What a bunch of good folks they are down there in Cajun Country. Indeed, I made some good friends 'South of the Deep South', most notably fellow STers, Chris & Mike, who gave me so much of their time and kind hospitality. Thanks fellas .. I'm in your debt. Come see us all over in Europe sometime, eh? .. just so's I can return the favour(s) .. ;o) ;o)
But it's time to move on east again. My next important date occurs this forthcoming Saturday, May-03, when I'm due to collect Ellen from Hartsfield-Jackson Int'l Airport in Atlanta, Georgia. Better get a move on then.And I take back what I said about all interstates, motorways & autobahns looking the same. Well, perhaps mostly they are, but the interstate ride away eastwards from Lafayette, along I-10(E), towards Baton Rouge (Louisiana's capital city BTW) is an exceptional example. Over the Atchafalaya Basin - the largest swamp in the US - I-10(E) runs across elevated countless concrete pillars for 18 miles (29,000 m) and effectively turns into one long continuous bridge. I took the above pic, right in between the two carriageways, at one of the very few dry 'islands' I could find along the way.
BTW, my track is down the right-hand carriageway, towards the cities of Baton Rouge .. and New Orleans beyond.
Turning south at Baton Rouge, just skirting the city, I stopped to take this picture of a typical petro-chemical plant; an industry that dominates this part of the USA .. and almost got myself arrested in the process [eek!]. Apparently I was breaching security regulations. Perhaps next time I want to infiltrate and take amateur snapshots of a top secret American facility, well, maybe I'll just consider doing so by way of Google Earth, from the comfort of my Cornish armchair .. ;o) From here onwards, for miles and miles, the awful effects of Katrina, the costliest and one of the five deadliest hurricanes in America’s history starts to become apparent. Katrina was the sixth-strongest Atlantic hurricane ever recorded and the third-strongest hurricane on record that made landfall from around here eastwards during that infamous night at the end of August, 2005.
Can you imagine 175 mph (280 km/h) wind strengths? I can’t. Then quickly followed by a surge of storm water, a tsunami really; an unprecedented cataclysm of flood damage occurred, of course, as a result. Incredible. Now what lies ahead .. I’m wondering?
But by the time I arrive at my New Orleans motel (Harvey District - south of the Mississippi River), I have a more mundane issue to contemplate and deal with. It's the start of the first 'Love-Bug' season here along the Gulf of Mexico .. :o( .. Needless to say that I was expecting this, but it doesn't make the grimy job of washing the sexy little critters' corpses off my windshield and forward-facing bodywork any less of an irritating and unwanted chore. 
It’s still only late afternoon (c. 4:30pm), so there’s still time to get from my motel Manhattan Blvd [in Harvey], across to the northern bank of the Mississippi and the ‘French Quarter’ in particular – where all the ‘action’ is supposed to be [.. uh-oh!]
Well, maybe I got to the French Quarter at the wrong time of day; or maybe I was misguidedly allured to the wrong place - the infamous Bourbon Street area - but apart from a few interesting Old Colonial-type buildings ... 
.. I found the place rather tacky and distasteful. Or maybe I'm just growing too old [and wise] for the attractions of "Beer and Naked Pussy" nowadays, eh? Right now I'd rather settle for a splendid cuppa tea .. and a nice slice of buttered saffron cake.
I must be getting old, right?!
6:45pm: the rush-hour traffic must be easing by now. Let's get back to the motel and get an update on the Champions League semi-final footbal [soccer] match.
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[later]: So Chelsea reached the Champions League final with a dramatic 3-2 victory over Liverpool after extra-time at Stamford Bridge. It's gonna be a hellofa Final in Moscow between Man Utd v Chelsea on Wednesday evening, 21 May 2008! I'll need to make sure that I'm in front of a BIG TV screen that afternoon - [NB: 19:45pm BST = 14:45pm Eastern Time here in the States]
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Wednesday, April-30
Perhaps I have a morbid sense of curiosity, but I nevertheless wanted to see more, at first hand, of the full extent of the damage caused by Katrina during the late summer of 2005. Remember that a Category 5 hurricane had never before made a direct hit on a major western city.
So I head back over the Mississippi to the French Quarter and book a seat on a GrayLine bus for the 1:00pm ‘Katrina Tour’. 
I was in for an education alright, as we speed downtown and past the fabled Superdome, sporting its brand new roof, where so many thousands - mainly poor black folk - made their way to find ‘sanctuary’ [not] during that fateful first week of September 2005.
We drive further over the newly repaired ‘levies’ [canals], which are designed to drain the potentially invasive water away from lower-lying and densely populated suburbs below
See what I mean [look over the left-hand wall of this levy] The houses and other buildings around here are actually lower than the levies’ water level. When the levies’ walls failed to contain the Storm’s surge water, and burst open .. well, the effects of the deluge were simply catastrophic
Nearly three years later and re-building work is still taking place everywhere around here. Indeed, it hasn’t even started in many areas .. in fact, the initial cleaning-up process has yet to begin.
