The Deep South, Yee Hah!

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Begrudgingly we left the sun of Florida and headed west to the Big Easy, New Orleans. As we drove through the district the destruction and power of Katrina was clear for all to see. Miles upon miles of abandoned and decrepitating homes lay the route into the city. However 15 months of rebuilding meant New Orleans was slowly returning to the city it once was.

On the drive into Louisiana we stopped at Slidell Swaps. Boarded a speedboat and cruised through the marshes looking for any forms of life. Being in the middle of winter the majority of swamp life was in hibernation. However Max was convinced he saw an alligator swim past the boat. But as the swamp guide didn’t see it, it was more likely to have been a large stick!! Although we didn’t see a wild gator, our tour guide, Melvin, has rescued two baby gators and had been keeping them in a hibernation tank. Elvis was a 1 year old gator that had been abandoned by its mother after Katrina. Holding the alligator we were able to feel how the alligator was an exothermic creature, its body reflecting the temperature around it. We said goodbye to Melvin and Elvis and headed into the French Quarter of New Orleans. Our hotel was beautiful, the reduction in tourism meant a few dollars could go extremely far. We ended up in a small apartment in the centre of the French Quarter next to Armstrong Park.

That evening our group took to the streets, we went for dinner at a local bar, where the portions were so big the boys were unable to eat half their meals…nightmare. However the 1-buck bears meant plenty of laughs were had.

We then headed towards downtown, a month before Mardi Gra and being a Wednesday night we were slight concerned that Bourbon Street (the party road) would be dead). However our fears didn’t materialize, we visited bars trying hurricanes’, ‘cherry bombs’ and ‘grenades’- all cocktails. We then settled on a Jazz bar, dancing and drinking the night away.

The following day was spent with groggy heads, and trying to avoid the rain whilst walking through the city. Max had received a call informing him that his new bankcard had been sent to a travel agency in the city. With our tour leaded matt, he went to find his card. Only to find the travel agency didn’t exist (it had been washed away by Katrina!!!) four hours later they returned, without the card and thoroughly pissed off.

Mike awoke the next morning, one year older, unable to speak, a blocked nose, a thumping headache and all the signs of a hardcore flue. Greeted with Mardi Gra beads from his fellow travelers he quarantined himself to the front of the mini-bus and slept for the entire 8-hour journey to Houston. To compound Mike’s misery it was the Swiss’s turn to cook! Struggling to stay awake Mike’s birthday was capped with cake and a multi-lingual rendition of happy birthday, not a birthday to remember!!

The boys awoke the following morning; Mike fully recovered from his “near death experience” and back to his sarcastic best.

Now in the heart of Texas with the city life well and truly behind us, we wound up in Big Bend National park after a 7 hour scenic drive through, well a vast open desert. Previous to this we were impressed with the great Cities that we’d experienced but with this we were blown away. Tall Grey skyscrapers turned to huge mountains decorated extensively in colour, congested roads were now transformed to elegant pathways full of shrub and diverse plant life, and the lifeless city people were replaced by an abundance of wildlife such as deer, elks and roadrunners. Staying on the wildlife theme we were camping in the dangerous heart of bear country and to be safe we had to store our food and scented toiletries in “bear-proof storage boxes”. This however lead to a running joke between the youthful, anglo-swiss-dane alliance that it was infact the bears that had “German boxes” to store and hide there toiletries from the ferocious Deutch in the group.

Something that largely excited us about the park was that it provided us with the first real opportunity to Hike and well, exercise. We were restless up to this point and so after a long, cold, sub-zero degree night in the tent, we sharply awoke at the crack of dawn to hit the trek trail. We had breakfast packed our bags with supplies and set off along a challenging desert route that included inclines, declines, loose footing paths, and terminated 4 miles at a picturesque viewpoint called “the window” this overlooked a waterfall and offered great views of the extensive dessert. However we were slightly unsatisfied with the short duration of the walk itself so decided to go alone on an extended trek deeper into the desert. We walked for a further 6 miles before3heading back to camp as hunger kicked in, but would highly recommend the walk through the beautiful landscape.

