The Road Trip Ends

From Tennessee, we continued driving into North Carolina, passing through the Great Smoky Mountains – and man were they smokin’ today:

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The Smokies are named for the fog that rises in early morning hours and after it rains, a result of warm humid air from the Gulf of Mexico cooling in the higher elevation. It was raining as we entered, soon causing an endless amount of  impressive plumes.

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I always hate having a destination on a roadtrip, especially one with a time commitment, because it means you’re less free to take the unexpected detours that make roadtripping so much fun. Unfortunately, if we wanted to see the Biltmore Mansion, we had no choice but to high-tail it through the winding mountain pass with zero stops.

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To this day, the Biltmore is the largest private residence in the United States, with over 250 rooms. I wish I could show you pictures of the interior, but they have a no photography policy. Not sure how I could possibly damage the Vanderbilt family’s revenue by putting up pictures to entice people to visit, but oh well.

After going on the 3 hour tour, I will agree that the Biltmore is one of those places you absolutely have to visit before you die…

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…but I do have one complaint: $60 a head?? Are you kidding me?? Then, after paying and going inside, we learned that that the audio guides (free at nearly every self-guided historical building I’ve ever been to) cost an additional $10 each! EACH! I think the elderly woman working the counter noticed the look of exasperation on my face, because she snuck us two for free.

Again: worth seeing, but definitely devote an entire day to the experience to make it feel like your money was well spent. I honestly felt more satisfied with my $30 trip to Graceland.

As we continued our route north to New York City (at this point, traveling on Interstates to get back in time), we decided to make one final stop in Washington D.C. After parking the car, we ate lunch on a bench in front of the White House, and it never ceases to amaze me that you can get so close to the home of the President.

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I gotta admit, every time I visit Washington D.C., I feel really inspired.

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It’s easy to be cynical about American politics, but I find that this washes away when I explore the city.

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While the grandeur of the buildings and monuments are certainly impressive, it’s the overall concentration of accomplishment and history that really gets to me.

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To be clear, it’s not a pride thing – personally I’ve never been one to feel pride simply because of shared geography. Immensely grateful, amazed, uplifted, and inspired by the triumphs of others, absolutely.

Seeing the space suit that allowed Buzz Aldrin to walk on the moon at the Smithsonian brings me to tears. Such an unbelievable achievement, and I immediately feel that aspiration to contribute something of my own. Standing in the literal shadow of such a triumph, it really does feel like anything is possible.

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The same goes for seeing the vest worn by Gene Kranz at mission control as he helped bring Apollo 13 safely back to Earth. I mean, really – the stuff of legends here.

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Washington also has its share of artifacts from the failures and tragedies of America’s history, and I find these to be equally moving. Inspiration can just as readily come from a desire to learn, evolve, and overcome as it can from the great successes of others.

For these reasons, I’ve always considered D.C. to be an important stop for any cross-country roadtrip, and as we were driving through the city, I was happy to find that we were suddenly on US-50 – the two-lane route that had taken use across the US!

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In D.C., US-50 is better known as Constitution Ave, and passes by the White House, the Washington Monument, and the National Archives, which houses the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights (among many, many other documents). It was a nice way to end the trip by rejoining the route we had started on.

We made it back to New York City later that night, and as I pulled into a space that was safe from the dangers of alternate side parking, so concluded the Great Road Trip of 2010.

Thank you all very much for joining us on our journey via the internet. To me, nothing offers such endless possibilities and promise for adventure, experience, and triumph as an open road stretching into the horizon. I hope you’ve enjoyed our trip, and maybe have even been inspired to go one yourself someday.

Just remember the rules: 1) not too much planning, 2) no Interstates, and 3) bring a friend.

nick4

-SCOUT

PS -A look back on US-50, from start to finish. It’s not entirely complete – we started in Indiana and ended in Nevada – but I’ve included the beginning and end mileage signs from Ocean City, MD, and Sacramento, CA, which I hope to see one day in person. Enjoy!

map

start

Continue reading The Road Trip Ends

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Louisiana to Tennessee: From Beautiful Oak Alley Plantation to the Kitsch of Graceland

We left New Orleans following the Great River Road north, which winds along the south side of the Mississippi. While we saw the occasional sugar cane field that once brought tremendous wealth to the state…

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…most of the horizon was dominated by impossibly ugly petrochemical plants. While brochures may call the route Plantation Alley, it’s known as Chemical Corridor to locals for a reason.

