Leaving Biloxi, the plan was to drive through Louisiana and back
north into Natchez, Mississippi, roughly following the
Mississippi River. Natchez is a historic town untouched by Union
soldiers during the Civil War (due to surrender), so it has
numerous antebellum plantations and estates still in very good
condition. On the way there, we stopped in St. Francisville, LA,
near the Mississippi border, to walk around the Rosedown
Plantation. After our un-regional picnic lunch of Subway
sandwiches, we walked around the garden and grounds, skipping
the tour of the interior of the house. The outbuildings were
open to look at, including the kitchen building. In the kitchen,
a Southern boy named Brian was putting on a nice cooking
exhibition, and showed us how they used the old kitchen
implements and how the slaves would cook semi-African cuisine
for themselves (it was Black History Month).
We had a good twenty-minute chat with Brian, who is
originally from New Orleans, first about the differences between
southerners and everybody else, then about what to do in New
Orleans. Northerners, we learned, specifically New Yorkers,
don’t know how to cook. They only have two spices – salt and
ketchup – and think that gumbo is a rice dish! And they’d sooner
have a drop-down drag-out brawl with you than carry on a
conversation. Southerners, on the other hand - especially those
from New Orleans – will strike up a friendship with someone they
just got into a car wreck with. And they don’t ‘evacuate’ during
hurricanes! They throw hurricane parties, sometimes in the dark
(once the power’s out), and just get drunk while they wait it
out.
An hour later, we were checking into the Eola Hotel in
Natchez. It’s an old hotel in the middle of the historic
downtown. There was a big wedding going on there this weekend,
with a crowd of rowdy Southerners, and our room was right next
to the elevators where we could hear every word and move that
they made, and every door that they slammed, throughout the
night of the wedding. Scott’s favorite quote of the night came
at around 2 a.m., when an obscenely drunk
twenty-something-year-old came stumbling down the hall, bouncing
off the walls, slurring with heavy drawl “I look like the
redneck that I am”. Anyway, the room had a nice view over town
and Mississippi river, as we were on the 5th floor.
Most of our Natchez visit was spent wandering around looking
at the beautiful old homes. We took a really interesting tour of
the Melrose Estate, but the favorite for both of us, by far, was
Dunleith, with its gigantic white columns and huge wrap-around
porch outfitted with plenty of white wicker rocking chairs. We
tried to stay there, as it’s an inn now, but apparently you need
to reserve far in advance. Next time. There are plenty of photos
posted, as Caroline snapped away while Scott sat in his rocking
chair on the veranda. This is kind of a theme throughout our
photos of the South.
One afternoon, we went exploring the Natchez Trace, which
we’d never heard of until this trip. The Natchez Trace is an
8,000 year old trail that goes from the Mississippi River at
Natchez all the way to Nashville, Tennessee. Originally used by
Native Americans and buffalo, it became more famous in the 19th
century, when it was used by northern traders. Traders used to
come down the Mississippi on barges from Ohio, Chicago, and
other areas in the north. When they’d arrive in what used to be
a large trading center in Natchez, they’d sell all of their
goods, break down their barges and sell them as lumber, and
begin the three-month walk home via the Natchez Trace. Now
there’s a scenic drive you can take the entire length of the old
trace. We drove on it for 40 miles or so, getting off at ‘Sunken
Trace’, where the trail is at least ten feet deep due to
thousands of years of foot/hoof traffic. It’s a beautiful drive,
and would be a great place for a long bike ride.
Our favorite part about Natchez was the extremely friendly
people we encountered. We went out to Biscuits & Blues one night
right next door to our hotel – there’s a second Biscuits & Blues
in San Francisco, which we didn’t remember until people at the
bar there told us. While sitting at the bar listening to a
guitar player give us a little Kenny Rogers and some of the
omnipresent Jimmy Buffet, everyone who sat down next to us
wanted to know, “where y’all from”, and seemed genuinely
interested in chatting us up. Jolly old Charlie, who must’ve
been 80 or so, was drunkenly giving us advice on things to do in
Natchez and New Orleans. He knows everybody in town, and
everybody knows him, as was evident as he talked with every
table on their way out of the place. Then the guy on our other
side starts up, telling us how Natchez used to be much more fun,
but now the po-lice will actually bust you for drunk driving!
The nerve… they used to just give you a lift home!
Three nights in relatively sleepy Natchez and we were ready
to head back south to New Orleans, where things would be just a
bit livelier.
On the last day of our stay in Natchez, the forecast was for
rain, so we decided to drive up historic Vicksburg. This part of
our trip will only interest you if you are a Civil War buff. The
main attraction in Vicksburg, other than the beautiful view of
the Mississippi from the back porch of the very nice visitor
center, is the 16-mile drive through the Vicksburg National
Military Park. We had read good things about in a travel
magazine, so we thought we’d check it out. It was nice to see,
but the endless monuments get old really fast. At least we got
in for free with our National Parks Pass that we bought in Utah
(we’ve now visited four national parks since we got the pass)!
And it was much better than the awful shopping mall we stopped
at so we could pick up some cheap clothes rather than do
laundry. |
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