March 22, 2009
Stella, Max and Sadie (our two-year-old Bichon Frisé wards), and I awoke around 8 am on Monday, March 9, 2009 in the Marriott Residence Inn in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Stella went off for the day to do some shopping with our daughter, Charla. Being a Monday, Charla’s husband, Dennis, and their two sons, Ellis and Brady, were at work and in school, respectively. Shopping is not one of my favorite pastimes, so I decided Max, Sadie, and I would re-explore, these, some of my favorite environs. Max and Sadie are game, and even enthusiastic, for whatever. After a final look around the room and out the window to check the weather (remember, this is Louisiana), we loaded ourselves into the car, Max and Sadie in their kennel in the back seat, and me, with my Olympus Stylus digital camera in the front.
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In Plaquemine I revisited the site of the greatest display of impromptu jumping rope I ever witnessed in the early 1980’s. No rope-jumping impresarios were visible, but the colorful neighborhood, on W. W. Harleaux Street, remained the same.
We drove toward the Mississippi through a few neighborhoods where the Azaleas, and many others,
We crossed Highland Road, parked (legally, I presume) on a Ziegen Lane bridge to observe some white waterfowl decorating a fallen tree.
And so out of town to River Road. I turned left, downriver, with the levee on my right. We watched some Angus cattle graze on the levee.
The River Road is noted for its ante-bellum mansions, but I find the contemporary modest homes more interesting.
I have driven this route ten or twelve times, always hoping the ferry to Plaquemine would be open. Even though maps say it is open, my experience has been it was not --- that is, until today. It was open! My vague plans for revisiting the left bank were cancelled. We topped the levee and got in line for the ferry.
I do not recall my first ferry ride, but I have loved them ever since or even before. Particularly, I love crossing the Mississippi on a ferry. When I enquired as to the fare, the toll-taker asked if I was over sixty. I responded positively, he said people over sixty qualified for free passage. I did not glorify, aloud, in exactly how well qualified I was. While I enjoyed the ride, Sadie and Max slept in the back seat.
My first call in Plaquemine was to the City Café. Alas, it was closed, apparently for good. I had lunch there about six years ago and found their hen and boudin gumbo, served with a big dollop of rice and buttered French bread, memorable. The sign still says, “Open Since 1919”, but it was not. Our next stop was by the canal where the dogs had a blast running through the grass and trying to investigate the foundation of the old railway drawbridge. Its rusted framework and counter-weights are impressive.
Stella has been discussing our need for down sizing, and we even looked at a high-rise condominium in San Antonio. Perhaps a small place on WW Harleaux would be the answer. If only the City Café were still open!
Driving up the right bank led me past the big Dow Chemical Plant and the tiny town of Addicks, where my daughter, Lela, lived at the time of Laura’s birth. Watching traffic, carefully, and a place for lunch, I missed Addicks altogether. A big sign saying, “Crawfish Hut”, caught my eye. Alas, it, too, was closed. I got a fish sandwich at a Burger King --- not bad, but not expected.
We approached the high bridge from the industrial west bank. I was reminded of Governor Huey Long’s placement of the low bridge at the north end of town to curtail Mississippi traffic beyond Baton Rouge. Cities like Natchez and Memphis were hurt, badly, but Baton Rouge became a great seaport.
and so up and over
and home.
After a short nap, the human members of the pack (Brady Dennis, Ellis, Charla and Nana + Papa photographer) went to dinner, while the canines dined in. We had been eating so much Louisiana food (certainly one of our favorites) for so long we decided to go to a new Mexican restaurant our family recommended. Being from Southwest Texas, we have strong ideas about that cuisine, but consented. They were right. It was delicious. I never knew crawfish enchiladas and crawfish quesadillas could taste so good!
After such a long eventful day, some of us had difficulty keeping our eyes open.
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