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For a while, it was plant…

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…after plant…

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…after plant…

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…after plant, all of which seemed to be competing for a biggest eyesore prize.

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Finally, the road started to gain a bit of charm…

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Beautiful Spanish moss trees along the highway:

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We also began seeing some archetypal ramshackle houses, which is pretty much how Hollywood envisions all of residential Louisiana to be:

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Another house along the road:

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Then we arrived at the gorgeous entrance to the Oak Alley plantation, whose name should be self-explanatory:

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Built between 1837 and 1839, Oak Alley’s 1/4 mile canopy of gnarled oak trees predates the mansion by more than 100 years.

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Each oak tree is really incredible, especially when you consider the amount of history they’ve witnessed on the property. I especially love how the roots seem to gracefully ripple out, like the bottom of a flowing wedding dress.

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The oaks continue on both sides of the plantation, ultimately leading up to the Mississippi River.

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We saw a few of these enormous bugs, which were about 3-4 inches in length. A fellow tourist identified them as Texas Grasshoppers, though I’m not sure if that’s accurate:

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An old garage on the plantation, with a previous owner’s cars inside.

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The actual tour of the house (no pictures allowed) was underwhelming, especially compared to the grandeur of the exterior. None of the furniture is original to the house, and the history honestly isn’t all that interesting. My favorite bit is when they describe the original owner as a “caring man” who sadly “had no choice but to use slaves.” My recommendation is to skip the tour and just enjoy the grounds.

We headed out, passing what appears to be an entire petrochemical city:

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Unfortunately, from this point on, we had a schedule we had to keep in order to return to New York in 3 days. Sadly, this meant we would no longer have time for casual stops, and we pretty much skipped the entire state of Mississippi, stopping only in Greenville to spend the night.

The next morning, we gassed up next a truck covered in pretty much every animated character ever created:

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Soon, we were in Tennessee…

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…and after, Memphis!

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We stopped in the historic downtown area…

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We decided to be tourists and eat at the Arcade Diner, which is one of those restaurants that’s way to famous to actually care about having decent food anymore.

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Like pretty much every establishment in town, Elvis is reputed to have been a frequent customer here, and my girlfriend got a fried peanut butter and banana sandwich in his honor.

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Outside, a “Modern Movie-Making In Memphis” sign commemorates Jim Jarmusch’s Mystery Train for using the town as a shooting location, which is probably the most obscure movie I’ve seen listed on an historical marker.

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As we drove around, we saw a few interesting bits. On this old building…

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…a fading ad for hot sausage.

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The Orpheum, the second theater to occupy the site since 1897. Once considered the finest opera house outside of New York, the original Orpheum burned down after becoming to a vaudeville theater. It was rebuilt in in 1928 and served as a movie theater til 1977. Today, it’s a Broadway theater.

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Commercializing the blues…

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Great old Universal Life Insurance sign (the company was founded in Memphis):

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A former gas station-turned church:

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Then we turned onto Elvis Presley Boulevard to visit the second most visited private home in the United States: Graceland (the White House is first). While strip malls and fast food joints literally border the Graceland property today, the area was entirely farmland when Elvis moved in in 1957.

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The tour begins not in the mansion, but rather in an ugly complex across the street. We paid $34 a piece for tickets, easily the most expensive attraction we’d visited on the roadtrip.

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We then boarded buses, which transported us across the street through the front gates…

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And right up to Elvis’ front door!

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I was pretty skeptical the tour would be worth the price…

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…but as soon as we went in through the front door, I knew we’d made the right decision.

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To describe Elvis’ as tacky would be inaccurate, as the house ascends to levels of tackiness the word was never meant to cover. Above, Elvis’ living room, with piano, old TV, and peacock stained-glass windows. Below, his new agey paper weight collection and gold ash tray:

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Elvis’ clock (note the bust in the background):

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Besides the decor, the first thing that struck me about Graceland was how small it is, especially by today’s standards. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but my dining room back home is about as big as the Presley’s (though we have not followed the black and gold color scheme):

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What also amazed me about the house is how mundane much of it seemed. Below, the kitchen, with cheesy carpet and cheap wooden cabinets:

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Best of all was Elvis’ jungle room, with green shag carpeting and a waterfall on the wall.

