There and Back Again: Day Three

Day Three

March 3, 2010

Austin, Texas  to  New Orleans, Lousiana

9 hours of driving time

512 miles

2 states

Day Three began with a mini, self-guided tour of Austin. We took pictures with giant guitars, shopped in a London Underground themed music store, and strolled along South Congress (SoCo) while looking for vintage cowboy boots (where we got cornered and signed up for Greenpeace).

Best quote of Austin... while walking into CVS, an older black man (possibly homeless) sees Hither and starts to hit on her before seeing me... "Nubian Princess- oo white girl!"

Basically, I loved Austin.

We begrudgingly left the city shortly after Noon, and had another full day of driving ahead of us. When Cookie told us the story of when he drove across country by himself, he said the first two days were like "yea, I can do this," but by the third it's just like "fuck"... because Day 3 means you're right in the middle. To get back or forward, it's the same distance, and you're stuck. Day 3 on Roadtrip America 1.0 was Amarillo, Texas to Gallup, New Mexico (where Rachel's car broke down), which proved to be the biggest test for all of us then. Day 3 on There and Back Again (Roadtrip America 2.0) proved to be much less stressful.

Unlike 1.0, I'd agreed wholeheartedly to split the driving time whenever Bestie wanted it, so on Day 3, she was up. Which meant I could finally relax and ease the wearing tension in my arms, back, and shoulders. And neck. And legs. And pretty much my entire body. 

When we got to Louisiana, we almost missed the sign because it had toppled over into the brush. So Bestie went and tried to fix it. And then we got caught in LA-style traffic for an hour.

We finally rolled into our New Orleans hotel (Hotel le Cirque) a little after midnight (as per our usual), and, after paying $25 to park valet instead of on the street (where we were afraid our overloaded car might be an easy picking target), we called a cab and headed down to Bourbon St. Our stop was the Tropical Isle, the home of the hand grenade, the strongest drink on Bourbon (apparently, it's equivalent to 4.5 standard drinks). And mmm were they tasty!

We took pictures with the giant smoking hand grenade, Bestie got hit on by the door guy, and we took our drinks on the streets, where we hit a handful of other bars and clubs... where I took a test tube shot out of the waitress's mouth, Bestie rode a mechanical bull, and we split a Hurricane, another New Orleans staple drink, before walking the rest of the way back to the hotel, where the alcohol decided to finally hit me once I fell asleep.