can cram in your pockets. You’ll thank me when you wake up on Greyhound and need to make a breakfast sandwich (yes, you need to have bought bread, obvs).
Always chose a café table next to a power point. Always carry your charger.
Always check for free wifi – if it’s locked ask staff member for password (if you don’t have a little girl lost from other side of world accent, fake one) or guess it.
The longest you can sit in a café on one cup of coffee while you charge your phone/write your blog is 3 hours. Longer if you’ve made instant friends with your waitress and shown her the picture you took of her on your blog site.
Ride the local bus. It costs $1 and you meet lovely people. If you’ve got white skin you’ll be a novelty for the first time in your life.
Drink filter coffee. It’s only $2 and you get as many refills as your heart can take. Espresso is for when you’re back home in a job.
Talk to anybody and everybody. They’ll make you feel less lonely, give you lots of advice and restore your faith in people. Particularly if you’ve ever lived in NZ where customer service staff seem to translate ‘customer’ as interruption to their texting/chatting/posing/resting.
You’re welcome.
So after I’d outstayed my Earl Grey at Roasters Coffee I went to the Rosa Parks Transportation Centre where you’d kind of expect to find a bus route map. Forget it. But what I did find was the nicest bus driver who basically took me (only passenger) on a door to door trip to the supermarket so I’d avoid waiting/having to cross 6 lane road. I seemed to make her day when I told her she was one of the nicest and most helpful people I’ve met here.
Rosa looking for a bus route map
The other one was Mike the transgender guy working at Panera Bread café where I’m writing this from, who was super duper friendly and chatty.
Ok it’s getting dark so better post this (it won’t work but can but try) and go buy groceries for the 1.5 day bus trip. Greyhound had better not do an Amtrak on me and fail to deliver the promised free wifi otherwise they too will be getting some ‘constructive feedback’.