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Man, did Elvis love shag – it was on his sofa…

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…the staircase…

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…and even the ceiling:

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Next, we descended into Elvis’ basement to see the TV room, decorated in a yellow and black motif…

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Creepy porcelain monkey:

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Elvis’ TCB logo on the wall:

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Nearby is Elvis’ bar…

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…with creepy glass clowns:

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We crossed the hall to the billiard room, in which the walls and ceiling are completely covered in patterned cloth. With no windows, it felt extremely claustrophobic, like you were about to be smothered by an enormous comforter.

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On the way back up, I noticed this painting hanging in the hallway…

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…with a working clock face on the tower. I can just imagine Elvis being really impressed with the painting, with which he could both enjoy the pretty scene and know what time it was.

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That’s all they let you see of the main house – the upstairs bedrooms (including the bathroom Elvis died in) are off limits. Outside, a swingset for Lisa Marie.

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Next up was Elvis’ father’s office, with a number of portraits sent in by fans strewn around the room:

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The tour continues through rooms containing memorabilia from Elvis’ past. My favorite? The collection of movie posters, all of which seem to be centered around putting Elvis in a zanier activity than the last. First…

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Then…

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Finally (???)…

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Elvis’ kidney shaped pool:

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Side note: since when did elastics with shapes get so damn popular?? They’re all the same when you stretch them out! Nevertheless, they were all over Elvis’ grave:

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We went back across the street to check out Elvis’ car collection…

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A classic pink Cadillac owned by his mother:

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Elvis’ two private jets are also parked nearby…

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…and you can walk through both (the cheap plastic furniture covering actually seems to accent the decor):

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Interior of the second plane:

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Wish we could have stayed longer, but again, the clock was ticking. We continued driving north, stopping only at the awesome Jim ‘N Nick’s Bar-B-Q for some decent ribs.

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-SCOUT

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New Orleans: Balconies, Graveyards, Pirates, Gators, Swamps, Nicolas Cage, & Boobs

We’d been hoping to explore San Antonio for the first half of the day, but the speeding ticket we got the previous night threw the whole schedule off. We ended up getting in really late, causing us to wake up really late, and had no choice but to head out toward New Orleans, which was still 9 hours away.

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A warning to be heeded:

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Just over the border, we saw this billboard, and for a second, I actually thought Iowa was bizarrely advertising tourism to Louisiana. Then I realized it was actually for an outlet mall in Iowa, Louisiana.

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One of the few sections of Interstate I actually enjoy is I-10 along the south-east, when it travels through swamps on roads perched about twenty feet off the water.

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We hit New Orleans at around midnight and checked-in to our hotel, Le Richelieu.

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If you’re looking for a budget hotel in the heart of New Orleans’ French Quarter, you can do no better than Le Richelieu, where we had a great room for just $99/night (most hotels start at the $150-$200 range). Only a few blocks from the famous Cafe Du Monde and Bourbon Street, Le Richelieu is just far enough off the beaten path to feel like you’re escaping the crowds of tourists when you go home at night.

The decor is a bit worn but charming, and certainly beats the endless bland chain hotel rooms we’d been staying in. I believe the manager actually lives in the hotel, and pays very close attention to the daily workings of the place.

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There’s a nicely lit courtyard pool, which guests can enjoy at any hour of the day (thank God – it seems like every hotel in the country universally agreed to close their pools at 9pm, which really doesn’t work for roadtrippers).

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AND BEST OF ALL, YOU GET FREE PARKING! FREE! If you’ve never been to New Orleans, every hotel charges an additional parking fee, usually at a cost of about $30/day.

After checking in, we decided to walk around the neighborhood.

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Along with Venice and Sevilla, New Orleans’ French Quarter is one of favorite places in the world to walk around at night, after the tourists have mostly disappeared.

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I love the muggy warm air, the sudden stillness where once was revelry, and above all, the sense of mystery that pervades every street and building.

