Mississippi River Dreams

Everyone has a list.

Whether you like to admit it or not. Whether you write it down or not. You have a list tucked away in your head of things for someday. Things to see. Things to do.

My mom has a little tiny list. Just a few things she’d like to see and do. And she knows that seeing and doing them will be hard work. She may not like where she goes…..but she still wants to go….just to see.

The southern plantations and a ride on the Mississippi River were two pretty important unchecked items for her. And she wanted to see them the right way, meaning she needed a tour guide.

And that’s me. Happy to oblige.

I’m never really one to turn down travel of any sort.

While I know traveling with my parents is a bit of work….they are my parents. I don’t get them forever. We have learned the hard way as a family that life doesn’t go on forever. I got a first hand glimpse of what it will be like to lose my mom, and I want to do things with her and for her while she’s here. My dad too. I want them to have a few adventures……and an outing with me is always an awesome adventure . I live differently. My pace is different. The way I see things is different. The way I experience things is different. I want them to have that.

So south we flew.

We chose Baton Rouge. It’s close to the Mississippi and all the Plantations.

Little did we know we chose a place with people who knew so little and took absolutely no interest in tourism (unless you were there to see the LSU campus (sorry guys, we weren’t interested) ) So we managed to find our own way. Which can be frustrating, and exciting all the same.

I rented a car and took the wheel as the official tour guide and headed on our way.

We spent very little time in Baton Rouge itself. We toured the notable Old Capital. I could only imagine that the politicians in those days were as colorful as the stained glass that covered the entire building. Louisiana has laws that might be some of the most absurd things I have ever heard. (It’s illegal to gargle in public, mourners at a wake may not eat more than three sandwiches and you can’t tie an alligator to a fire hydrant (there are SOOOO many more.) )

We rented a car and cruised south to Slidel to see the swamps. It was cold. In the 50’s there, which is really cold for them. The gators and the snakes were hiding, which was fine, we got to see plenty of wildlife. Boars in the swamp, was something I wasn’t expecting. But ducks and birds and raccoons. They all came out to greet us. The river was several feet above flood level so it was fast and furious. Our boat lost its motor on the return trip and we can to get rescued in the middle of the flood waters (no biggie, we just stepped onto another boat after some mad river maneuvers by the owners.)

By the end of the day, we three were wiped out. Sleeping ensued almost immediately after dinner. After I had put my mother into a talk time out so I could plan the following day (I realized early in the trip my body is done talking at approximately 8pm, my fingers are ready to type, but my part of my brain connected to my mouth is done.)

The second day was plantation day. Heading south we managed to tour two of the greatest plantations in the area and were able to stop by and visit more. We went at our own pace. We stayed as long as we wanted. We ate alongside the road at a little cafe with the best crab stuffed jalenpenos in the land. We drove through sugar cane farm land for hours, following the Mississippi the whole way (which was also at dangerous flood levels, gates needing to be opened soon) My mother’s dream came true. She got to stand on grand balconies. She got to walk through grand tree lines. She got to tour slave quarters that she’s only seen in movies. She learned that most of the plantations looked colossal but were so NOT colossal (the one with the two sets of stairs only had three bedrooms when it was built, and that’s all the house had. No hallways or closets because residents in Louisiana are taxed on those luxuries.) She got to hear stories about creole families and their children and the hardships and diseases they endured and how all of them had to work together to survive, no matter what color they were (the history of Evergreen plantation was by far the best I’ve heard or toured) She got to see what live oaks were and feel Spanish moss. She got the full experience. As we crossed the Mississippi on the long drive back she talked and talked about what she had just seen. I think she was a happy camper.

The last day was spent in New Orleans. I was leery to drive in a city with 4 million people especially in the French quarter, so we caught a “megabus” down there (it’s only an hour away.) The bus turned out to have a station in a dangerous neighborhood, so thank goodness for Uber drivers who are willing to sit with you until the bus actually arrives at 4:50 in the morning. We arrived in a fog covered city at 6am. Our taxi dropped us off at Cafe Du Monde….being one of the first to be served for the day and one of only two tables there. An hour later the cafe had a line down the block for the famous chicory coffee and beignets. We shopped and ate some more and then hopped on one of only two steam powered boats here in the states for a little trip down the river. Another dream come true. My parents loved it. We spent the rest of our time there wandering the streets. They stopped and listened to bands on every corner. The city had filled up and the sidewalks were impassable and the noise and music wound around us and it was nearly impossible not to dance with each step.

We ate seafood and crawfish until we just couldn’t anymore. We tasted all the pralines we could. We toured and drove and toured and yelled at one another. And laughed with one another. We learned to live in a hotel with one another. Once you get older, you forget what that was like earlier in your life and you have to relearn.

I was just happy that I could be part of someone else’s list for once.