Month: May 2024

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New Orleans to Baton Rouge the Plantations

We’d already discovered that there are about 70 plantation homes along the Louisiana Scenic route road, and a dozen that offer tours. We chose three that have different histories to Southdown Manor in Houma and learned a lot about the sugar plantations, the mansions, and the people who lived and worked there. Along the route we were very surprised to see how much water lay on either side of the roads. There were many, many, miles of swamps and effectively, unusable land.

Destrehan, the closest to New Orleans, is also the oldest plantation in the Mississippi Valley. We were greeted with a very warm and humid day and by staff and guides in traditional period costume, complete with petticoats and hoops. Wonderful when in the air conditioning of the gift shop. Not so, walking around in the heat and humidity. We were the first to arrive so had time to have a lovely chat with the guides who were very happy to pose for pictures.

The history of Destrehan begins with Jean Baptiste Honore Detrehan Sieur De Peaupre (1716-1765), an obvious Frenchman whose father was a counselor to King Louis XIV. He arrived in Louisiana and in 1745 married Catherine de Gauvry, moved into her family home and together had 7 children. After his death, Jean Baptiste’s youngest two sons moved in with their elder sister and her sugar plantation owners husband, Etienne DeBore. In 1776 Etienne bought them their own plantation with their inheritance and ten years later, the youngest, Jean Noel married Celeste Robin de Longny. Her father contracted Charles Paquet, a mulatto slave (someone with African and European ancestry) and master builder to construct a French Colonial style house which began in 1787. This would be Destrehan.

Charles Paquet

The plan of the house and the contract

After the Louisiana Purchase in 1803, and like many of the plantations, it moved from growing indigo to sugar, becoming the top sugar producing plantation in the region. As one of the wealthiest and influential plantation owners, Jean Noel was appointed to the Orleans Territorial Council, tasked with creating Louisiana’s government. They take great pride in showcasing the original document signed by Jean Noel, President Thomas Jefferson and Secretary of State James Madison (who would become the fourth US president). It’s kept in a dimmed room below the house in a climate controlled, sealed case. No photos allowed!

Sugar production was also much more labour intensive than indigo, requiring double the manpower. Destrehan’s slave population grew from 49 to 100 with the change to sugar and by 1861, managed over 200 slaves. The dwellings they called home were very much different to the opulence of the manor and several slave dwellings have been relocated from the plantation to the grounds.

These divided cabins would have housed two families with two rooms each. One as a kitchen, sitting room and bedroom and the other, a second bedroom. There was one chimney in the centre with a fireplace in each side and timber shutters covered the windows. Bedding was stuffed with the Spanish moss we’d learned about earlier and while this house displayed an original bed, because the inhabitant was capable of making it, most slaves slept on the floors and they were often dirt, not brick as this depicts.

The list on the wall details the name of every man, woman and child slave on the property, in the hope that their contribution to Louisiana’s history is forgotten.

Our guide regaled us with interesting stories about the house and its inhabitants, including a period tea box complete with a block of tea. No tea bags or even loose leaf tea here! It weighed about 1 lb. or 1/2 kilo and you broke a small piece off to steep in boiling water in a tea pot.

We learned about Marguerite, a slave who was purchased with her two children as the plantation cook and laundress and how formal and tedious the cooking and provision of meals was for the family. As is routine for this era manor, the kitchen was a separate building away from the house. Firstly, to stave off any fires destroying the house and secondly, because it was considered extremely gauche to have cooking smells wafting around the manor. Once cooked, the food was carried to the butlers pantry (a room making a resurgence today to keep the mess from cooking hidden away) in the house and kept warm over coals. Meals were traditionally many courses which only the adults eating at the dining table. The children ate in a separate room next to the butlers pantry and were then whisked away by childminding slaves.

It was Marguerite’s job to tend to the whim’s of the family. She was the chief cook and the one who was present at the dining table. She delivered the food, and cleared the table after each course. That required removing every piece of tableware, cutlery, plates, glasses etc. and removing the top tablecloth to reveal a fresh, crisp tablecloth underneath. Then the table was reset for the next course. There were numerous courses, sometimes, as many as 7 so that’s seven times this ritual was performed for every dinner. The meals were often sumptuous displays of the wealth of the household, including “meat, fish and fowl,” breads, cheese, freshly churned butter and cream, fresh vegetables and fruits picked form the kitchen garden. Imagine completing this task for breakfast, lunch and dinner, seven days a week, sometimes for many extra guests, and having to wash all of these extra table cloths and dishes ready for the following day. Not to mention, preparing and cooking the food in the first place. Marguerite, and her children remained slaves during their lives.

Our guide then took us upstairs to a loft room which shows how the house was built and explained details of its building. It measures 60 ft. x 35 ft. and is surrounded by a 12 ft. balustrade gallery. The house was completed in 1790 with a double-pitched roof and using Louisiana Cypress, which, due to its ability to survive and thrive in swampy conditions, makes it incredibly hard wearing and durable and not subject to the wood rot that infects other timbers. It is one reason why so many of these plantation homes remain in such good condition.

Our tour completed, we were free to wander around the grounds, read the information in the slave dwellings about their lives and enjoy the shade of the 200+ year old oak trees.

I couldn’t resist this little fellow, considering he posed so nicely!

Next up, a trip over the mighty Mississippi river to Laura Plantation and the story of a Louisiana Creole family.

This house and the tour are unique because Laura actually lived in the house and wrote her memoirs in her later life, entitled Memories of the Old Plantation Home & A Creole Family Album and written by Laura Locoul Gore in 1936. Of course, we are relying on her memories of events, written many decades after they occurred, but it still gives a different insight into life at this plantation, especially considering its female biases.

We were on the last tour of the day and again, were the only two, so were able to ask numerous questions. I wondered if we received more candid answers than during the Destrehan tour when we were tacked onto a bus group of about 20 people.

The 12,000 acres which comprised the Laura plantation was amassed by Guillaume Dupare by 1804 and the homestead completed in 11 months. It is raised off the ground on brick columns which created a large underground cellar.

Louisiana Cypress made the structure and it was bricked and plastered inside and stuccoed and painted outside. The house was 24,000 square feet and the separate kitchen another 2,500 ft. The house served as a business headquarters and a venue for large and lavish parties and social gatherings.

Four generations of Locoul’s lived at Laura, who was herself born on the plantation in 1861. But much of her life was spent among various other homes in New Orleans’ French Quarter. In fact, she moved away from the plantation in 1891 when she married Charles Gore, living in his home town St Louis, Missouri. It is because of the manuscript she penned, which wasn’t discovered until 1993, well after her death, that the history of the plantation is so detailed.

After Guillaume’s death in 1808, his wife Nanette Prud’homme ran the manor and the plantation and was the first of four generations of women to manage the plantation. Laura’s grandmother Elizabeth, also outlived her husband and ran the plantation for a further 47 years. She left the property to her son Emile (Laura’s father) and her daughter Aimee. She returned to France having no inclination to run the plantation and Emile renamed it after his daughter Laura. Upon her departure in 1892, it was a condition of the sale that the business remain known as the Laura Plantation.

While we visited the “big house” much of the tour revolved around the slaves and their stories, as remembered by Laura in her memoir.

The four remaining slave cabins are original and were build during the 1840s. By the civil war era, the 1860s, there were 185 slaves that lived and worked on the plantation. When the emancipation was signed in 1866, the majority of slaves remained and continued living in these cabins. Some of their descendants still lived in those cabins until 1977.

The first register of slaves was undertaken in 1808 and there are 17 names on the inventory. Some were born slaves in Louisiana but there are also 5 other African nationalities listed. The inventory provides a name, age if known, skill set and cost of purchase. Historians have pieced together the lives of some of these slaves and in conjunction with Laura’s memoir, their stories are recorded.

Betsey was 29 years old, 5′ 2 1/2″ tall and bought for $550 in 1824. She came from St. Dominigue (now Haiti) and she was a washerwoman, cook and seamstress. It’s assumed her work a a domestic was not suitable because in 1826 she was sold on to his mother-in-law, Nanette Dupare for $600 as only “fit for the field.”

Cyrus Denelin was a “good blacksmith.” Consequently, he was the most expensive slave purchased by the plantation. He was purchased in 1840 at the age of 24 for $2,000. After the civil war, Cyrus started his own successful blacksmith shop and Raymond Locoult was a witness to his marriage.

Sam O’Brien, 23 years old, and 5′ 9″ was sold to Nanette Prudhomme Duparc for $825. he spoke English and struggled on the French-speaking plantation. He escaped but was caught and branded with VDR (referring to his owner) after a poster advertising a $10 reward was published in 1824. He then remained on the plantation and was listed on subsequent inventories in 1829, 1852, 1855 and 1860, but without an occupation. Considering his worth was listed as only $300 in 1852 it is assumed he was a field or menial worker. A plantation journal of 1864 records his death of smallpox.

