It was a great, hot, day along the Gulf coast of Alabama, Mississippi and into Louisiana. We made stops to visit the Beau Rivage Casino in Biloxi (where they unfortunately allow smoking) and some property we used to own outside Pascagoula.
We arrived in the Big Easy to a typically humid, sweltering day. Our first order of business was to try to find the neighborhood where I used to live as a child. I did find my elementary school (now a beautiful charter school) and the convent where I used to see the nuns on the way to school. The apartments we lived in have apparently been razed and replaced with nice looking single family homes. After some years in decline, it’s a nice family neighborhood once again. Now they need to repave the streets!
Late afternoon and evening were given over to simply walking around the French Quarter, eating and experiencing Bourbon Street where we were three times the age of most patrons.
I always remember the noise, dirt and smells of NO. You have alternating wafting odors of beer, fried fish, vomit, manure, horses, cigars, good food, rotting garbage, sewage and magnolias . . . . you get the idea.
And this was a quiet weeknight.
We had a little pre-dinner snack at The Red Fish Grill and tried their famous BBQ Oysters. I would describe them more like Buffalo Oysters and they were, indeed delicious! The garlic soaked crab claws were equally addictive.
Dinner was at the iconic Brennan’s, which has re-opened recently after a one-year hiatus for renovation. No escargot this time, and they have radically changed the way they prepare frog legs – what a shame. It was still a lovely evening.
After the chaos and cacophony of Bourbon Street, we retreated to the Royal Sonesta for some smooth jazz at Irwin Mayfield’s Jazz Playhouse, to end a terrific day.
Daily Trivia Question (answer next post):
Which celebrity has a home in New Orleans?
__Sandra Bullock
__John Goodman
__Nicholas Cage
Last post’s trivia answers:
What 5 flags have flown over Pensacola? Spanish, French, British, Confederate, U.S.A.
What showcase flight squadron trains here? The Blue Angels
Bay Bluffs Park, part of the Scenic Bluffs Preserve, protects the highest coastal area of Florida. Right on Florida Scenic Highway 90, along Escambia Bay.
View from the bluff.
I don’t think too many people really know much about Pensacola. I know most Floridians don’t. Even if you look it up, read reviews, ask around, you don’t come up with much. You might find out that the naval air station is big, people like to fish and it’s in the Central time zone.
I was here in 1976 with the state Bicentennial Commission when they were designating and placing a historic marker. Maybe they forgot to tell anyone.
What you don’t hear about is the beautiful historic district and the many shady town parks that have been well-preserved, protected and maintained. (One disconnect is the ultramodern, monolithic city hall, but at least it’s on the other side of town.)
The town is low-profile, views of Pensacola Bay are prominent, and the historic district offers a pleasing mix of both residential and business. The style is a hybrid, streets with Spanish names and buildings that comprise various stages of Florida Vernacular, Spanish Revival, and Victorian. Larger buildings are Spanish Baroque, Greek revival, Chicago and Gothic Revival styles. It’s a mixed bag that works quite nicely.
The view from dinner.
Pensacola is pleasant, walkable and friendly. Since we were here on a Monday, the historic tours weren’t operating, but on the plus side, Monday is 25 cent oyster night at Atlas Oyster/Fish House. So, that’s $3 for a dozen terrific, plump Louisiana Gulf oysters!
At 6:35PM the AA Blue Wahoo’s minor league baseball team (a Reds affiliate) took the field against the Mississippi Braves, in their terrific bayfront stadium. Too bad we only had one night, we would’ve loved to go.
Pensacola is out-of-the-way and hard to get to for most, but it is one of Florida’s treasures and worth a visit.
Next, headed west along the Gulf coast.
I promise not every post will have a train, or will it . . .?
The Royal Poinciana trees are starting to bloom their brilliant red flowers and that’s our signal it is time to head north.
This year, we are taking a rather circuitous route to get back to North Carolina.
It all began when my husband and I decided there were still a number of places we wanted to see in the U.S. Towns that were too remote, sites visited in childhood, city stays dominated by business agendas . . . many, many roads not traveled.
Naturally, there is no pattern to our selections, it looks like a messy toddler marked up a map of the lower 48. So we decided we’d better start driving. While I have described to curious friends some of the spots we will visit, I realized there is one clear description – we are about to embark on a trip through Tornado Alley. If you watch the news, you will realize this is not the best time of year to be doing this.
First stop, Tampa.
SF skyline.
I’ve always thought of San Francisco as one of our great US cities. In fact, it is one of our most European cities, but with added flavors that are uniquely American. Think: “turn on, tune in, drop out”, competitive yoga, gay pride, Asian fusion, and “Full House”.
Having visited in the past, we could skip some of the requisite activities like cable car rides, Alcatraz, the “Painted Ladies” and America’s most crooked street. Instead, we decided to check out the Mission District neighborhood, which is in major transition and considered an up-and-coming, yet still alternative area.
Since it was another sunny, beautiful (and actually quite hot) day, we used one of the Hop-On buses and Uber to get around and quickly check out some of the city’s progress.
The Mission District was a big disappointment. It is indeed changing. There are lots of small restaurants, lots of construction and unusual shops. The restaurants did not entice us, the shops skewed young and the crowds were certainly eclectic. Some individuals were downright unsavory and we decided to head off to Fisherman’s Wharf to cool off closer to the water, and have a bite in a more scenic (if not gourmet), setting.
As the morning unfolded, I had several updated requirements: buy a lightweight top, change tops, find a decent bathroom, and consume a large Diet Coke with lots of ice. These things were quickly accomplished as soon as we hit the tourist area by the waterfront.
After lunch, we took the bus over the Golden Gate Bridge. The guide was a real character and gave a colorful and interesting narrative packed with local anecdotes. I was proud of myself for sitting on the top of an open double-decker bus going over the bridge – it was terrifying.
Dungeness Crab at R & G.
In any case, we’ve eaten some fine meals here – from the iconic Tadich Grill to incredible Chinese-style Dungeness crab at R & G, breakfast at Sears Fine Food (best bacon ever) and Tyler Florence’s The Wayfair Tavern.
Since we are staying at The Fairmont along with the PGA players, we’ve smiled at Jordan Spieth (this year’s Master’s winner, for my non-golfers readers) and seen Matt Kuchar.
Part of Prime Minister Abe’s entourage entering the Fairmont with police and Secret Service escort.
Our room has a great view of much of the city and it proved to be a great vantage point for watching dozens of police, motorcycle officers, secret service and numerous black cars and vans, blockade the entire area and secure the hotel for the Prime Minister Abe of Japan. It was great entertainment, PM Abe is here about the bullet train.
On our final afternoon, we had some typical local weather – the temps dropped rapidly, the fog rolled in and the Golden Gate Bridge faded from site.
It must be time to head home.
The Fairmont, holding court at the top of Nob Hill.
Transamerica Pyramid.
Pier 39.
View from the Embarcadero.
A shop in The Haight.