A fairly typical, still uninhabitable, home .. now abandoned, of course ..
.. let’s take a closer look at the markings left by the urban Search & Rescue teams when they rummage through a house. Everywhere in New Orleans, every house and every other structure, you will see these kinda markings on buildings.When the federal, state or local agency search team goes into a house - by boat only - they paint an ‘X’ just above the high water mark. Here the water had reached well above the top of the entrance doorway.
In the upper quadrant they put the date they searched it. Remember that Katrina hit on August-29, and you can see that this house was first searched on September-08, ten days after the Storm.
In the left-hand quadrant, they put some indication of who searched it. Here it was a team from Arizona.
After they're done searching they fill in the bottom quadrant with any people they found, living or dead (here they found nobody). These house markings also show when they found animals .. dogs and cats, etc. Note that people were not allowed to take their pets with them when evacuating the city.
Then they mark the right-hand quadrant with any hazards that future teams should be aware of (such as unstable stairwells, missing floors, etc). I dunno what “NE” stands for .. maybe it indicates “No Entry” .. ?
Look down even lower. After the water had receded a bit, you can just see that the house was searched yet again on September-24, at which time they discover that they’re dealing with not one family house, but two semi-detached dwellings.
We headed out to the famed Lower 9th Ward, which in its original form, to be blunt, is almost gone. Just yards from the Industrial Canal levee, this area took the full force of the water, a kind of inland tsunami. Then it sat underwater for weeks.
Today, whole areas have been cleared so the remains of streets go past vacant lots and rubble. Some structures remain. Occasionally there is a small house of brick or cinder block that is relatively intact. 
Other signs are testaments to human spirit: "LISA & DONNIE R OK!" and/or with addresses in another state. Of course, those outer walls may be all that remains. Everything inside these houses would be totally ruined.
.. or please “DO NOT DEMOLISH” our home [what’s left of it] .. I found this all quite wretched and pitiful, of course ..
.. plus other helpful information . I see yet more signs spray-painted on houses that clearly are a means of expression of frustration and anger. "F~CK HOUSTON", says a sign on one wall in the Lower 9th Ward. I didn’t have time to take a pic as our bus sped by.
And FEMA (the Federal Emergency Management Agency), to put it just as impolitely, is clearly not very popular hereabouts either.
We then drive up-river to the Upper 9th Ward, across the now repaired Industrial Canal levee, the RH side of which was breached by a runaway barge during ‘that night’. As you can see, and would expect, it's all now been patched-up and repaired.
The damage around this region of the City is just as bad.
But they are recovering.. slowly, but surely. Clearly the pride and spirit of New Orleans is still alive and well. But I can’t help thinking to myself, ‘it could happen all over again in 20 years’ time ..’‘.. and what will happen, then? .. could ANY community recover from a second, quick succession, catastrophic event of this magnitude’
I just dunno .. but I very much doubt it.
With the 3-hour tour over I take a final look around the French Quarter; avoiding Bourbon Street completely, but instead I wander around the French Market area. Bizarrely, because of its close proximity to the Mississippi River - which is considered to be 'highground' - most of The Quarter escaped massive flooding. Severe wind damage it did get, but this can be, and indeed was, repaired comparitively quickly.
There's some good stuff to see in the Market region of The Quarter ...
.. with music, mainly jazz of course, playing from every bar and café - in other words, from every other entrance and doorway
And even on the streets. It makes good listening too .. :o) -------------------------------
Thursday, May-01
I don’t have a long stretch in the saddle today. Just 135 miles - say no more than three hours, tops – before I reach tonight’s motel in the neighbouring state of Mississippi.
My inital passage out of 'Nawlins' will, however, take me over and across Lake Pontchartrain on the Pontchartrain Causeway, which, with a total length of 24 miles, makes it the longest bridge in the world. It could easily span the English Channel from Dover to Calais. Come joim me on the ride, just for a minute, across a small section of this arrow-straight section of causeway-road ..
[Click on the forward play arrow above]
28 minutes later I reach the northern shore at the Township of Mandeville, turn right onto I-12(E) for just another 26 miles, before exiting at Slidell ... 
.. 14 eastern-bound miles later (20 minutes) and I'm crossing yet another stateline - this time into Mississippi. 
Okay, so Louisiana - and the City of New Orleans, of course - got a real hammering from Katrina.As I ride eastwards across US-90 - deliberately to stay alongside the coast, as close as I can - it is obvious that this region of the Gulf Coast suffered just as badly. I didn't take any pics of wrecked buildings, I didn't see the point, but I did stop to take a photo of this Katrina-damaged road repair work, which shows that a lot of the sidewalk decking was also destroyed during the Storm - just washed away with the surge, I guess.
Then recently-retired Mike, down from Seattle WA, just out for a ride on his Hardley Rideable motorsickle, pulls up alongside me and we immediately strike-up a good conversation - we clearly had a lot in common - same age etceteras - and both realised it straightaway.
So Mike follows me into the next town, of Gulf Port. We pre-agreed to stop at the first suitable eating house we see ...