After three tours around very different plantation homes, we were amassing knowledge of life on the plantation for both the owners and the slaves and it was clear how very different their lives were. Although some slaves were able to manumit from slavery, their lives were manifestly different from the privileged few who owned and lived in the “big houses.”

The last antebellum plantation mansion we visited was Nottoway, an imposing Greek revival/Italian style built for John Hampton Randolph (of THE Randolph’s) in 1859. 

Today, it is a resort venue for weddings, and conferences.  It has 2 restaurants and the bedrooms in the house have had modern ensuites added and are used for accommodation.  There are extensive gardens, beautiful trees, a pool, games room, tennis courts and gym, many utilising the existing buildings.

Our tour was of the main plantation manor and again, we were the only visitors.  The land Nottoway sits on had been a tobacco plantation from 1718 operating with 17 slaves.  John Hampton Randolph arrived in Mississippi in 1820 with his family because his father was appointed as a federal judge by President Monroe.  He married Emily Jane Liddell in 1837 and together they had 11 children.  John realised how lucrative sugar had become, so to increase his wealth, in 1842 he moved his family to Louisiana, bought 1,650 acres of land that would become Nottoway and where cotton had replaced tobacco, replanted sugar cane.  He built a sugar mill in 1844 and tripled his income.  By 1854 he had acquired 7,116 acres of land and managed 176 slaves.  In 1855 he added to his holding with an additional 400 acres of Mississippi river frontage and had the house built, naming it Nottoway after the county in Virginia where he was born.

Similarly to the other manors we’d visited, cypress logs were used extensively throughout the house.  After felling we learned they were cured in the river for 6 years and then dried.  The bricks used were hand made by slaves on the property and 40 carpenters, masons and plumbers were hired.  The house was completed in 1859.  By 1860 they had also built 42 slave cabins, a bathhouse, hospital, schoolhouse, greenhouse, stable and added a steam-powered sugar mill and meeting house which was also used as a creche to mind slaves’ children while they worked.

When the American Civil War began, John’s 3 eldest sons left to fight for the Confederates and as the fighting neared Nottoway, he moved 200 slaves to Texas to grow cotton while his wife and the youngest children remained behind in the hope that this might save it from being ravaged during the war.  His plan worked, because although some of the grounds and buildings were damaged, the manor was spared.  The only damage Nottoway received was a canon ball shot that became embedded in a front pillar and remained there until 1971 when it fell out.

When the war concluded, he returned to Nottoway with most of his slaves who had few other choices for work but by 1875, with sugar cane losing value, he reduced his land holding to 800 acres.  He died at the property in 1883 and his wife Emily, sold the plantation in 1889, dividing the $50,000 received between her 9 remaining children.  She died in Baton Rouge in 1904.  The property then changed hands several times, until the most recent inhabitants, Stanford and Odessa Owen.  They resided in Nottoway from 1949 until he died in 1974.  In 1980 it was listed on the National Register of Historic Places but unable to maintain the extensive house and grounds, Odessa sold the plantation to Arlin Dease with the stipulation that she be able to reside in the house until her death.  When she died in 2003, Dease restored Nottoway then sold it to Australian health care billionaire Paul Ramsay in 1985 for $4.5 million.  It was Ramsay who spent in excess of $15 million converting it into property to the resort destination we see today.

The interior was incredibly opulent with period antique furniture and fittings.  Even the guest bedrooms had the traditional 4 poster beds.

At the conclusion of the hour-long tour, we were able to wander around the grounds at our leisure, and we didn’t see another sole.

Continuing along our roads less travelled, we followed the Mississippi river, arriving at Donaldsonville (there are a lot of towns whose names end in “ville”). Where we had an interesting walk around the town.  We learned that they were Confederates during the war and like many of the small towns we’ve visited, they are proud of their history and their town.

The church was quite beautiful. Founded in 1772, on orders by King Charles III of Spain, the first stones were laid in 1876 but it wasn’t completed for 20 years.

We wandered around the crypts and tombs in the cemetery noting that they, too were all above ground.

We had parked a distance from the main town and walked through the suburbs, new and old to reach the town centre. On the way back I couldn’t resist taking snaps of this interesting domicile.

We guessed this was their security device.

We had one last stop on our journey through Louisiana. Baton Rouge and the state capital building.

As we drove in, we passed one of the 29 locks of the upper Mississippi River, the Port Allen lock. It is the largest free-floating lock of its kind and also one of the busiest.

We drove over the Huey P. Long bridge, opened in 1935 to commemorate the Governor, who was also assassinated in the same year.

We headed for the CBD and the State Capitol Building which is situated among beautiful parklands adjacent the Mississippi River.  They also have the most adorable squirrels and this one posed every so nicely for his photo.

They also have, as we’ve discovered at each of the State Capital buildings we’ve visited, a replica Liberty bell.

The capital building is 137 meters tall with 34 stories. Two separate lifts whisk visitors up 27 floors to an observation deck with 360-degree views of the city.

We were also able to wander around and enjoy the grandeur of the halls of power, so to speak.

Including the Senate chamber that was in session but had broken for lunch.

Our last stop in Louisiana was the historic town of Natchez. Settled by the French in 1716 it is the oldest non-native settled region on the Mississippi River and where we picked up the Natchez Trace Parkway, all the way to Nashville, Tennessee.

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Antebellum Louisiana and New Orleans

We arrived at Lake Fausse Pointe State Park late afternoon and were told by the park ranger to choose any spot to park for the night. I know I’m overusing the word, but this was another surprising place. We didn’t expect every RV spot to be on a raised asphalt slab surrounded by 6 inches or more of water. The road was also raised above the water which spread out through the trees like a swamp. We weren’t inclined to venture outside because there were certainly mosquitos and other biting bugs.

The following morning was eerily foggy, warm and building up to be humid but we dressed to repel the bities, coated ourselves with a layer of Rid and headed off to do some of the hikes.

As the name suggests, the park encompasses a lake with numerous waterways. We found out later from the ranger that they’d had quite a bit of rain recently and that the park wasn’t usually surrounded by so much water at this time of year. It was “unseasonal” to repeat that word again! Consequently, most of the hiking trails were wetter than we were prepared to hike on. Not to be deterred, we walked the length of the park on the road, discovered a boardwalk that wasn’t underwater and realised that it was actually quite a large park.

It’s on 6,000 acres of Atchafalaya Basin and advertises that “fishing, boating and canoeing abound.” There were more than 45 RV sites, a number of large grassy areas for tents, and also backcountry tent sites, three glamping tents on the edge of the lake and 20 or more large log cabins set over the lake with ramps from the car parks. Add to that a playground and water play park and we could see the attraction for families. But not when it was this wet, or during summer when it gets to 115 F ( 46 C) and 95 % humidity.

Before long we saw a Danger Alligators sign and if we’d been in Australia and that said saltwater crocodiles, we would have stayed well clear of any water. However, the locals call the alligators “swamp puppies” which we believe is code for “not aggressive.” So we started keeping our eyes open.

If you forgot how humid it already was at 7.30am and how many tiny bugs were flying around us but getting deterred by our generous coating of Rid, it was actually a very beautiful place.

Eventually, we found the Lake and it was certainly much bigger than we imagined. Occasionally, there were birds chirping but mostly it was just eerily quiet. And then we spied our first alligator, just gliding along with a nose out of the water. Before long we’d seen another couple at a distance. I do love seeing critters in their natural habitat, even alligators.

Once we knew what to look for, we realised there were actually quite a few in the water, so as per usual, I took about 50 photos and a number of videos!

Then, on the return past the cabins we spied this magnificent specimen, drying out on one of the docks by the cabins. In fact, right next to the canoe shed! They might call them swamp puppies but I’m not getting in any kind of boat, much less swimming in any waterway where something this size is lurking.

However, I was emboldened by the swamp puppy tag to climb up into the canoe shed and onto the top beam to get a closer, but safer viewpoint.

Number 26 your canoe is ready.

He certainly wasn’t underfed

I know he looks fake , but I can assure you he was real! And he wasn’t sleeping either, as we found out when Peter started climbing up to my vantage point. He got back in the water at a great rate of knots!

Once he splashed back into the water, we saw another two swimming towards the dock and just hovering in the water by the cabins. We wondered if they got fish from people, even though signs say don’t feed the wildlife. Our suspicions were confirmed by the ranger who said they often have to speak to people who throw fish offcuts into the water by the cabins.

As difficult as it was to drag ourselves away, the humidity was ramping up so a shower and A/C was very appealing.

When we chose this road less travelled, we didn’t imagine it would be a single lane, gravel track between the lake on our right and a levee bank on our left. We’d come out of the park and turned right like the GPS said but after several miles of driving, the road hadn’t changed. Returning the way we’d come meant driving 17 miles back to the previous town which we were disinclined to do. And to be honest, this dirt track was smoother than a lot of the main highways we’ve driven on, so we continued.

