Day 28: Friday, Nov. 18 – Panama City Beach to New Orleans, LA

Note: another heavily photo-loaded post. Get a good connection 😉So today is the day I will finally reach New Orleans, a city that always played a lot with my imagination, thanks to the funeral march scene in James Bond’s Live And Let Die and the many other movies that were filmed there. I am also worried about how much Katrina, from a few years ago, might have devastated the area, as I recall the huge flooding in many parts of Louisiana.

I started the trip by taking a little ride around Panama City Beach and stopping for funny pictures at two local attractions. It would have been nice to visit and enjoy, but unfortunately I had a long ride in front of me until my destination. 

Breakfast was not included in the room price so, I stopped at a Waffle House before leaving the small city and enjoyed the All-Star Breakfast for the second time – bacon for me please 🙂

Because of the distance, I then opted to go through the highway, rather than following the coast and probably a few nice beaches, but then a beach is just a beach and I had already seen a couple of nice ones without even enjoying staying at them.

I passed Pensacola, FL around noon, but didn’t stop. The name rang a bell – or maybe just sounds good – but sometimes you need to focus on your objectives, and Pensacola had not been put on the checklist so… skipped. I stopped at Starbucks for my usual quick lunch + latte, a bit before Mobile, AL, and refilled my tank after passing the city. Google says I should have seen the USS Alabama from the bridge, but I can’t honestly remember anything. The name Mobile is funny, although it always makes me think about mobile phone, and that’s not exactly funny. This said, I have absolutely no idea why people pronounce that city name “mobeel”… Just another mystery along with “Tucson”…

The highway up to New Orleans was really bad at times; in particular, on those extremely long bridges over swampy lands full of small rivers. The wind gusts experienced from time to time didn’t make riding there very enjoyable either… I was always wondering what would happen if I crashed and went over those low barriers on the side of the bridge… quite a scary perspective, to be honest.

I reached the Sidell Visitor Center on the I-10 around 4pm, before sunset, and thought it would be a good idea to inquire on what places to visit, get more information about ghost tours that had been mentioned to me, and New Orleans in general. So I parked the bike, went to the restrooms, then paid the guys inside a quick visit, and was helped by a friendly senior that gave me all the information I needed and the directions to New Orleans’ French Quarter where everything was happening. After thanking him, I went back to my bike, turned the switch to the ON position to power on my TomTom GPS, and started looking at motels for the night on my phone.

A guy came by and parked his Harley Davidson right beside my bike. After he came back from the restrooms – he was not really here for the visitor center – we started chatting a bit. Kevin was a pretty friendly and nice guy, and we ended up talking about many things, including my trip. He dreamt about doing something similar – as many people I met along this trip – but was not totally ready for that now. When he left, I finished looking for the motel, entered the data in the GPS, and started the bike… which didn’t start. The battery had been drained by the GPS, my own tracker (a real battery sucker), the lights and the phone that was charging in the same time.

Since I didn’t bring the jump starter with me from home (too heavy and cumbersome), I decided to make good use of the Roadside Assistance I subscribed when buying the bike. When I called them, the guy on the phone was pretty helpful and quickly found my contract information (from my cell phone number I guess). Unfortunately his advice was to have the bike towed. As I suggested that I just needed a jump start, he checked for a few minutes on his system and came back to me saying that was not Honda’s recommendation because of the type of battery. He still suggested I could ask the towing guy to jump start and pay for the expense myself, and then get reimbursed but that I should rather have the bike towed. After a few minutes, and considering it was Friday and having the bike towed would mean I’d be stuck with no bike until Monday probably, I asked to keep the claim open for the time being and I would try to recharge my battery with my battery tender on a nearby plug.

After hanging up the call, I found a plug outside the visitor center that I could use, but it was quite far from where I was parked so, I moved my bike closer and used my extension cord. The visitor center was already closed so, I wasn’t expecting anyone coming out and complaining. I was still fearing the police could notice my bike and either fine me or just ask me to remove it from where it was. I thought I could always try to argue that I was helping people find the restrooms since they were located at the back and most were trying to go to the visitor center, which was closed so I was being friendly and redirecting them around the center through a path – enjoying once, a whining woman who just complained about it all, as though I was a part of that scheme to make people’s lives complicated. This said, it was getting darker and darker outside, and I started fearing people would find it weird for me to wait there in my dark leather jacket and biker clothes… Anyways. No one called the police, they didn’t come, and I tried a few times to start the bike with no success… until 6:30pm more or less, when I thought I’d make a last attempt – (battery was not even 80% loaded and I had no idea about the current load) and if it didn’t work I’d call back for the assistance. The bike eventually decided to start, bringing a smile to my face. I kept the engine running for a while after unplugging and guarding the cord and the battery tender, and finally left for the motel.

After quickly changing clothes, (mostly removing the heavy riding pants and using Jeans instead), I drove the 50 km to the French Quarter, crossing crowded streets full of young and less young people with an air of drinking quite a bit, and parked on a parking lot… 18 bucks for 2 hours… reminded me of Vancouver… Then I wandered around the neighbourhood, shooting a bunch of nice and/or scary pictures.

For the note, the last photo, above, is the LaLaurie mansion, and is supposed to have witnessed some slave murders and to be haunted by such slaves since…

New Orleans is quite the muscial city: jazz bands at street corners, music in all pubs, Nashville even sounds weak in relation to the level of decibels around…

Then I hit the busy streets: music, alcohol, and a bunch of weirdos and masqueraded people around. That’s really the busiest part of the city, called Bourbon Street – a name that it carries pretty well, although Vodka Street might have been a better choice 😉

And finally, if you need to practise a bit of Voodoo, there are stores selling you the ingredients and dolls you need, obviously! Unfortunately, probably mostly supplied by Chinese companies… 

After a tasty salmon and a beer at a quieter pub on Bourbon Street, I decided to go back to the motel for a good night of sleep. The plan was to stay the next day again, so I’d be back to see these streets again by day, then some other quarters, and possibly enjoy some more NOLA (New Orleans, Louisiana) atmosphere by night.

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