i do like to be beside the seaside… so arriving into Fairhope, Alabama after a long day’s drive was just dandy. we walked out to sea on the long stretch of pier, reminisced about Dawson’s Creek episodes (disclaimer: that was just me; beth doesn’t share my love of pacey and the gang. but i still like her, as much as i question her taste for sophisticated television), sampled beignets and coffee, had a cocktail at the grand, played horseshoes in the presence of the toffs (do they have toffs in america?! they were toffs who dress like golf pros) and even managed to cross over into florida, stopping for gumbo and other delicious seafood on the way. Florabama was a trip – the meeting place of the two states and an excuse for a big beachside bar – and walking on the sand as the sun ambled its way towards a sunset was just lovely.i loved seeing new orleans, disturbing as it was in parts. we had a lively tour guide in the form of an eccentric friend of a friend, whose stories about the effects in the area of ivan and katrina shocked and moved us. there was something so haunting about the abandoned wal-mart on the way into the city. it closed down after looting and violence broke out in the store and is now an empty shell covered in graffiti. having seen dozens of wal-marts in the last four months, from nebraska to georgia and everywhere in between, seeing this dilapidated empty warehouse seemed to pierce, momentarily, the myth of wal-mart’s over-arching power, and to remind me how different the world becomes when want is replaced by need.
we took the ferry across the mississippi river and spent most of the day wandering through the french quarter. we perused the silver, masks, beads and rings on display at the outdoor market; the old cameras, doorknobs and picture frames at the indoor artist’s market. i had a bracelet made by very sweet and intuitive man and we bought a black and white print of a cross in a new orleans cemetery, in which the dead are laid to rest above the ground. later in the afternoon, beth and i found ourselves in the company of two white russians for the obligatory stroll along bourbon street. frankly, it freaked me out (I’d rather read war and peace in swedish than attend a live sex show) and made me think twice about wanting to be in town for mardi gras. there are some cultural experiences i can do without. (chapters not tassles please!) we finished the day dancing to a live band at an outdoor Mexican restaurant. smiles all round. despite my hunch that i need to work on my salsa…