As you can see, Lake Fausse Pointe was quite expansive.

We encountered a slight hiccup about 10 miles down the track when we came to an incredibly old and narrow, single lane bridge with road workers doing levee bank work. Initially, we thought Joey was too wide to cross the bridge, notwithstanding the rough track that was dug up from the large machinery. We would have struggled to turn around too, so I got out and walked backwards across the bridge, checking each side as Peter drove ever so slowly across. Luckily it was only a short span and we made it over with a few inches on each side spare, collectively heaving a sigh of relief.

Soon after, we reached the bitumen and arrived in Franklin and a region of Louisiana resplendent with antebellum to circa 1900s houses and fascinating history.

Sugar and steam boating created inordinate wealth for some of the Englishmen who came to this region after the Louisiana purchase of 1803. Many held prominent government and civic appointments and transacted public slave auctions on the lawns of the former court house. In May 1863, this was also the site of one of the bloodiest civil war battles where more than 300 Union soldiers lost their lives and the Confederate gunboat Diana was sunk.

Many of the towns we’ve visited in Louisiana have a rich history of opulence and status juxtaposed with squalor and suffering. A clear divide between the wealthy and the poor is blatantly evident. But every story is important for future generations to understand and acknowledge. Consequently, we’ve spent many hours walking around town streets, reading historical plaques about the towns and their peoples.

Today, Franklin is still a major port for passenger river boats like this one and transporting goods via barges. it also contains a number of heritage registered, antebellum mansions like these, still privately owned and lived in today.

We learned also that white houses were owned by Americans and coloured houses were favoured by Creoles and Cajuns.

Others have been gifted or bequeathed to the State of Louisiana and offer tours of the homes and grounds with guides who impart the history of the land and houses and the people who lived in them and worked around them.

We planned to tour several distinctly different antebellum plantation homes, along the 70 mile long Great Mississippi River Road between New Orleans and Baton Rouge. During it’s hey day there were close to 350 antebellum plantation houses from small farms to magnificent mansions and there are 12 plantation mansions that give tours. However, the first one we chose was Southdown Manor in Houma, on the way to New Orleans.

We’ve driven through many small towns so far and notice that almost all of them have pride in their towns. Even though shops are empty and boarded up and some of the houses are run down and clearly needing work, their streets are clean and very many have brightened their outlooks with murals or artwork. Houma was no different.

We walked around the town before Southdown Manor opened and learned more about the Great Arcadian Upheaval. In 1755 10,000 people were transported to the American colonies, England and France from their homes in the French L’Arcadie, later renamed Nova Scotia by the English who also seized their land, homes and possessions. Many settled in this region of Louisiana and their culture and history remains strong.

As we walked back to Southdown Manor, (named after a breed of sheep that were also farmed here) the colour really struck us. It’s so pink! It was the first question I had for our guide. We were the only ones on the tour, so there was ample opportunity to ask questions and our guide took her time showing us around.

Here are some of the interesting facts we learned:

Southdown Sugar Plantation was founded by William John Minor in 1828, whose father was the last Governor of Louisiana Territory under Spanish rule. The Manor was built in 1858. During this period he also built a sugar mill, had a brick making furnace and barrel making factory to store and ship the sugar.

86 sugar mills operated in the Houma region at the height of the sugar growing era. Imagine how many slaves must have worked in the plantation fields to grow and cut enough sugar cane!

Southdown’s walls are 12 inches thick and the ceilings 12 – 14 feet high. The house was single story until 1893 when the second story was built by William’s son Henry after his death.

The stained glass windows were designed by the Minors and made and installed by Tiffany Glass.

By 1853, 233 slaves lived in small, 2 roomed cottages and worked the sugar cane. Our guide said they preferred to call them “workers” and also allowed them to have small plots of land to grow vegetables to supplement their food and “sell” in the Minor farm shop.

4 generations of Minors managed Southdown and its plantations, revolutionising the sugar cane industry and successfully rejuvenating it after a disease decimated the sugar cane during the 1920s.

Several of the rooms were dedicated to the history of the Houmas area rather than the history of the plantation house. We were fascinated in their strong ties with Mardi Gras and the importance to Houmas of the holiday and parades.

So, why was it painted pink? Because the bricks were made and fired on the property by slaves. When fired, the clay became red so after it was built he painted it white in the American tradition. It wasn’t long before the red began to seep through and no matter how many coats it had, the red continued to seep until eventually he painted it pink.

Our next stop was New Orleans.

Call me macabre, but I like to visit old cemeteries. During our last visit in 2008 we missed going through one of their very famous, above ground cemeteries so it was top of the list this visit. In 2015 they closed their major cemeteries to tourists “due to vandalism” and now allow only guided tour visits. However, at $25 a person (there were over 20 people on our tour) and with tours from 9am – 4pm every 15 minutes, they’re also making quite a few pennies from the tours! We toured St. Louis Cemetery No 1.

Our guide was very interesting. He spoke at a million miles an hour and gave us some fascinating history about the cemetery and its inhabitants. This is the oldest cemetery in New Orleans you can visit of the 44 they have and they’re are all above ground. Apparently the water table caused any buried underground to be washed into the Mississippi River, which wasn’t ideal. He also advised us against visiting in summer, when the temperature regularly reaches 110 outside the tombs and to quote “as hot as a pizza oven inside!”

This cemetery opened in 1789, replacing the existing underground cemetery, now under the cobbled streets of the French Quarter.

There are still burials here also, as many of the crypts can be reopened to inter new people. Some of the fascinating information we were told was that Nicholas Cage built a 9 foot high white pyramid crypt and according to the guide, has no intention of being interred there, but built it as a tax write off. It has a steel frame inside and has been twice struck by lightning.

One of the most popular tombs is that of Marie Laveau who was a free woman of colour and called “the Voodoo Queen.” When she died in 1881, people were convinced she had mystical powers and believed she was immortal. Many believed they had seen her walking the streets, after her death, however it was actually her daughter, who greatly resembled her and even pretended to be her mother. Her tomb was one cited by our guide being responsible for closing the cemetery. Apparently, even in this day and age, people left offerings of flowers and beads at the tomb and also scratched X’s into the stone.

Another resident is Bernard de Marigny. He was responsible for keeping the French language alive after the Louisiana purchase by America in 1803 and helped to draft the first state constitution, after 1812. A suburb of brightly coloured houses near the French Quarter are also a legacy attributed to only selling the subdivisions of his plantation land to the French Creoles, not the Americans.

We also learned that many people can be buried in one tomb.

How do they all fit you ask?

They have a cavern underneath the tomb accessible by a hollow at the rear. Apparently, there’s a custom that one year and one day must pass between burials. If another burial is required before this time, they are interred in the wall nearby for safekeeping until the time has elapsed, then reinterred in their family tomb. Because of the heat and humidity in New Orleans, after this time everything has disintegrated into dust so when the next family member is ready, so to speak, the crypt is unsealed, a long rod is used to push the remains to the back and they fall down to the cellar. Plenty of space for the next inhabitant.

Apparently, a tomb big enough for two people will set you back about $US50,000. Some of the more elaborate and larger tombs could cost upwards of $US500,000! This is why many of the tombs are sponsored by groups, eg: The New Orleans Musicians Tomb.

Our guide regaled us with so many fascinating facts and spoke so quickly it was hard to keep up but one anecdote that stuck with me was where the saying ‘saved by the bell’ originated. Allegedly, during Yellow Fever epidemics (in 1853, more than 9,000 New Orleans inhabitants perished and in 1878 a further 4,500), if someone caught the disease they were immediately removed and buried because they believed that it was highly contagious. There was no doctor visit or autopsy, a mirror was held to their mouth and if it didn’t fog up, they were deemed deceased and immediately interred. In some cases, when the crypt was opened later, there was evidence that the person was in fact, not dead! To remedy this, a bell was placed outside the crypt and a string tied to their fingers and toes. A person walked around the tombs daily and if they heard a bell, they unsealed the crypt; they were very literally, ‘saved by the bell.’

by the time our 45 minute tour was concluding, it was warming up and becoming quite humid so we were glad we’d done the first tour of the day. Our walk into the French Quarter took us past some of the more iconic, tourist places in New Orleans, like Bourbon Street.

We didn’t venture down the street because the street cleaners were still hosing it down. Literally hosing the sidewalk! Apparently this is done every morning to clean up from the night before.

It’s very much a city that embraces its jazz roots. There are musicians or jazz bands with singers in many of the outdoor cafes and musical themes are everywhere.

We also stopped to listen to this university band that arrived by coach and spent 1/2 hour setting up in the heat, wearing black. They were very good!

The iconic horse and carriages were lined up ready for passengers but there weren’t many takers.