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On this particular night, we barely saw anyone as we walked around.

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Even Bourbon Street was on the quiet side:

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The next morning, we got breakfast at Cafe Du Monde, which has been in business since 1860 and is famous for their French-style beignets, essentially fried dough.

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Er, OK, it’s certainly decent enough fried dough, but at the end of the day, I think it’s a little silly to wait for 45 minutes in line for fried dough, when you certainly wouldn’t do the same at, say, a carnival. That said, I appreciate the tradition, and you’ve gotta do it at least once.

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We started the day with the free city-published walking tour pamphlet, only to quickly realize that in lieu of taking us on an interesting route, it was basically forcing us to stay on Royal Street and walk by all the shops. Not really recommended (but it is free!).

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Below, the Corn Stalk Hotel and its famous 165-year old cast iron fence. The apocryphal story of its origins tells of a home owner who brought his bride to live here from Iowa. Hoping to allay her homesickness, he installed this fence of corn to remind her of home.

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Of course, the truth is way more mundane: the homeowner was simply trying to one up his neighbors in decor, and purchased the fence from a catalog simply because it was the most expensive one they offered.

Strangely, the doorknob/lock is installed upside down, which local ghost tours will tell you is because of a Creole funeral rite in which you reverse your doorknobs following the death of a loved one. Can’t confirm any of this online, however.

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There are two main types of iron work: wrought or cast. Wrought-iron is forged by hand, and can be identified by variations and randomness in the patterns. These imperfections often give it a more lively appearance than cast-iron, which is formed from a mold.

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Many of the balconies are decorated with beautiful plants and gardens:

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A corner building:

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A cast-iron balcony painted white:

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This one seems to have gone a bit overboard with the foliage…

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Real? Fake? New? Old? It’s always hard to be sure when you come across ghost ads in highly-touristed sections of town:

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Awesome neon sign on the Monteleone Hotel:

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At the end of this street is Pirate Alley, though no one is exactly sure why it’s called that (prior to 1960, it was Orleans Alley).

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We had our po boy and gumbo lunch at Johnny’s, a New Orleans institution since 1950. The line of tourists snaking out the door always raises my culinary suspicions, but as always, it was damn good.

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Next up, we headed out to one of New Orleans’ above ground cemeteries, St Louis 1. While I don’t find New Orleans’ cemeteries as beautiful as, say, the southern cemeteries in Savanna, they’re certainly interesting to walk around.

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Though you’ll often hear the bodies were placed above ground due to flooding concerns, the actual reason has more to do with French and Spanish traditions. The wall of the cemetery is itself an enormous tomb (left side below), with bodies stacked three high.

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The most famous grave in St. Louis 1 is that of Marie Laveau, renowned voodoo priestess…or was she? Like pretty much every legend in New Orleans, no one seems to know for sure. In fact, there’s little evidence to suggest she even practiced magic…

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However, that hasn’t stopped hordes of tourists from leaving gifts and notes for Laveau in exchange for wishes:

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I think it’s the concrete paths that really take away from the beauty of the cemetery, though I can only imagine it’s a necessity.

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Now here’s where things get really nutty: this tomb, the latest addition to the cemetery, was purchased and built within the last few months by Nicolas Cage, and will one day be his final resting place. Yes, that Nicolas Cage.

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Meanwhile, this guy (in the hat) was offering to let people take pictures inside a “real tomb” (for an implied tip). I almost distinctly remember someone doing this the last time we were here, and decided not to pay a guy for prying into graves. Anyone know if he’s legit?

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At around 3:30, we got back in the car and headed an hour outside of town for the inimitable Dr. Wagner’s Honey Island Swamp Tours, located down a dirt road off the highway.

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Though there are tons of swamp tours in the area (many operating on the same swamp!), Dr. Wagner’s was the first, having opened in 1982. The online reviews were universally positive, so we decided to give it a try.

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We joined our group of 14 in a covered open-air boat and began motoring into the swamp.

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Our guide knew pretty much everything about the swamp, and though I’m sure he’s given this tour a zillion times, explained it all with enthusiasm and even a bit of reverence. Also, he spoke with an incredibly gravelly southern drawl, peppering his story with amusing sayings like “Time to turn on the Cajun air-conditioning” right before kicking the boat into high gear.

