New Orleans Day 3

Just so you know, there is no expectation that all of you are reading these very long and frankly self-indulgent recaps of our trip. I mostly write them for myself, because this blog is the only way I remember anything anymore. 

With that in mind, onward!

Every day began with me drinking coffee in a dark house before the sun and the family were up. When the sun came up, I would go outside and walk around the quiet neighborhood we were staying in.

I love the giant live oaks hanging over the street.

Even though the roots do this to the sidewalks. And the roads themselves.

I didn't have to wake everyone up super early this morning, but we did need to get going somewhat promptly to drive out to Oak Alley plantation for the tour I had scheduled at the house there for 10:15 a.m.

There are many plantations out on this road west of New Orleans. We didn't have time to tour multiple ones, unfortunately, so I just chose the most well-known one. Oak Alley is one of the bigger and fancier plantations. Sort of like the Gone with the Wind plantation.

Overlooking the alley of oaks from which the plantation got its name.

A. and I had been there maybe 20 years ago, and they've made some changes since then. Notably, they've reconstructed the slave cabins and have much more information there than they did previously. 

One of the informational signs in these cabins explained how the slaves were baptized and mentioned that the church where this happened was only about four miles away. A. really wanted to go there, so after we spent some time walking around the gardens and grounds after the guided house tour, we drove to the church.

The church there now was built in I think the 1920s, after the older church was destroyed when the river came over the levee right there and washed everything away. The newer church was open, so we were able to go in and look around.

Some information in the church itself explained its history, including that the records for this church were at various times kept in French, Spanish, and English, according to who owned this area at different times. This church was actually in the Diocese of Havanna (Cuba) for a time, hence the Spanish. Louisiana and New Orleans are most often associated with the French, but the Spanish history there is just as strong.

Anyway. Across the road from the church was the original cemetery. It also sustained a lot of damage from the same flooding, and many of the mausoleums were damaged. We didn't have a lot of time to look around, as we had to get going to our scheduled swamp tour, so we just quickly drove through the cemetery before getting back on the road.

I had planned to stop at a restaurant near the swamp tour place for po' boy sandwiches, but between our church exploration and taking longer than I expected to get to the swamp tour, we didn't have time. Instead we got Subway sandwiches on the way and ate them in the car. Boo.

However! We did get to the swamp tour location right on time. 

I discovered when I was trying to find a good swamp tour that these companies do not allow children on the private boat tours, which is what I would have preferred. Instead we had to go on a big pontoon boat. And this particular company fed the animals with marshmallows, even the alligators. This did ensure that we saw animals--raccoons, wild boar, and the alligators--but I was not too pleased about that.

Can you spot the alligator?

The kids loved it, though, especially the part where they all got to hold a little alligator.

I really had no interest in holding this myself, but the captain was quite insistent.

By the time we finished with the swamp tour, it was somewhat late in the afternoon. We drove right back to the house for dinner and some downtime before bed. It was not hard to get any of the children to sleep after all of our exciting and tiring days.

Speaking of exciting . . . check back later for the tale of our last full day in New Orleans, in which I discover I have messed up our Airbnb booking and I have to scramble to find another one. Which ends up being literally next door to a college bar.