ROBINET: The last stop is The Big Easy

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Having never been to New Orleans before, I had been looking forward to the final days of our travels, which saw my friend Marg and I heading to ‘The Big Easy’ in the run-up to its busiest day of the year: Mardi Gras.

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I’d like to say that our visit went off without a hitch, but that would be a lie!

After leaving the Florida Panhandle, we headed west along the Gulf coast, arriving at our hotel, which was a good half hour away from New Orleans later in the afternoon.

The next morning, we hopped into the ol’ roadster and pointed it towards the city where the first thing on the agenda was a visit to Mardi Gras World, which is a huge complex where most of the floats used in the famous parades are built, revamped and stored.

We arrived in the morning, and after a little bit of consternation trying to figure out where to park, we left my car in a large parking lot which belonged to the convention centre across the road.

Marg had informed me that Mardi Gras World had a free shuttle which would take us to the fabled French Quarter so we would have our tour and then head into the heart of New Orleans.

We took a self-guided tour and marvelled at the spectacular floats that were on hand and learned that many of the components are made out of sheets of styrofoam stacked and glued together and then carved.

After that, we hopped onto the shuttle with the intention of spending the day in the city.

Since I always like to have a good sense of what’s what on these junkets, I thought it prudent to ask the driver what time the last shuttle went back.

“Back where?” he asked.

“Back to the museum,” I said.

“Are you asking me if I take you back?” he asked. “I don’t take you back.”

After an awkward pause, he asked, “why would you want to go back?”

“To get my car,” I said.

Well, let me tell you how glad I was to have asked that initial question because it transpired that the shuttles were actually designed to pick people up at their hotels, run them out to the museum and back again, and that the parking lot where my vehicle was at that very moment quietly resting, would later be filled with floats and people for that evening’s parade, which had been another item on our itinerary.

The driver was kind enough to let us stay on the shuttle and return to the museum. From there, we drove to a public parking lot in the heart of it all where we discovered that you either needed to send a text to a number or scan a QR code to pay for said parking. We encountered an epic fail on both counts and were forced to leave the city altogether, comforted by the thought that we had at least done one thing, the weather would be nicer tomorrow and the parade would probably be rained out anyway (which it wasn’t!).

Tomorrow rolled around and Marg decided we should take a more ‘scenic’ drive from our hotel to downtown New Orleans where we now had everything we thought we would need to make the paid parking work for us.

After what seemed like hours of driving down back roads and side roads, we found ourselves in the midst of the New Orleans revelry, with me dodging drunken pedestrians and other hapless vehicles jockeying for position on the narrow roads.

By the time we finally found a parking spot I was pretty much ready to leave, while Marg was busily planning how to add extra time to the three hours of parking she had already successfully paid for.

With the events of the previous day still at the back of my mind, I wasn’t interested in getting trapped in the city and fortunately a nearby couple heard our discussion and confirmed that, “if you don’t leave by three or three-thirty, you won’t get out.”

So three hours of parking it was and Marg and I parted ways to explore the area separately.

I must say I enjoyed my time in the city and it’s hard not to get caught up in the infectious joy that the Mardi Gras spirit imbues it with at this time of year.

However, if I were to visit again, I would definitely plan on staying right in the city and not have to deal with a vehicle!

As luck would have it, as we’d been driving in earlier that day, I had noticed that along several kilometres of the roadway in the town of Slidell, chairs had been set up and vehicles parked in what looked like pre-parade preparation. I went into a store to inquire and it turned out a parade was indeed taking place there later that night.

Considering we had been denied our original parade experience, this seemed like a great opportunity, so we decided to head back later.

The spot we chose to wait for the parade at, which was midway or so through the route was filled with tailgaters and the thrill of excitement was in the air for the entire two-and-a-half hours that we waited for it, in very chilly conditions.

Having set up our chairs at 6 p.m., it was 8:30 p.m. before we finally laid eyes on the parade, but it was well worth the wait to soak up a little more Mardi Gras flavour, and I even managed to catch a few of the beaded necklaces that are a fixture there.

But of course, all good things must come to an end and after two days of driving on the return trip, it’s back to work for this weary traveller!

Stay well my friends.