The swamp was absolutely beautiful.

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Any fears we had that the alligators might not show were dismissed within minutes of leaving the dock, as an enormous gator swam stealthily up to the boat in search of hot dogs and marshmallows, which our guide tossed generously.

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The gators LOVED the hot dogs…

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…leaping waaay out of the water to get at them.

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According to our guide, gators are actually shy creatures, and there had never been a recorded gator attack in the swamp. Still, when its staring up at you with its dead-black eyes, you definitely feel glad to be in the boat:

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Our tour guide led us deeper into the swamp:

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Much of the water was covered:

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Here, you can see how high the swamp has risen in the past by the water line on the trees:

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Houses like the one below were originally built for hunting and fishing:

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Then, people realized they could make do without the hunting and fishing, and just come out to drink and party, which is what they’re now known for.

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Most had to be restored after Katrina – this one is still waiting for some heavy repairs:

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We saw at least eight alligators on our tour, including this baby (who didn’t care much for marshmallows).

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I can’t recommend Dr. Wagner’s tours highly enough. Our guide was awesome, the swamp was gorgeous, and the alligators were very social. Be sure to call ahead, as tours regularly sell out.

We returned to New Orleans, ate dinner, and joined up with a late night ghost tour. Scouting NY tip: having a drink or two while you walk around makes the ghost tour experience infinitely more enjoyable.

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Our tour guide was a chipper girl in her 20’s from Connecticut, who believed firmly in ghosts and told us at least someone was bound to have a paranormal experience on her tour (later on, a group of 12 year old girls in the group tittered wildly when one proclaimed to have felt a chill). Sadly, I didn’t see any ghosts…

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…though I did see two women flashing from a balcony as we walked across Bourbon Street (which came off as somewhat pathetic considering Bourbon Street was half empty and no one was throwing beads or even paying attention – but you won’t hear me complaining!).

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We stopped midway through the tour at Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop for drinks. Lafitte’s is located in one of the oldest buildings in New Orleans, and is considered one of the oldest continually operating bars in the United States. Its also said to have once been owned by the pirate Jean Lafitte, though this is yet another New Orleans legend with zero documentation.

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On the whole, the ghost stories were a bit underwhelming – that is, until we got to the LaLaurie mansion.

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All of a sudden, the tone of the stories jumped from Edgar Allen Poe to Rob Zombie. According to legend, former resident Delphine LaLaurie tortured and killed nearly 100 black slaves behind these walls…but that was only the beginning.

When firemen broke in to put out a blaze in the kitchen, they found a scene out of a horror movie: slaves with sex organs surgically swapped, women nailed to the floor by their intestines, heads with brains stewed by sticks, buckets filled with genitalia, females splayed to resemble caterpillars, and on, and on, and on. Even the most bored group members perked up at this one.

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Of course, this is all bullshit. The earliest the LaLaurie torture stories can be traced no further back than a 1998 New Orleans ghost tour guide written by a woman who gave tours herself. Though she claimed to have uncovered the story from old newspaper reports, not a single bit of evidence has ever confirmed this.

Ready for more Nicolas Cage wackiness? He bought the place in 2007 for $3.5M, allegedly without any knowledge of its history, and was surprised to find ghost tours taking photos every night.

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These are supposedly Nicolas Cage’s Halloween decorations. The house is now for sale, following Cage’s bizarre buying spree that brought him to bankruptcy (he also purchased Anne Rice’s former house in the Garden District):

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Before leaving the next day, we bought a fantastic $10 walking tour guide of the Garden District and did a self-guided tour.

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Like the French Quarter, treasures await you at every turn through the Garden District, and photographs don’t do it justice.

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When it comes to road-tripping, I recommend taking at least one or mini-vacations along the route in a single place to break up the driving, and two nights in New Orleans is ideal for this.

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I realize that we explored the parts of the city that are almost strictly for tourists, and that a “real” New Orleans does exist outside the French Quarter and Garden District. Unfortunately, time was nipping at our ankles as always, and we had no choice but to head north…

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After all, those fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches were calling!

-SCOUT

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