.. which turned-out to be not the run-of-the-mill casual diner we thought it to be at first view.It was, in fact, a full silver-service restaurant - complete with a contingent from the local Womens Institute club .. all sporting their best Sunday Church bonnets ..
.. and we two, with our armoured riding apparel, helmets, and grimy steel-toed boots. We were just ever-so 'slightly' under-dressed for the occasion - and feeling it [uh-oh!]
But the waiting staff were all marvellously attentive; the food was good ...
.. and I was in great company!
Have a good rest-of-the trip Mike .. ;o)
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Friday, May-02
I am meeting-up with Guy ‘BamaRider’ Boutin today at 12-noon – and I’m looking forward to it. In fact, I dare say, that without Guy’s inspiration, I probably wouldn’t have even contemplated this two-leg North American trip in the first place.
Before we can meet-up at the pre-arranged rendezvous I need to leave Mississippi and head-on up to Alabama - Guy's home state. Crossing the stateline I notice that there's no 'fanfare' welcome, just a small sign indicating the location of the invisible dividing line, as I ride past it at 70 mph.
Just a couple of hundred yards further up I-65(N) I see that there's a Rest Area and Welcome Center ...
.. so I pull-in and get my picture 
78 miles [1hr 15mins] later I exit the interstate at junction 57 at 11:58am. Guy is waiting for me, flanking his shiny red Beemer, at the exact spot we agreed upon a couple of days earlier. I wish that all meeting of this nature were as simple and trouble-free as this one!
72 northbound miles up Hwy-21, which is certainly 'off-the-beaten-track', we pass through the tiny isolated village of Oak Hill. A small crowd of local black folk are preparing a 'Fish Fry' - which as far as I could make-out, is a type social gathering, typically held outdoors just for fun, or maybe for some small commercial consideration to cover the basic costs. 
Guy tells them that I've travelled all the way from England, and even drops the hint that I've probably never seen a black person before! ..... then the fun really starts.
"Well my goodness sugar hun .. so you ain't never seen a black woman b'fore, huh?"
" .. you poor ol' white boy. Look here, I got the wiry fuzzy hair .. an' everythang"They were all such good sports .. and genuinely funny too .. :o)
Then we meet mama, who's 'heard' of England .. but really ain't got a clue where on Earth it is! - then she starts to mumble that ".. I really likes them right purdy motorsickles" .. and she straightaway volunteers to have her picture taken alongside them both
Then Grandpa walks by - "You know where that comes from? Watching too mucha that dayum TV!"Real black deep-southerners - who probably have never been much more than a 100 miles from this rural spot. Indeed, Guy reckons that I'm probably the very first foreigner some of these local black folk have ever seen!
I wish we could have stayed longer, but it was time to move further north to the famed and celebrated town of Selma ...
.. situated on the banks of the Alabama River
'Famous for what?' you might very well ask. Answer: It is infamous - and perhaps this bridge in particular - as the site of the conflict of 'Bloody Sunday' (March 7, 1965), where armed officers attacked peaceful black civil rights demonstrators.
'African American' people received the right to vote very soon after 'Bloody Sunday'. So this, the Edmund Pettus Bridge, is a highly symbolic landmark, for all Americans who just happen to have been born with a black pigment in their skin.
Here, click on the above pic, and read about for yourself. 
Another 40 miles' ride to the east and we arrive at Guy's home in Prattville, just to the northwest of Montgomery City. I park-up inside, and alongside, Guy's two shiny rides: a blue 2004 Honda ST1300; and a red 2005 BMW R1200 RT. Some guys get all the good rides, eh?!
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After a great supper of grilled steak and chicken + salads, corn and baked potatoes prepared by Debbie - Guy's really bubbly Super-Gal wife, we retire to the family lounge, and watch a Western movie until I just can't keep my eyes open any longer .. and fall asleep.
Now then, contrary to popular opinion, I can confirm that THIS is the young-retired BamaRider's most natural position, within his own debt-free habitat .. that is, when he ain't watching his 200-channel 46" wide-screen TV; or got his head stuck in his PC's monitor, in his very own private study; or riding one of his TWO top-of-the-range sports tourers; or being just plain ol' spoilt by a really great gal .. his lovely wife, Debbie.Some guys are just holding ALL the aces!! .. ;o)
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Saturday, May-03
Soon after this morning's rainstorm had dissipated, by around 12:30pm, I get underway from Guy & Debbie's place for Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, Atlanta, in the neighbouring state of Georgia.
Thanks again my Alabama-based mates, Guy & Debbie, for 24 hours of literal 'Home-from-Home' domestic bliss. Absolutely, just what the doctor ordered .. ;o)
92 miles later - and yet another new state ...
.. and after a further 75 miles, and with just 5-10 minutes to spare, I make it to the Airport; and spot Ellen walking across the North Terminal's concourse .. looking dawg-tired, as you would expect after such a long-haul flight across the Atlantic from London 
Baggage reclaimed - job done .. and it's back to the motel.I think my love life is about to change! .. ;o)
