Sunday, May 2, 2010

Y'all 'r not from 'round here, are ya?


Arriving in the Gulfport/Biloxi International Airport to a smooth-as-silk landing, I was a relieved camper. The weather reports for the area were not promising and the skies were unfriendly but our crew managed to stick a perfect landing... Always a good thing to have an equal number of landings as take-offs, many pilots have told me. It was still overcast and drizzling when we arrived but that could not dampen our spirits and they were lifted even further as we listened to the melodic drawl of everyone around us.


I love a southern accent. It makes me want to swoosh around in a big crinoline talking about iced tea and charming men. Anyway, we gathered our luggage, collected our rental car (the little red wagon as we affectionately referred to it) and then noticed something that gave us pause at the moment and another memorable moment in the adventure later on... There was no plate on the little red wagon, only a card that said Tag Applied For. Hmmm... What do you suppose that means? Now a more cautious person (or wiser, perhaps) would have marched back into the rental office and asked what it meant and if it would cause any problems down the road.

Not us. We were tired, we were anxious to get to our condo and we were throwing caution to the wind on this trip (in a very conservative way though, I have to say... we're not Thelma and Louis here).

We started the drive from Gulfport (the actual location of the Gulfport/Biloxi International Airport), through Biloxi, Ocean Springs to finally arrive in Gautier Mississippi. As far as I can tell, Gautier Mississippi is famous for its location on the Pascagoula River (or the Singing River as the locals call it, from either the sound the bees make on late summer evenings or the calls of the extinct Pascagoula Tribe Indians, depending on who you believe). It is a small town, population of about 18,000 and it immediately reminded me of the small town I grew up in, Woodstock Ontario. Why, you might ask, did we decide to stay in Gautier? Dave is a member of a travel club where you can rent condos anywhere in the world... This was the close to New Orleans but still centrally located on the Gulf and we thought, a great home base for the adventure. We were right on that one.

We finally pulled into our home-away-from-home at about eight at night, after stopping off at the local grocery store to grab the essentials.

US Travel Trip #2

Southern grocery stores have all manner of deep fried or pickled products

Back home, I do my best to follow the advice of dietary experts and "shop the outside isles of the grocery store... fresh produce, fresh dairy and fresh meats/seafood." I do venture down the forbidden middle isles of course, that's where all the cleaning products, sugar, flour, cereal, crackers & piddly stuff like that can be found after all. But I do try to keep it to the outside.

At the local Gautier grocery store, there was a produce section, about one third the size of what I'm used to back home but it was there. There was okra. I don't know what okra is or how to cook it but it was neat to find it.

I didn't buy the okra.

As we strolled the outside isles, the rest of the selection was fully processed, packaged and chemical-injected selections of meat and cheese. We did find some burgers and chicken and that was ok because we weren't planning on cooking at home all that much.

We decided to pass on the pickled pigs feet, pickled eggs, pickled ham hocks and "cracklin" which is delectably described on the label as "pig fat with attached skin." Mmmm.

Often, instead of a full meal I like to just nibble on cheese, crackers, maybe a nice chickpea dip and veggies. It's light and fills the void and can be pulled together in a matter of moments which at the end of a busy, long day is a blessing. I know it's probably not great when it comes to the nutritional value or fancy-shmancy departments, but I never claimed to be an epicurean... I just want to be one some day.

So, off we strolled to the "deli" department in search of some brie. I could find none in the refrigerated case amongst the pickled everything-under-the-sun, macaroni salad, potato salad and fried chicken so I decided to ask the young gal behind the counter. "Brie? Wha's that?" she responded. I explained as best I could (I always love the challenge of describing something you are completely familiar with to someone who has never heard of or seen it... it's not as easy as it seems at first thought and it's always a fun exchange).

"Um... no, I don't think we have any of that here. Where y'all from? You're not from 'round here are y'all?" I told her we were visiting from near Toronto Canada and her response was simple.

"Why?" I explained as much as I could of our unplanned trip and why we were in "these parts" and she smiled and said "I knew y'all wasn't from 'round here... y'all 'r dressed way too nice. Are y'all headin' to a special dinner or somethin'?"

