By: Paul S. Cilwa Viewed: 2/20/2020
Occurred: 4/30/2016
Topics/Keywords: #Travel #65thBirthdayTrip #WrightLake #Florida #Alabama #Mississippi #Louisiana #NewOrleans Page Views: 2848
All about the twenty-second day of my 65th Birthday Trip.

Today we finally left Florida behind for the steamy jazz of New Orleans.

Travel Day 22
Starting Point Wright Lake, Florida
Ending Point New Orleans, Lousiana
Accommodations Best Western French Quarter
Miles Covered 388
Estimated Driving Time 5 hours 46 minutes

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Day 22: View From The Tent

Day 22: View From The Tent

Wright Lake proved to be quite a bargain at $10; and since I'm a vet, the charge for us was actually just $5. We were attacked by neither bears nor alligators (though I took no chances with the garbage, and locked it in the car instead of keeping it in the tent).

There was even a full restroom with showers.

I was greeted by a flittering moth.

The road out of camp, which we hadn't really been able to see when we came in after dark, was very pretty and calming. So despite the growing cloud cover and reports of severe weather approaching our day's goal of New Orleans, we happily anticipated the day.

Our entrance into Alabama was uneventful. And we wouldn't be there long; only about an hour to get to Mississippi.

But the clouds continued to coagulate, with occasional splatterings of rain against the windshield.

The weather was still holding off—barely—when we drove through Mobile.

Then we got to Mississippi.

By the time we got to Louisiana, the downpour was intense. Then the Tornado Alert on my phone started screaming, and I asked Keith to keep an eye out for funnel clouds while I concentrated on not hitting slower-moving traffic in front of us.

The Best Western French Quarter had sheltered parking; and by the time we checked in and got our stuff settled in our room, the rain had all but stopped.

What is apparently the "gay section" of the French Quarter was just around the corner from our hotel.

Once the rain stopped, the tourists came out. And there's really one reason most tourists come to New Orleans: to party.

I noticed that, unlike St. Augustine, the streets here were straight as arrows, with an interesting building or buildings at the end, providing scale and connection to the larger New Orleans area.

Another tourist, for some reason, ran up to me to tell me I had to take a picture of the shadow of the statue of Christ in front of the old church at the end of the street.

We had dinner in an upstairs restaurant that required us to walk through another restaurant to get to. Keith wanted to try local cuisine and had some gumbo.

But neither Keith nor I are really partiers. And I was tired from driving for three hours in a torrential downpour, and Keith was tired from keeping an eye out for tornados. So we decided to hit the hay early, so we could get the morning's sightseeing out of the way and continue on our way home.