We wandered through the market and were reminded how popular the strings of coloured beads are. There were numerous strands on the streets, draped over things and hundreds for sale in ever gift shop.

Alligator heads in various sizes and mardi gras masks were also available everywhere.

We went into two hand made chocolate shops that made pralines, a traditional French candy, while you watched. We couldn’t resist trying a couple of chocolates.

Peter spied a rather large chocolate concoction on a stick called a Petey Popper, so of course he had to try one! It was marshmallow, covered in caramel, covered in rice crisps, covered in chocolate. Needless to say it didn’t last long!

We had fun taking pictures with some of the statues.

I donned a silly hat that made me look like a Gum Nut from May Gibbs books. For those that aren’t familiar, she wrote and illustrated iconic children’s books in Australia pre the 1920s.

We took in many of the iconic sights

Statue to Joan of Arc.

The owner of the RV camp we stayed in drew up an historical tour of one of the more traditional Creole streets in New Orleans so we spent our afternoon walking along the beautiful tree lined Esplanade Avenue, an important travelling route in the 19th century and according to the tour information, was a “millionaires row” for the Louisiana Creole community.

Some of the homes, which are mostly privately owned, were as majestic as the plantation mansions. Like these, built circa 1861

Some are smaller and quaint but display the vibrant Creole colours.

We also took a short walk around St. Louis Cemetery No. 3.

Many of the tombs had a plaque in front like the one above, which said perpetual care. This means that the owners of the tomb have paid quite a princely sum to have the tomb cared for eternally. The cemetery is then responsible for keeping it maintained.

By now we’d spent a very full day experiencing the Jazz centre of Louisiana and were ready to catch the bus back to Joey. New Orleans certainly is a fascinating city with a very unique history, but we were ready to move on and visit some of the plantation homes on our route north.

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The Gulf of Mexico and Beyond

We’ve always been fans of a pioneer village because you can gather so much history about a region in one place. Google is such a wonderful tool that we didn’t have in 2008 when we were here, so a quick Google gave us a list of interesting places to visit along our roads less travelled and that’s how we found ourselves in Gonzales Pioneer Village.

The village was tucked away down a narrow lane, then a gravel road but we were pleasantly surprised when we entered. It had been raining all morning, so the girl in the office hadn’t opened any of the buildings because she thought noone would arrive. We explained that the rain wouldn’t stop us, so we paid our entry and she opened all the buildings for us.

There were 17 heritage buildings in all, each one having been removed from another location within the Gonzales area and donated to the village during the 1980s and 90s. Consequently, the buildings are also from different eras. The Presbyterian church for example, was relocated from Hamon, 9 miles south of Gonzales and like much of the village, was used for a variety of things, including a community centre and a hay barn before deteriorating and needing propping up with timbers and then being donated to the village.

The Greek Revival Muenzler house was built in 1892 and relocated to the village in 1989. The furnishings are original and came with the house.

This camera from the late 1800s was a wonderful find and in fantastic condition.

The Gates house was built in 1856 by Samuel Hardin Gates who received a land grant in recognition of his actions during the Runaway Scrape at the Alamo in 1836. Much of the timber was replaced when it arrived at the village but it was renovated using original techniques so the timber joiners are mortise and tenon, the joints half-lap and the entire structure is held with pegs and square nails.

The Knowles Townsend log cabin was built circa 1850s and relocated from fifteen miles away in Nixon. Archaeologists are able to date the timbers used and found that most of the “cutting dates” fall between 1867 and 1869, the oldest timber used can be dated to 1691. It is surmised that Artemis Knowles built the house as a temporary structure while his actual house was under construction. It’s a “double pen, central chimney” style cabin that was unusual for south Texas.

The furniture is a collection of pieces from the same period. Apparently the children slept in the loft so they were safer from wild animals and Indians, which also explains why the steps are so steep and narrow.

There was a schoolhouse, a printing shop and a broom shop which belonged to the caretakers grandfather and contained all the tools and equipment he used to make brooms during the late 1800s. It was relocated from San Antonio. The corn used for brooms is specially grown for the purpose.

While I found the buildings interesting, the memorabilia inside them was often more interesting. For example the print shop contained an original linotype printing press which was an innovation in the late 1800s, enabling a 90 character line of type to be selected at once. Before this, each letter was selected by hand.

The schoolhouse had original desks, complete with ink wells which were the same desks I remember when I first went to school in Sydney.

The washer and wringer were hand operated. Washing was put in the tub and spun using a crank handle then each item was fed through the ringer to press the water out. My grandmother used one of these when I was little. If I could send a note back to my 3 year old self, it would be “don’t put your thumb in the wringer when grandmar is wringing the clothes!”

It took us about an hour to look through all the exhibits and we learned more about the local history. We said goodbye to their resident potbelly pig, Penny and headed off.

One thing we know Texas is famous for are their longhorn cattle and I’ve been hoping to get some photos the entire time we’ve been in the state. A short distance out of Gonzales, we finally saw some and were able to stop on the road.

They’re the most amazing cows. I can’t imagine how annoying it must be to have two feet of horn poking out either side of your head to get caught in things.

We were also well past the dry, desert-like terrain we’d become accustomed to seeing in southern Texas, passing miles of lush green pastures, waterways and sugar cane.

After Gonzales our road less travelled took us through Yoakum, Edna, Bay City and Freeport until we joined the coastal scenic road, with 45 miles to Galveston.

This road traverses a narrow land spit between the Gulf of Mexico and West Bay and like many of the regions we’ve travelled through, its was unexpected.

We had a brief stop and walk along the beach at Quintana’s Bird Sanctuary, and found they have a foolproof way of deterring people from going into the sand dunes! And I thought rattlesnakes preferred hotter, more arid regions.

We had planned to stop at Gavleston for the night but after driving the 12 miles to Galveston Island State Park and discovering they were full, we decided to take the ferry and stop on the other side.

Galveston beachside was another place that surprised us. There were many houses built on stilts, right on along the coast. Being aware that this region has suffered a number of hurricanes, we marveled at how unconcerned these people were, stilts or not, building so close to the water. We discovered the most recent hurricane to hit Galveston was in September, 2008, when we were in America last. Luckily, we were in the New York State region. It hit as a category 2 with a storm surge of 20 feet (6 meters), certainly enough to engulf many of these residences.

It’s obviously a popular seaside destination, with amusements on the jetty’s, numerous large hotels, restaurants and even show rides.

Before we decided on this route we confirmed that Joey was able to go on the ferry, and found that it was a free service. We arrived as the returning ferry was about half way across the East Galveston Bay so didn’t have long to wait. The ferry is “free-wheeling” so unlike ours that traverse the Murray River by cable, this one travels under its own steam to the other side. The water wasn’t calm and our ferry certainly rolled about a little. Our docking was also skew whiff, so the driver took a second go at lining us up before letting the ramps down. It was already 6pm when we docked and the road we’d chosen along the intercoastal waterway was almost 80 miles, with only a couple a minor towns along the way, so we parked by the ferry terminal for the night.

The following morning we took a walk to a small inland village, popular with fisherfolk who were already out in force and managed to capture some of the water birds.

Most of the drive was indispersed with seaside houses on stilts but as we drove we started to see the results of category 4 Hurricane Ida that hit this part of the coast in August, 2021, with winds of 150 mph. It was one of the most severe hurricanes to hit Louisiana.

We were also surprised to see how very close the road was to the water and how little there was between them

And this house? Enough said!

As the name implies, the intercoastal waterway traverses a number of waterways. The bridges that span them certainly don’t give you a run up before heading for the skies! They are very steep up and very steep down!

The terrain was also more reminiscent of the Texas we’d seen previously with oil wells and electricity infrastructure.

And then all of a sudden we were in Louisiana.

The first thing that struck us was the French on the sign and as we started learning about Louisiana history, we realised their French ties are still strong. The second was that once we left the coast it got decidedly warmer and more humid.

We travelled towards St Martinville, stopping at some of the smaller towns along the way to appreciate their 18th and 19th century homes.

We were also in awe of the magnificent trees growing along the streets and among the houses.

In Broussard we were introduced to Arcadian history and began to get a better understanding of the strong French influence even today. This region of Lafayette is considered “Cajun Country” a term that came from the French “le Cadiens” which was Americanised to Cajun. In the 1600s almost 18,000 French-speaking Cathlolic people settled in Acadie, now Nova Scotia, during its Spanish rule. When the region became English ruled, they refused allegiance to the British crown or the Anglican Church so in 1755, were ejected. They scattered among numerous locations, but a number made their way to Spanish ruled Louisiana and settled between 1765 and 1785 in regions along the Vermillion River.

In St Martinville, we also learned about the Native Attakapa Indian tribe who inhabited this area and were christianised and civilised by missionaries.

