Cruise - January 2012 - Memphis to New Orleans

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Greetings from N.O.L.A.

We boarded the City of New Orleans train in Memphis, bound for New Orleans, about 8 a.m. this morning.   This was the first problem, since we were supposed to have departed Memphis at 6:50 a.m.  Still, our spirits were high.  The Amtrak personnel had been friendly and courteous, our wait had been pleasant, and we were excited about our getting to our eventual destination, a cruise ship to Mexico.    

My husband’s sister and  brother-in-law are with us, and we four are planning to have a terrific week.

We travelled in the coach section, which we had not done before.  The seats were comfortable, with lots of leg room, and there was plenty of overhead storage for our belongings.   The stewards were friendly, and the general atmosphere was one of excited anticipation, since many of the passengers were traveling to New Orleans to attend football games .  (The Saints were to play the Lions on Saturday night, and the LSU Tigers take on Alabama come Monday.  Judging from the color of their jerseys, most of the football fans on our train were Alabama fans.) 

There was a change of stewards at our first stop in Greeneville, Mississippi.   The pleasant-looking lady steward departed, and in her place came a handsome, well-muscled man who, evidently, had been a Marine drill sergeant in a not-so-distant life.  Soon after departing Greeneville, he made this announcement over the train speaker system:

Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please.  Welcome aboard the City of New Orleans.  We’d like to remind you that we are not here to clean up after you.  If you use the bathroom facilities, and you choose the “squat and aim” method, please use the paper seat covers provided for you.  If you cannot refrain from spraying everything in the bathroom, we would prefer that you remain in your seat and defecate on yourself so that you sit in your own feces from here to New Orleans.  Thank you very much.

OMG...What???

The Amtrak station in New Orleans is very close to the Superdome, where the football action was to begin within a couple of hours.  Already, fans were milling around outside the stadium, setting up their tailgate parties for the Saints came.  Banners declaring “Roll Tide Roll” could be seen hanging here and there in anticipation of Monday’s game.  On the platform, one Alabama fan stumbled and fell, scattering her belongings across the concrete.  Back in Memphis, my brother-in-law had struck up a conversation with this lady, having recognized her as a former schoolmate.  When he saw her fall, he stopped to help her.  She hadn’t simply tripped; she was staggering drunk.  He helped her up and helped her gather her belongings.  Meanwhile, the incident had caught the attention of a policeman standing nearby.  He and my brother-in-law helped the lady to a seat near the station entrance.  The policeman quickly assessed the problem and offered my brother-in-law two choices:  (1) take “custody” of this lady, or (2) the lady could go to jail until Wednesday.  My brother-in-law agreed to help get the lady to her hotel.   We got the lady inside the terminal, at which point she realized that she had left her purse and a tote bag aboard the train.  We wanted to go back and search the train, but the Amtrak employees would not let us, since the train had to be moved so that another could take its place on the platform.  Fortunately, just moments later, someone told us that some things had been turned in to “lost and found,” and when the lady checked, some of the items were the ones she was missing.  We helped her gather everything, then accompanied her out to the sidewalk to hail a taxi. 

With that done, it was time to get a taxi for ourselves.  A large SUV taxi pulled up, and the driver, a lady from Haiti, agreed to take us to our hotel in Gretna.  We loaded our bags and set off.  Traffic near the Superdome was a nightmare.   The driver, who spoke English with a very thick accent, misunderstood our instructions and took us to the wrong hotel, despite the fact that two of us had maps to the hotel pulled up on our cell phones.

Finally, at about 7 p.m., we arrived at the correct hotel.  We tossed our bags in our rooms and set out in search of dinner.  Another taxi ride, this time with a local driver who had a delightful “Cajun” accent.  We ate at “New Orleans Food and Spirits.”  The food was good.  The spirits were terrific!   Another taxi ride (with another Haitian driver), and we were back in our rooms, happy and full, and ready to hit the sack.