We chatted for a while and I left feeling like I had made my first southern friend. She was sweet and charming and in her last year of high school and had no idea of how wonderful she was. These were traits that proved to be pretty common amongst the people we were lucky to meet along our journey (well, except the high school part).

Mark Twain was right.... Southerners really do speak music.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

The adventure begins...


Early on a Friday morning (well, not that early, I'm used to getting up at 6-ish after all) two excited travelers gathered their bags from their "right across from the airport" hotel room and began the adventure they had planned and not planned, scheduled and left open to chance. We had decided to do lots but leave lots of flexibility to jump on opportunity, take chance out for a ride if the moment presented itself.


Without a doubt, we had solid on the agenda visiting New Orleans Heritage & Jazz Festival (or JazzFest as just about everyone we ever talked to called it), treasure hunting for a vintage Cadillac convertible and enjoying all that Southern cuisine has to offer. Less certain but certainly on the "would like to-do list" was exploring the Gulf Coast countryside, visiting some of the historic sites in the area and maybe, if chance works out and the stars are aligned, drive that newly acquired Cadillac convertible to the Kentucky Derby on the way home.

Well, since I am writing this as I watch the Run for the Roses from my home office, the Caddy/Derby dream did not materialize but I can't say I have an ounce of regret, disappointment or melancholy.

It was an amazing trip, largely for one reason. The people of our host states rose up to the legend of Southern Hospitality in a way that exceeded our expectations and gave me much to think about in regards to facing challenges with grace, kindness, hope and faith.

In stark contrast, as we headed down to the main lobby of our over-night host hotel in lovely Buffalo NY (hey, I'm trying), we were faced with a woman spending half her time chastising her active but sweet-as-they-come little boy and the other half filling and re-filling her plate with the slim pickings this "complimentary breakfast buffet" had to offer (and trust me, it wasn't much). There wasn't enough bad hotel coffee to make this experience palatable in any way at all. As we collectively departed the lobby to board the van to shuttle us off to the airport, she manage to completely knock the lad right off his feet (which flew up over his head as he fell) with the van door as she swung it open to get in. I wanted to scoop him up and tell him that he wasn't invisible or unwanted or bad or trouble or anything less than a fantastic little package of all good things to come. Give me strength.

Anyway, we arrived at the airport, boarded our flight, flew, arrived, rested, boarded our second flight, flew and arrived again. In the middle, in lovely Atlanta GA (really, I am trying) we found a restaurant to grab our lunch prior to flight number two. Since we were flying in coach (or peasant class as I like to call it) our only source of sustenance was the teeny-tiny pack of peanuts and a diet coke (or 7UP as Dave would order). Not what I would call filling. So, Chili's it was.

US Travel Tip #1...

Order one entry and split it between two.

I had ordered what I thought would be a sensible, light salad and Dave ordered what he thought would be a small appetizer wrap-thing (or something like that to be specific). What arrived was enough food to get me through what I would normally eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner in one day. What on earth is going on??? We were wondering the night before when we arrived in Buffalo and went out to grab, what else would you have in Buffalo but authentic Buffalo wings for a late dinner. Each of us ordered one serving which after we were done, half still remained on our plates. "No thank you, we would not like to take it to go." Can you imagine what the hotel room would have smelled like in the morning if we had? But this "lunch" which turned out to be equal to any dinner I've ever served for any major holiday (ok, I might be exaggerating just a bit with this one but you get my point) rendered me twice bitten. As we sat at our table and looked with regret at the heap of food that remained on our plates (and this was after the languished pleads of "no, you really have to help me eat this... I can't possibly") we agreed that for the remainder of our trip we would order one main course to split and decide from there if we wanted anything else. A plan that served us well as the trip carried on...

As we arrived at the Gulfport/Biloxi airport late in the day we faced clouds, a drizzle of rain and a not-too-promising outlook for the Saturday ahead of us.

But this is vacation... you never know what's just around the corner.