At the outskirts of the town we discovered the Longfellow-Evangeline State Historic site, named after the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow poem Evangeline which detailed the Acadian expulsion and relocation to Louisiana. It is dedicated to the diverse people who inhabited the region, a true melting pot of cultures, including Acadian, French, Spanish, Creole, Native Indian and African peoples who each brought their own culture and heritage to the region. French was the main language and remains very strong today.

They even had two horses and two long horned cattle.

Our next stop was the Living History Museum and Folklife Park Vermillionville, so called because it lies on the banks of the Bayou Vermillion. During the early 1800s the land was a sugar cane plantation but as the settlement grew it became the town of Lafayette. The village represents the different communities that lived in the region.

We were there on a Sunday so there were people in period costume in some of the houses who explained life at the time. A band began playing at 1pm for the afternoon and the restaurant was open, serving a buffet of local delicacies.

There were numbers of information panels throughout the houses that explained numerous things about the era, including who resided in the dwelling, how it was constructed and where, and how some of the implements were used.

For example, this is a wall panel that’s been laid bare to show its construction. The walls are a mix of Spanish moss and mud, a technique used by the Indians and called bousillage by the French.

Armand Broussard House (above) was a plantation home built circa 1790 and is an authentic French Creole style of the period. It’s one of the oldest buildings in southwest Louisiana and considered a large family home of the period.

Attakapas Chapel was Catholic and a reproduction based on two different churches in the region from the 1760s and 1770s. Enslaved people were baptised catholic by law (Noir Code) and both enslaved and free coloured people sat in different areas of the church.

The forge, also a recreation from the era, represents a blacksmiths shop with a large, open indoor space and earthen floors to dampen sparks. Blacksmiths were important members of these communities and often individual plantations had their own blacksmiths who fashioned everything from wagon wheels to tools, nails, cookware and horse tack.

Boucvalt House was a village dwelling from the late 1800s. This house is French Creole with some Victorian features, for example, there is no central hallway. It also had an authentic early gramophone.

We also had fun pulling ourselves across the lake on la petit Bayou ferry (guide rope ferry). This method was used to cross reivers and bayous before bridges were built. It was actually quite hard to pull across so I can’t imagine how tough it would be with any current or across a wider river although the guide ropes are intended to prevent it from being swept downstream.

Rope Ferry

I found the Beau Bassin House particularly interesting because the interior displays are tools of the textile trade. The loom is an original 200 year old Cajan loom, used by Arcadian women to weave wool, flax and cotton and became renowned for the intricate designs they wove.

The quilt was made in situ and by hand using a small and incredibly neat running stitch by the lovely lady in period costume, sitting at the back. It took her three years and is supported on a traditional frame from the era. We had a lovely conversation about quilting, sewing, knitting and crocheting and she told us about her grandmother who taught her to quilt.

She also explained how the moss, which hangs from almost every tree in Louisiana, was collected, washed, combed and used in pillows, quilts and stuffing for furniture.

We spent a very interesting 2 hours at Vermillionville but it was time to move on. Since leaving the regions of National Parks we’ve missed the wide open spaces and hiking so we decided to spend the night at Lake Fausse Point State Park and do some of the hikes the following morning.

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The Roads Less Travelled

In 2008 when we visited Texas we spent several days in Dallas and traversed the upper part of the state. This trip we decided to stay south, away from the major highways, and visit some of those gems that aren’t broadly promoted. Our road less travelled took us through Gage, a tiny town on Hwy 90 where we discovered this small but stunning garden.

We weren’t sure why there was a painted cow but we have seen some others along the way.

For such a small garden it was very diverse, and incredibly well kept. There were beautiful flowers in bloom, a pond with a fountain and several small courtyards to sit in.

Our next stop was Del Rio, along the Rio Grande and another hidden gem. It’s predominant claim to fame is the Laughlin Air Force Base, however we also found that Texas has a burgeoning wine industry and the oldest winery in Texas, Val Verde, is in Del Rio.

Del Rio also has a fantastic creek scape along the San Felipe Creek. There are the remnants of a past thriving water playground for swimming and boating and a greenspace area along each side.

I even managed to capture these amazing red birds and a very cute squirrel.

Continuing on Hwy 90, I was enthused to stop at Kickapoo Cavens. Not so much to visit the caverns, after having spent so much time in Carlsbad, but because it was such a cool name! Disappointingly, as a lesser known park, it was shut on the day we arrived, but I couldn’t resist taking a snap of the sign just to prove it really was a place. I’ve since discovered that it was named after the regional Kickapoo Indian tribe.

State and National parks and forests are often wonderful places to explore and we try to include them in our travels if we’re passing nearby. We were told that Austin should be on our our list of towns to visit in Texas, and to make sure we visit the ‘Hill Country.’ On the way we stumbled across South Llano River State Park and decided to stop in the campground for a night.

Situated on the South Llano River, we have Walter W. Buck Jr. to thank for donating the land unconditionally, to Texas in 1977, under the proviso that it would remain “intact, in a natural state and open to the public.” It was to be used solely for wildlife conservation and opened officially in 1990. It’s promoted as a great place for swimming, fishing, paddling and floating on the river. The ranger station even hire large inflatable tyres to float on. The day we were there was warm but according to the people who were floating, the water was chilly and not flowing enough to actually float anywhere.

It was a beautiful park that had lush green and wooded areas adjacent the river and drier desert-like terrain surrounding it. Over 250 different species of birds are found here, and it’s one of 60 International Dark Sky Parks, that minimise light pollution at night for animals and people.

We walked around the bushland and river in the afternoon, then did the perimeter rim trail the following morning. There were abundant wildflowers and one of the ranger stations had bird houses and feeders that attracted the tiniest humming birds. About the size of my thumb, with a very long slender beak for drinking flower nectar, we sat and watched them feeding one early evening but, try as I might, getting a photo was incredibly difficult. Their wings flapped so fast you could barely see them and they flitted so quickly, one second they were there and the next, they were gone but you didn’t see where they went.

Our walk the following morning took us on an 8 mile (12km) loop around the park. As soon as we started climbing up along the border and into the back country, the terrain changed from the lush green grass and cedar elm, pecan and oak trees by the river and camp ground, to dry, rocky terrain with mostly mesquite, yucca and prickly pear, that we saw so much of in the desert of Big Bend.

This park is popular with birdwatchers and there are several bird hides, but deer, jackrabbits, squirrels, foxes, rattlesnakes and armadillos are also found here. I really hoped to see an armadillo and after seeing so many signs about rattlesnakes I was also keen to see one in the wild. But an ‘Oh, look over there on that rock 20 feet away, there’s a rattlesnake,’ kind of seeing! Not a *#%$*!!! a foot in front of me on the trail that I did not see until I almost stepped on it and it did their famous, coil into a circle, rattle their tail and stand up in front ready to strike, kind of seeing! I jumped back so fast, yelling snake! Then, when I felt we were sufficiently far enough back to admire him from a distance, and I caught my breath, I took numerous photos and a video of course!

After my initial fright, this was the highlight of our visit. He certainly was a lovely, well fed snake. We didn’t spot an armadillo, which I also hoped to see but we did enjoy the park.

Our next stop was Lake Buchanan and Inks Lake State Park, another unexpected find en route. Situated in the famed Hill Country that was recommended, Lake Buchanan and Inks Lake are only an hour from Austin. Formed when the Colorado River was dammed in 1937, it provides hydroelectricity to this day, and stores water to stop the flooding issues Austin previously encountered.

Similar wildlife abounds in the area which consists of 1,200 acres, 29 miles of hiking trails and numerous opportunities for waterborne activities from fishing to canoeing, but the flora is far more diverse and lush than the desert and arid regions we’ve experienced in Texas so far.

The afternoon we arrived, we hiked around the end of Inks Lake on the Devil’s Waterhole and Devil’s Backbone Nature trails.

We marveled at the continued abundance of wildflowers and the variety of flora we saw.

The following morning, as in South Llano Park, we headed off on a longer hike to experience a broader area of the park. Our hike led us to the end of the camping area, which in itself was massive, around the other end of Inks Lake and into the Park proper, via Pecan Flats and Woodland trail, then returning via Lake trail, each of which described the areas they covered. In all we hiked 9.5miles (about 15kms) and it’s one of the most varied and enjoyable we’ve done so far. So let me regale you with pictures, rather than text that never does the visions we’ve seen justice.

Some critter cuteness to begin.

In many areas, the carpets of wildflowers were extensive, some like this and others scattered with pops of orange, white or purple.

We were very lucky to see this white-tailed deer doe. The likelihood of seeing the fauna is one of the reasons I like to hike early in the mornings. Being the first ones out on the trail, means we see wildlife before it’s retreated for the day. I heard this deer before I saw it and for such a large animal, it was incredibly well camouflaged. Blink and you’d lose it among the foliage. Luckily, it seemed as interested in me as I was taking its picture.

