Rich's #10

Yesterday we travelled from Houston to New Orleans. The major roads necessitated a drive out of and into the respective cities, but between we cycled along the coast.

We were in to a howling wind which made progress hard and slow but compared to previous days the roads were quiet and the wind, although strong was not of the blow you off your bike ilk. So I enjoyed it.

The roads were very flat with canals running along the side.

While we waited for a ferry across a river (should we have opted for a pedalo?) we chatted to some guys in a truck. Apparently there are thousands of alligators in the canals and they like lying on the road to get the heat from the Tarmac on their belly. They assured us that they'd leave us alone, but I think I would have opted to jump in the car.

Fortunate then that the gators stayed in the canals as the car got lost!

It was quite late when we arrived in New Orleans, at our hotel in the heart of the French Quarter, where it all happens. Amazingly busy for a Monday night and I was more than ready to crash when I got back to the hotel around 2 am.

I'm also glad my alcohol consumption was moderate as when Gareth returned at gone 4 am he was a bit tipsy. It's 8 in the morning and he's not stirred. I'm not sure I'm going to get much help out on the road today, but having said that the thought of drafting six inches behind Gareth's backside after a night on the beer doesn't exactly fill me with delight. I think I'll try setting the pace!

Sitting in reception this morning with a coach party. I ask the obligatory "where are you from?" "Oh, you won't know it, it's a small town near London." Turns out she's from Bromley, Kent and thought I was American. 18 years in Wales and not a hint of an accent (despite my mother's assertions to the contrary) but 2 weeks in US of A and apparently I've developed a Southern drawl!