THE PRACTICE

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’.

Another special post. Dedicated to Albertson’s. Best supermarket ever.

After 1.5 cosy hours in Panera Bread I zipped over to Albertson’s supermarket to buy 4 things.

O.

M.

G.

Now, I’ve spent many an hour in US supermarket aisles but this even blew MY mind (stomach). You can buy every imaginable and unimaginable fresh, packaged, frozen, discounted, long-life, gourmet, organic, ready-made product. And then some.

I wouldn’t have been surprised to see kitchen sinks down aisle 33.

They have a hot soup bar, a hot fried chicken and sides section, a Starbucks, a fresh salad bar, and a hot casseroles, rice and Cajun meals section. And that’s only what I remember.

But best of all they sell Nilla wafer banana pudding by the pound in the deli. Like my other beloved friend, biscuits, I’ve waited 13 years to have banana pudding again.

When I walked past the fresh donuts at 6.30pm they were 79c each. When I did a second round at 7pm they were 12 for 99c. And we’re not talking dainty petite bite-sized either.

Exhibit A

Next to crappy food, the second thing dearest to my heart (oh yeah, and my family and friends, oops) is a bargain.

After 1.5 hours of dawdling down every aisle and crouching down to read the fine print, I got 2-for-1 on: organic 12 seed bread, deodorant, tuna, chicken, and cucumbers from Mexico.

A voice inside the self-checkout machine announces each item as you swipe it. “Red delicious apples. $2.69 per pound. Saving 79c.”

When I was finished scanning, my checkout suddenly lit up with flashing lights and screeching sirens and the voice yelled “CHEAPSKATE!!!!!” Never been so embarrassed in my life.

I fled next door to Poke Geaux. Free wifi – check. Free condiments – check. Helpful, patient staff – check. Bloody bargain – check.

You design your own bowl. Mine cost $11. It contains … ready?

Raw salmon chunks, tofu, salad leaves, those zucchini noodles, edamame, coriander, red onion, carrots, sauce, seaweed salad, shredded nori, fried wonton pieces and sunflower seeds.

I could’ve included another 12 items. But of course I’m being very careful about portion control (believe that, believe anything).

I’m eating it with chopsticks, Miranda, so I eat slow. Complete failure.

I’ve only been here a week and I’ve achieved what I set out to do.

Namely, spending time with everyday people. Today just capped off the kindness and hospitality I’ve been shown in spades so far.

Ever walked into a diner and had everyone stop mid-fork and look up at you?

Well it must be a slow morning in Dwyer’s Cafe, Lafayette, because I’ve just been treated like a queen.

Make that a princess (“You’re 50?? You look 12!!).

I’d not even dumped my backpack when Steve (whose brother lives in The Villages, Orlando where I’m headed. Snap. And who worked for child support agency chasing defaulters. Semi-snap), Darren (Vietnam vet, Brazilian wife), John and Louis insisted I join them.

They were so sweet. As was the waitress who knew all about me from Lexi.

We chewed the fat for 30 mins while I chewed 60 grams of fat in a boudin sausage biscuit.

I’m divorcing chicken fried steak and marrying a boudin biscuit. Oh my …

When I left they gave me a big hug, paid for my breakfast and said I’d made their day. Well they sure made mine, and then some.

Today’s post brought to you by: Voodoo

Trying hard to accept: Eeriness

Grateful for: Public libraries

This is going to be an early post because (a) I’m tired (b) I’m slightly scared (c) there’s dodgy wifi everywhere.

Have taken refuge in New Orleans public library to charge phone, use wifi and get off the streets as dusk falls.

There are more homeless than homed camping out here, sleeping in chairs or staring into space.

For someone who’s often mistaken for a young thing I was most put out when the librarian in the teenage section upstairs told me only young people could sit up there. “Don’t you know I’m 12??” I stammered.

There’s a shelf of free books, ironically almost all are travel guides to overseas countries. Most people in here can’t even afford to ride the bus let alone get in a plane.

I spied a copy of ‘Handbook of American Indians North of Mexico’ though so if anyone wants it, let me know.

This morning as the bus cruised alongside the Louisiana bayous, past manufactured homes and the odd plantation manor, Big Boy Seafoods and $6.99 buffet restaurants, I decided it was time for some observations, ie gross generalisations of American life, particularly in these southern parts:

• Manners are hugely important
• Petrol’s cheaper than diesel
• When you introduce someone you give their last name too
• Food isn’t seasoned much (ref earlier advice on accumulating salt sachets)
• You never have to get out of your car – there are drive-through ATMs, donut shops, pharmacies and wedding chapels
• It’s perfectly acceptable to take your time ordering food or buying stuff in stores, and to change your mind 6 times and to get into long discussion with waiting/serving staff about tailoring your order. The staff person will patiently stand there while you um and ah. There’ll be no muffled sighs, silent daggers in your back, rolling eyes or surly stares. God love ya New Zealand but boy do you have a thing or 10 to learn about customer service.
• Fritos are good. Very good.

Greyhound’s lived up to my expectations:

• Roomy seats
• Power points
• On time
• Heaps of room to spread out because there were only 6 of us plus 1 laptop on endless loud loop of cartoons and stupid songs that needed to go use the bathroom at the back of the bus and never come back.

Only 1 demerit point for Greyhound: Yes, there is free wifi. No, you can’t connect to it.

To stop myself eating Fritos I grabbed a 20 oz coffee when we stopped at the Shop-n-Bag in Houma (pronounced like Bart’s dad’s name).

The cup was 25cm high. It cost $1.19. If my gob wasn’t otherwise engaged in skulling coffee, it would’ve been smacked.

Rolled into New Orleans at 2pm. It cost me $8 but worth every cent to stash my backpack at Greyhound so I could be free to roam the street(cars) of New Orleans.

Gotta confess it’s not my favourite city. There’s an undercurrent of threat lurking. And I’ll never forget my last visit here when I spent an hour demanding compensation from Amtrak after they sent my bag on a magical mystery tour.

I just don’t feel safe here. A feeling reinforced when I saw an armed guard at the door of the supermarket.

It’s getting dark so am going to head back to bus station and hang out for 4 hours at a few of the hip eateries nearby and drink coffee and wine till it’s time to turn my bus seat into a bed for the night.

Oh crap, just remembered have to change buses at Mobile, Alabama at 11.45 tonight. Better ditch the wine idea and stick to coffee. These are words I never thought I’d write: I really like American filter coffee.

Good night y’all.

Afternoon tea! I could blame it on voodoo making me eat it but truth is it’s jambalaya, mac cheese, blue cheese crumbles, fried chicken and bacon bits. And that’s all I need to say.