We arrived back at Joey after almost 3 hours of thoroughly enjoyable hiking and headed for our next stop in Texas Hill country, the German heritage town of Fredericksburg, described as having “Texas Heart, German Soul”.

The town reminded us of Solberg, the Danish village we visited in California and also Hahndorf, the German village in our Adelaide Hills. A more extensive town than both of these, it was an elective mix of German, Mexican and Texan and obviously the ‘go to destination’ for girls trips and hens parties going by the numbers of female groups, pink stretch limos and buses that we saw.

It certainly had its fair share of pubs, bars and restaurants and of course, tourist shops, many of which we ventured into. The shops that sold condiments, and there were a number, displayed very extensive collections and had tastings of all their wares. This was a great incentive to purchasing. We got to try before we bought. This is also, according to the literature, the centre of Texas wine country, with over 60 wineries and tasting rooms. We certainly drove past many miles of wineries, one after the other, along the road.

Not that we were inclined to try either of these!

Any guesses?

On the left, in between the chocolate covered melon and strawberries we have chocolate coated jalapeno chilis and on the right?

I can’t even imagine how you come up with the idea to coat crisp, smokey bacon with chocolate!

Moving right along! The shops were as varied as their wares. Some were very exclusive and expensive, others not so much, but all were interesting to wander around.

This was the most amazing chandelier!

Boots anyone?

I was so tempted! But which pair to choose? And this was only part of one of the 6 racks of shelves!

Once we’d ventured into enough shops, we visited Marktplatz, in the centre of town. The historic Vereins Kirche is in the middle of the square and is a replica of the original, built in 1846. The town embraced its German heritage during the 150 year celebrations in 1996, by renaming the Market Place Marktplatz and revamping the entire area.

It pays homage to pioneers of the community like the US 36th President Lyndon B. Johnson who grew up in the county and also past residents like Admiral Chester W. Nimitz and Jacob Broadbent, an early aviator.

A life-size bronze statue recognising the yet unbroken treaty between Fredericksburg’s founder John O. Meusebach and the Comanche Indians sits adjacent a replica wooden water wheel similar to those used for milling in the region.

The following morning we took a walk around the suburban streets in the town looking at the classic homes.

We then walked up to Cross Mountain, which was really just a hill. It was used as an Indian lookout, according to the history, because it gives a great vantage point over the surrounding area. When the early pioneers first arrived, the legend has it that they discovered a timber cross on the hill, so they named it Kreuzberg (Cross Mountain). A permanent illuminated cross was built in 1946.

Among the tourist literature we collected was a flyer for Fredericksburg Pie Company, so of course we had to stop in to sample some pie. Americans don’t do savoury pies like we do in Australia. There were no steak and mushroom or tandoori chicken pies here. There were however, 3 shelves of cream, fruit and pecan pies. We opted to try 3 different slices. A chocolate meringue, a key lime and a traditional pecan pie slice. The hardest part was choosing which slices to try.

Our drive on from Fredericksburg took us past Old Tunnel, a now disused railway tunnel that is another stopping point for the Mexican free-tailed bats we’ve been learning about.

After a short walk to see the tunnel, we continued our journey towards Austin and found another little gem of a town along the route called Dripping Springs. It wasn’t on our radar to stop but as we drove into town we passed lots and lots of people walking and cars parked every which way on the side of the road. Then we joined the traffic snarl and saw where everyone was headed. It looked like a state fair as we drove past so we made a snap decision to take a right turn and find a car park.

We walked into the grounds and found that every person within a 100 mile radius was there too! It was absolutely packed. We also discovered that it was Dripping Springs Founders Day Fair, which actually went from Friday to Sunday. By now it was 4pm on Saturday, so we figured all these people were here for the night.

We wandered down the aisles trying to get a vantage point to see what the stalls were selling eventually coming to the sideshows and rides, which were extensive and also packed with people. We discovered the usual county fair foods, but also some unique offerings to the region.

As we made our way back we discovered these little beauties.

A number of vendors were selling them by the scoop, so your serve was a massive one. Spicy crawfish we were told. Like our yabbies but a bit bigger. All the meat is in the tail, so they were a lot of hard work for not much food, hence the size of the serving. And these were very spicy we were told. I would have liked to try one but didn’t want 50 to get through.

We also learned that if you bought a giant commemorative tankard for $US24.00, you could refill it whenever you wanted and as often as you liked, with a choice of soft drinks like root beer, sweat tea or huckleberry. That explained the constant long queue.

The whole time we walked around the BBQ smells were amazing. And that’s coming from a vegetarian! The food stalls in the side show area were obviously selling their food, but there were numerous tents with huge BBQs and smokers cooking and serving BBQ meat. There were no prices and it didn’t look like people were paying. Curious, we thought. Seeing all the meat, Peter was feeling hungry too so when we found a stall with no customers and asked the question.

So, it turns out that Founders Day each year is traditionally a massive BBQ meat competition. Anyone can enter, so you could be a club or a family or a butcher that has a “secret recipe” for any kind of BBQ, or smoker.

The competitor we spoke to said there were 121 competitors this year and they were all judged on Saturday with the winners being announced on Sunday. Each competitor cooks their BBQ entry all day Friday, Saturday and Sunday and the meat is given away for free. In fact, the rules state they’re not allowed to sell anything. They can ask for a donation.

This was the happy chappy who explained the competition to us. I think Peter had three of his tortilla wraps filled with meat and they weren’t small servings! He also very proudly told us he came third overall last year.

By now it was after 5pm and people had been gorging on BBQ for two days, so the trade had slowed a little. Now we knew how it worked, Peter made his way around the stalls to try a number of offerings. There was chicken, pork, beef and sausages all with their secret cooking spices or rubs and methods of BBQing and smoking. I’m told the best was a slow cooked pulled beef. Some were served just in a small tray, some offered help yourself sauces and some included a tortilla wrap, salsa or salad.

This was certainly one of our best random finds so far.

We woke to an extremely foggy morning and a walk though Twin Lakes Park, in Austin. It was a lovely and extensive area with many miles of paved paths. We walked the length of the paved paths along Barton Creek and the Greenbelt to a large lake and dam and then looped back through some suburbs to meet the trail again.

The night before we’d had some heavy rain that lasted a number of hours and this area had also had a few days prior of rain so the creek was flowing strongly.

We walked past this railway bridge looking quite striking with its heavy timber trusses and assumed it was old and disused. No so, it seems, because on the way back a train passed over.

After Austin we hadn’t decided which way to travel. South to San Antonio then across to Houston or north through some of the smaller towns. Several people suggested we shouldn’t miss visiting the Alamo in San Antonio so south it was.

We found a very large car park by San Antonio zoo that was surrounded by playing fields and parks and about a 3.5 mile walk to the Alamo, taking in the the famous Riverwalk. So off we walked through the parks and along the Riverwalk towards San Antonio centre and the Alamo.

By now you must know I can’t resist a critter and this squirrel was so cute and photogenic and not the least bit concerned that I’d stopped to take his picture.

The park also has a trainline that travels from the zoo through the park and around the perimeter of the playing fields. On our return walk it crossed our path twice, almost full of people.

The park was very picturesque and given the early morning, there were few people about.

The Riverwalk was quite surprising, in that it is a 15 mile long canal that winds its way through San Antonio, including 5 miles through the downtown city. It’s beautifully maintained with gardens and water features along its length, ornate bridges with sculptures and apartments, shops and restaurants in the downtown area.

The history of the canal system is fascinating.  In 1921 a severe downpour flooded the San Antonio River and rose 9 feet in the streets, killing at least 50 people and encouraging ideas to mitigate future flooding.  In 1926 a bypass channel was constructed and plans for draining the river and converting it to a storm drain were put forward.

In 1929 Robert H. H. Hugman presented his plans for a bypass channel which included a small dam to check the flow, but further alterations were halted by the Depression.  By 1936, moves were afoot to beautify the river and a San Antonio River Authority was formed. 

A tax was levied to raise the $US75,000 required for the project and in 1941 the walkways, stairways, footbridge and rock walls were completed.

Alterations and improvements continued throughout the 1940s and 50s until in 1961, a company who were instrumental in designing Disneyland put forward plans to enhance the commercial potential of the Riverwalk, including retail, entertainment and restaurant precincts, sculptures and murals and in 1964 $US500,000 in improvements were approved.

Since then, it has become a world-famous venue, holding festivals, theatre and arts performances and the downtown area has numerous restaurants, bars and shops on the canal frontage. 

There are also the famous motored canalboats, each a different, vibrant colour that take tourists on tours along the canals.  Driven by suitably attired and informative skippers, they provide a commentary along the journey, interacting with patrons and vendors on the shore and regaling city and canal history.