That afternoon was luxuriously spent at a hot spring located opposite Mexico, on the border separated by a six-meter river. A little drama unfolded between some local Mexicans and Americans as a shouting war across the river erupted due to the Mexicans allegedly attempted to kidnap a young US girl. The argument soon stopped as we arrived so we dived into the bliss of the hot spring and received our duly deserved relaxo time. The evening of potentially our favourite day of the trip so far was capped with an epic Texas hold’em poker game. After enjoying a delicious English cooked stir-fry- the men of the group came together in a six-way card battle. The buy-in $10 and a generous abundance of Wal-Mart Poker chips were distributed. The venue, the dark ambiance of the minibus, with a large plane of wood as a table. 5 hours of tension got everyone’s heartbeats echoing, and saw the fall of the American and European friends but lead to a well deserved all English heads-up. The chip lead favoured Mike three to one, but a combination of Mikes nerves and tactical brilliance on Max’s part (guess whose writing this bit of the blog) made Max a deserving $60 rich champion.

We hopped aboard our mini-bus and headed towards Tombstone. What should have been a 3 hour journey turned into a 3 hour epic adventure, we suffered a rear left blowout on the highway. Banking on the hard shoulder with the rain tipping down we were condemned to wait outside the mini-bus until Matt had changed the tire (due to unexpected circumstances this took over an hour).

Tombstone was a notorious Cowboy town, the sight of a number of shootings. The town had kept its Wild West theme, and because of this a Mecca for cowboy enthusiast. As we arrived late in the day, all we had time to do was setup camp, have a late lunch and head into town (one road). A lack of activity meant the only feasible option was to visit ‘Big Nose Kate’s’ the local saloon. Some quick talking meant the boys avoided being asked for I.D The group settled in enjoying beers and burgers, whilst the English two thrashed their fellow travelers and a number of locals at darts.

We left Tombstone upbeat and raring to go as the day promised a new adventure in horseback riding. First on the agenda however was a quick stop in the grand city of Tucson and its renowned desert museum. This offered a vast portrayal of the wildlife and scenery of the Senora desert. The exhibitions included a reptile house with an abundance of snakes and lizards, rock and cave displays, desert birds such as eagles, raptors, roadrunners and native parrots. This was all well received but our personal favourite section was the chance to see the larger scale of predators that ruled this habitat. Such creatures were the proud mountain lions, the great brown bears and the energetic coyote’s as well as many other mammals. The trip to the museum was impressive and furthered our growing realization that the United States isn’t just Big people in Big cities. There’s some nature here as well.

The days mood was slightly knocked back at first as the sun was hidden behind a mass curtain of grey cloud, a sight we had unfamiliarised with since departing the UK a month ago. We arrived at the “cowboy camp” which lived up to Matt’s description as a sh*t hole with no toilets or facilities and just a few run down caravans. The rain was drisaling over our heads but the moment we saw the horses and the 110-year-old owner rusty - we new it was going to be a fun stay. Seconds after stepping off the minibus we were assigned our horses for the two-hour sunset ride. Mike was put on a grand white stallion, and Max an elegant beast named Annabel (look familiar hark’s?). The ride was calm and controlled over the rocky hills that surrounded the area, but the slow pace and our competitiveness between each other slightly took over and turned into somewhat of a race between the noble steeds. As it turned out our horses seemed to have as more than a friendly grudge between one another than we ourselves did, and quite a fast bumpy dual took place at the front of the herd. The outcome was a stern word from the camp leader, which didn’t stop a final dash to the finishing post as we crossed the line side by side, although Mike argues his horse was a nose in front. The evening was spent around a campfire drinking beers and listing to the elderly owners share humorous stories but the fact that no one dared use the hole in the ground or the contaminated water meant for an early night and a quick escape in the morning.