Off we set, south on a wide highway that gradually narrowed. Three lanes became two and two became one. The winding road started to resemble more of rural England or France. The difference was that despite looking like we were surrounded by fields we passed a coastguard station. In a large shed was a giant ship where a combine harvester should have been.
In fact soon we were running parallel to the water and passing all manner of boats. The yards we passed had oversized machines designed for serious, heavy lifting.
The final section of road is a toll road. It begins with a monumental bridge that sweeps you over the water and you arrive at a narrow strip of land that looks barely wide enough for the RV. The Louisiana 1 continued on to our final destination: the Grand Isle.
We were staying in a state park at the end of the island. The campground was in easy walking distance to the beach but initial impressions were disappointing. Far from Florida's white Gulf sands this beach was covered in seaweed and we nearly became stuck in it as we waded out. The water was beautifully warm but murky and at no point could you see the bottom. It was scorching hot and the campground was seemingly never quiet because of constant mowing of the lawns.
I began to be concerned that this was a poor choice for our stay. However, it definitely got better. For one thing the bugs were bearable and at night the temperature became very pleasant. In the morning we took the scooters to the fishing pier and watched the fish - huge clouds of small fish and plenty of larger fish were clearly visible.
The key though was our neighbors. The site next to us did not bode well because three guys set up a tent with lots of beer. They were, and I don't quite know how else to say it, rednecks. Their loud conversations and fights were barely comprehensible but at least they fall out and leave the site for a bit.
However, the magic started when Hatty spotted the neighbors across from us. They had an eight year boy, Jake, and a three year old girl, Jessie. This made the place because they became the best of friends and we could relax,
In fact though it was got the sea breeze was definitely there and we could relax. I am always a bit nervous of meeting other people, particularly from red states but there was no avoiding it. Hatty tells everyone, proudly, about us so there is no need for introductions.
One afternoon I sat on the beach with Jake and Jesse's mom and grandmother. They were a little curious because Hatty had told them she was Californian and lived in New York - all true but of course her accent doesn't tie with that yet. So I shared our story and learned about them. They were from a small town between New Orleans and Baton Rouge. She used to work in HR for a local bank but gave it up to follow her passion and had become a music teacher. Her husband she confided was not a traveller but she wanted to visit more places. They were going to Canada and she hoped this would be a success. Hatty had told them we live in Times Square - she does this I think when she senses they have no clue about the city and where the Upper West Side might be (I'm pretty sure she tries that first).
Later, when it was just the husband and me on the beach we didn't talk much. I was desperately trying to think of some conversation but he came up with a good one first: the RVs of course. Their immaculate RV looked great but he was keen to trade it in for a diesel pusher if they are travel far (I think the furthest he has been is Florida - they were on their way home from two weeks in Orlando). So we talked about gas prices, prevalence of diesel cars in Europe and RV stuff.
All our meals in the evening were cooked outside and the kids' gang grew with new arrivals. Hatty started using her bike for the first time. She is still too nervous to go on the electric scooter herself but Jake was zipping around on it.
We were treated to a thunder and lightning show every night. This picture is taken late at night but the lightning has provided the natural flash:
A fraction of a second later it looked like this:
So it wasn't the most beautiful beach in the world but it was such an enjoyable stay because everyone was happy. It rained heavily and our redneck neighbors gave up and left but so sadly did we. Hatty was very reluctant to leave the friends she made on the last morning - there were several trailers of people who knew each other and dozens of kids.
As a coda to the story of the Grand Isle, it's worth mentioning that despite its remoteness it has an astonishing supermarket cum hardware store. It doesn't feel so remote because of you can't find it there you probably can't find it in LA.
We retraced our steps to New Orleans for a night in the campground and to use its pool. We could enjoy again the delights of the local diner!
I flew out of MSY the next day while J and Hatty began the push into Texas.