It was a short walk from the Riverwalk to the centre of downtown via Historic Houston Street and the Alamo, which is in the centre of downtown San Antonio.  We spent 2 ½ hours taking in the historic site and learning about Texas history.  The Alamo is a sacred and revered site, like Gettysburg, or Gallipoli and a legacy for those people who fought and died for Texas.  At the completion of our visit, we had a greater understanding of how Texas became a state and a better understanding of its people. 

For example, Texas is one of the few states so far where we’ve seen many businesses and private citizens flying the State Texas flag either with the American flag or by itself.  Texans are proud to be Texan.  We understand how interconnected Texas heritage is with Spanish and Mexican history and how these cultures continue to influence much of Texas today. 

We learned about the heroes of the Alamo, names we’d heard of like David Crockett, for example.  Anyone of a certain age will remember the TV show from the 1970s where Fes Parker, wearing his animal skin coat and possum tail hat was Davy Crockett, “king of the Wild, Wild West.”  But I never realised he played a prominent role fighting at the Alamo.

So, a brief history lesson of Texas and the Alamo.  During the 1700s, both Spain and France laid claim to regions in what is now the state of Texas.  Spanish missionaries travelled throughout the region, establishing missions to convert the Pamposa’s, Coahuiltecan’s and other Indian tribes.  In 1756 a stone church was built by Indian stonemasons, and this is the famed Alamo shrine.  By the 1790s Antonio de Valero ceased to be a mission and the land was distributed to nearby Indians.

By the early 1800s, a Spanish military unit arrived in San Antonio, repaired and occupied the site, calling it Pueblo del Alamo.  During this time, Mexico began revolting against Spanish rule and in 1810 the unrest spilled into San Antonio.  Control over the Alamo varied between Spanish and Mexican rule for the following decade, until in 1820, 300 American frontier families made their way to Texas, settling in the Alamo area and becoming citizens under the Mexican constitution.  Increasing numbers of American settlers also provided an impetus for Texas to become a separate state.  However, the colonists agreed to remain loyal to Mexico, under the Turtle Bayou Resolution.  By 1835, however, disputes arose between colonists and Mexican authorities causing skirmishes, and the blockade of Mexican supply ships and troops.

On March 6, 1836, Mexican troops attacked the Alamo and killed those defending it. 

Prisoners were executed, women and children massacred, and the Mexican army pursued the retreating Texian army.  Hearing of this, settlers fled from the advancing Mexican army, and became known as the “Runaway Scrape.”

On April 21, 1836, the Texians attacked the Mexican army and according to history shouted “Remember the Alamo! Remember Goliad!”  The scene of the massacres.  The Texians defeated the Mexican army in 18 minutes and won independence for Texas from Mexico.  All Mexican forces were ordered to withdraw south of the Rio Grande but on their way the Alamo was all but destroyed.

On February 19, 1846, Texas joined the United States.  During the ensuing years the US government undertook the rebuilding of the Alamo and much of the grounds was sold to private citizens.  In 1903 the Daughters of the Republic of Texas (DRT) persuaded the state to purchase the Alamo and preserve it as a shrine to the Alamo defenders. Today, according to the literature, “the Alamo is known worldwide as a symbol of patriotism and the shrine of Texas Liberty.”

Also situated in the Alamo precinct is a museum of the Alamo and Texas Revolution which houses the preeminent collection of artifacts, including weaponry, saddles and tack, porcelain and tableware, manuscripts and books and a scale reproduction of the Alamo site which highlights how the battle transpired through illuminations and dialogue.  Most interestingly, the collection was donated to the Alamo site in 2014 by none other than rock star extraordinaire, Phil Collins!  The Phil Collins.  His introductory blurb states that he was fascinated by the adventures of Davy Crockett and the frontiersmen as a boy, and this grew into a lifelong passion.

It’s amazing how quickly the time goes when you’re engrossed in something like Alamo history, so it was early afternoon by the time we headed to the Riverwalk to find lunch.  We settled on a Mexican restaurant that was established in 1972 and clearly a talking point for the canal boat skippers as they passed us by. 

Then, realising we had only walked halfway through the downtown Riverwalk area, we continued until a T junction signaled the end of the shops and restaurants.  We retraced our steps back to Joey and after a long but very enjoyable day, it was time to find more roads less travelled.

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Where Desert Meets River

Big Bend National Park is in the Chihuahuan desert, is bordered by the Rio Grande River and covers over 1,200 miles in western Texas. The Chisos Mountains are in the centre of the the park, with the highest peak rising to 7,825 feet. Because of its varied terrain, it also has very diverse flora and fauna from cactus to cottonwoods, and more species of birds, bats, reptiles, butterflies, scorpions, and ants are found here than in any other national park.

At first we dithered about whether to drive the 240 miles from the Caverns but we heard so many favourite reports, we thought we had to see what what everyone raved about. Visiting in spring was also a bonus because so many cactus were flowering and their blooms were very unexpected. I couldn’t tell you how many photos I took because so often, flowers from the same cactus had variant coloured flowers. We were also surprised at the wildlife that thrived in the region, birds in particular.

The park is another of those chalk and cheese locations, with areas of arid desert and river habitats vying for the attention of an average 537,102 visitors per year for the last 3 years.

The day we arrived it was blowing the road runners over! The wind was so strong that at the overlook spot of the short nature hike we did from the campground, I literally had to stabilise myself next to a rock for fear of getting blown over. And we did get to see our first road runner. The real bird not Wile E. Coyote’s nemesis! They’re so much smaller than we imagined, but so speedy! It’s no wonder Wile E. never caught him.

There are 3 major regions in the park with campgrounds and trailheads for hiking. We spent 2 nights at Boquillas Canyon and 1 night at Santa Elena. Unfortunately, Joey was a few feet too long to travel the steep, windy road to Chisos Mountains.

As we found in many of the regions we’ve visited so far, the critters are incredibly varied, from mountain lions, to rattle snakes and scorpions. And they say Australia has deadly animals! To stop the larger animals from relying on or expecting food from peopled areas, parks often provide food safes, for people tenting or hiking over a few days. The rubbish bins are also latched securely.

Unfortunately, we didn’t see any bears.

Our first morning walk was to Daniels Ranch and half way along the Hot Springs trail. We saw a stunning sunrise and some of the varied terrain that Big Bend is renowned for. The ranch consists of a small adobe house, built in the early 1900s and an extensive system of ditches used to irrigate crops.

Hiking the trail over the hills to Hot Springs, it wasn’t long before the lush grass areas irrigated by the ditches gave way to rocky desert terrain. But the views from the climb were spectacular.

No matter how arid, we were still treated to vibrant colours from the flowering cacti.

Headed back to the campground at the entrance road we were treated to another sight we just couldn’t imagine. Everyone will have seen the Roadrunner and Coyote animated cartoons. We’ve joked about them on the few occasions we’ve seen a roadrunner (which, to be honest, I never thought was a real bird). I managed to sneak up on this one, which didn’t seem inclined to dart off as others have. Then, what do we see down the track a short distance? You guessed it! A coyote! I couldn’t get them in the same shot, but the bird was obviously trying not to be the coyotes breakfast.

Apparently, Wile E. Coyotes slim physique was based on Mark Twain’s description of a coyote in Roughing It, “a long, slim, sick-and-sorry looking skeleton”. The few we’ve seen looked like they were getting their fair share of roadrunner meals, but not this time.

On our drive out we saw views of these mountains in the distance from several angles and marveled at the unique cloud formations. Then we realised the clouds were hanging on the crests of the mountains and rolling off like very thick mist. Although not quite as much, the cloud still blanketed the mountain tops in the afternoon on our way back. If you look closely, you can see the shapes of the mountain tops through the cloud.

Reading through some of the literature on the park, we found that there’s a customs border post especially to allow crossings between a tiny village in Mexico called Boquillas and the park. While the river provides a natural border between the two countries for 118 miles, there are many places where the water is barely calf deep and a few feet wide, and others where it’s totally dried so it’s considered a “fluid” border. There were a couple of walks we did where we zipped across to Mexico just because we could. The fact that there is such inhospitable terrain on both sides and no major towns for many, many miles is apparently deterrent enough. So, we thought, why not take an impromptu trip across the border?

The following day, Sunday, we headed to the border crossing, passports in hand and cash in our pockets. The customs border officer was very official. He made sure everyone (there were about 10 of us at 12noon when we went) heard his customs spiel about what could and couldn’t be brought back across the border and that we all understood that the US border would shut promptly at 4pm. Apparently they don’t reopen until Wednesday, so as he put it, “have fun in Mexico for 2 days until 9am Wednesday and the office is opened again. I’m sure you could just tootle on back across, bypass the customs office and be on your way – until the next time you needed to provide your passport and they realised you hadn’t checked back in.

We’d been told there were 3 ways across the Rio Grande at the check point, wade through yourself, take a water craft across, or pay a Mexican $US10 for a return trip rowed across in a tinny. We opted for the tinny, however, aside from the very thick, gooey mud, oozing between your toes, you could easily walk across, as he did.

As you can see, there was no rowing!

When you arrive in Mexico, there are another 3 choices. The village of Boquillas is about 3/4 of a mile up a dirt road. You can ride a donkey or horse, be driven in a very suspect vehicle, or walk. We were also informed that the $US10 for the donkey or car included a “guide” for your time in the town. We opted to walk. We didn’t fancy riding a horse or donkey wearing shorts, nor did we want to have a guide. Just as well, because from the first signs of habitation to the outskirts of Boquillas was about another 3/4 of a mile.

There would have been 30 or more donkeys and a few horses saddled and tied up waiting for tourists to carry up the road.

There were several small boys trying to sell us woven bracelets for $5 each, which we politely declined and about a dozen very makeshift stalls as we wandered up the road with women selling small ‘trinkets’ as the border official called them. Very bright aprons, a few Aztec designed rugs, garishly painted broadbrimmed hats and some pottery. They also sold small, wire woven critters (scorpions, lizards, spiders, butterflies etc.), some with beads, which were actually quite clever, but at $US10 each we felt were too expensive. If we’d seen people making them or crafting some of the trinkets we would have been inclined to purchase something, but as we’d seen many of the same things in the ranger stations and the tourist shops in nearby towns, we suspected they were mass produced.

We did however, partake in lunch at the ‘family operated since 1972’ Cantina. There were 3 choices for lunch, this, rather large establishment where it sems all the tourists frequent, and 2 smaller places with limited menus. We asked for a menu at one of the small establishments and were told, “tacos with goat, very tasty. Tacos with beef, or tacos with cheese and beans”. We ventured across the street and found the Cantina very busy and clean and the menu a lot more substantial. Although probably a lot more “Americanised” we decided to err on the side of food caution!

Peter had the No 8 and I had the No 1, two of each. We were even serenaded by this fellow and his guitar, while we ate.

It was quite a large restaurant and almost all of the tables were taken, so we expect they made a tidy sum for a Monday. Interestingly, only the boys were accosting tourists to buy the bracelets, the girls and women were at their stalls barely touting for business and only the men were serving in the restaurant.

This outdoor courtyard had the most amazing mosaic floor and the courtyard looked across to the US.

In all, we spent about 2 hours on our sojourn into Mexico, enjoyed a nice lunch, were walked back across the river by our Mexican amigo and had a very short video conference with customs before being allowed back into the US.

That afternoon we drove to the Hot Springs to see where the old spa was. Since we’ve been in Big Bend we’ve seen a number of free range horses. At first we thought they were wild but after visiting Mexico and seeing how little water is in the Rio Grande, we expect they are left to graze and wander freely until someone comes to catch them.

Apparently, the Boquillas Hot Springs have been visited by people for thousands of years. Petroglyphs and some rock painting is evident on the walk to the spring and the Indians believed it was “old” or “ancient” water. It remains at 105 degrees F and contains dissolved calcium carbonate and sulphate, sodium sulfate and chloride and lithium and was revered as a health spa during the 1920s and 30s.

A store and post office was built in 1927 to cater to the miners from both sides of the river and with the increased advent of motor cars, and advertising the healing properties of the springs, an increasing number of tourists came to stay in the “spa accommodation.”

These buildings were once substantial and the surrounding area is a small oasis in the desert.

When we reached the spring there were two families with children, two couples and a single fellow, all bathing in the water. We didn’t bring bathers but were assured it was worth soaking our feet at least. It certainly was warm! The water continues to flow over the small rock wall in the river and provides a cool change for those soaking in the spring.

Our next morning dawned to an awesome sight. A small herd of the Javelinas we’d heard so much about were munching on the grass in the camping area. They’re the strangest looking critters. Like large guinea pigs, with no neck, a very chunky head and four teeny legs. The ranger told us that they’re one of the few animals that eats the prickly pear. I won’t tell you how many photos I took! And while we were enjoying watching the Javalinas, we also had a lovely chat with a Danish couple, on holidays in the area for 6 weeks.

This morning we were also relocating to Santa Elena Campsite along the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive. It lived up to its name, giving us a wonderful insight into the desert region and we feel lucky to be here during spring when the cactus are at their blooming best.

We also marveled at how majestic and rapidly changing the landscape was. Words wouldn’t do it justice so here are some of the pictures we took along the drive.

We were also surprised to find a number of abandoned ranches and dwellings along the route from the 1900s. Although the Chihuahuan Desert is one of the most diverse arid regions on the planet, it receives little more than 10 inches (25cm) of rain per year. Any form of irrigation, as we’d seen with the canal trenches that were dug, were hard fought battles against extreme temperatures and conditions and explains why few settlers were sustained long term.

Other than the windmill which is maintained by the National Parks to keep this little green oasis watered, the only evidence of the homestead built in the early 1900s here were some adobe ruins. Giving an indication of the groundwater, these cottonwood trees were a very surprising corpse of greenery in the landscape and a haven for the birdlife.

Our next stop was a 3.5 mile hike along the Upper Burro Mesa Pouroff. After a short hike along the trail, we reached a gravel creek bed which, after substantial rain, becomes a flowing watercourse and terminates after the 3.5 miles in a 100 foot waterfall at the Lower Burro Mesa Pouroff.

When we began the hike, we didn’t realise how majestic the canyon was or, how abruptly the walk concludes!

We were lucky to catch this lizard, sunning himself in the middle of the trail and showing off his beautiful colours.

The trail covers a 120 foot elevation, which meant climbing down and up several reasonably substantial rock ledges.

But the further along we hiked, the more amazing the canyon became so all the climbing and clambering was certainly worth it.

Very suddenly, without warning we came to the end of the hike and the sheer drop. You certainly needed you wits because there would be no coming back from the drop!

Having seen the canyon from the top, we had to visit the Lower Burro Mesa Pouroff so we could visualise where our hike had ended so abruptly. On the way we visited Homer Wilson Ranch, another settlement, abandoned in 1945 but incredibly well preserved.

The hike to Lower Burro Mesa Pouroff was only 1 mile long but gave us a great perspective of the canyon from below.

The spot we reached on the upper hike was in the centre of the canyon, almost at the skyline but just below the dark black shadow line.

That’s me for a little perspective of the size. I wasn’t prepared to climb any higher!

Our last stop for the day was the ranger station, which is currently temporary until the final replacements can be completed after the 2019 Castolon fire. On a day of 110F a grassfire in Mexico jumped the Rio Grande and fueled by strong winds, set fire to the Castolon Historic District, including the visitor centre. 950 acres burned and it was not completely contained for 13 days. Discussions and plans to rehabilitate the historic buildings are still ongoing.

Between 1912 and 1920 the Mexican Revolution brought uncertainty to the region and convinced the War Department to establish an army settlement. Camp Santa Helena consisted of corrals, barracks, recreation hall and officer’s quarters but their tenancy was short lived and abandoned once the uprising concluded. Although registered as historic places, the buildings were decimated in the fire with only the barracks remaining standing, albeit without its roof or internal fittings.

As we headed to the camp for the night, we witnessed the sun giving the landscape an orange glow as it set.

As our final day dawned, the surrounding wildflowers and greenery belied the fact we were in a desert. We even got a close up photo of a roadrunner.

We planned to hike the Santa Elena Canyon and complete the scenic drive out of the park. The Canyon trail was only 1.6 miles long but it wound its way along the Rio Grande, and up over the cliff 80 feet before heading back down to river level. The trail finished for us when we could no longer walk along the rivers edge without taking our shoes and socks off and walking through the water, which, considering it was barely a foot deep in most places, was certainly achievable for a reasonable distance.

We’re standing in the US on the right, and the cliff on the left is in Mexico.

I managed to sneak up on this bird, who didn’t seem the least bit concerned about our presence.

This was as far as we were prepared to go, however the Rio Grande was barely ankle deep here so we could have walked barefoot for quite a distance up the canyon.

Another spectacular vista that also confirmed how wild and unforgiving this landscape could be.

Our drive out of the park took us past more of the amazing features and landscapes in the park, but we felt we were ready for the next chapter of our trip.

We’re prone to name geological features, the cave formations for example, and these mountains are no exception. So, what do think these mountain formations are called?

I thought they looked like Batman ears, but no.

The rock formation is called Mule Ears.

Our final stop was the fossil bone exhibit.

We learned that all of the displays here were uncovered in the immediate region and in the 1960s the original archaeological discoveries were displayed, until some were stolen. These displays therefore, are all plaster casts of the originals, which are now housed in the Natural History Museum.

It’s amazing to think that this entire skeleton was uncovered here. Along with the jaw of a T Rex relative and the ancestor of modern horses.

As we head out of Big Bend National Park, we’re very glad we decided to come here. We learned a lot about the desert, the river, the people and animals that were once here and those that still call this region home. But now it’s onto our next adventure…