Following a sadly julep-free breakfast your intrepid reporters set off through cajun country, in search of airboats and alligators.
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| Mission Accomplished |
Sterling Archer famously described riding in airboat as "what having sex with me must feel like" and, after an hour of whipping through the swamps at high speed, we could only agree. Those fans generate a surprising amount of forward momentum and can completely ignore a carpet of weeds and moss than stops just short of actual dry land. There are the expected, but still impressive, gators, and unexpected wombat-sized swamp rats. (Awful American) beers were consumed and a bald eagle, symbol of American majesty, soared gracefully above, looking for a giant rat to eat...
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| This boat is travelling in this direction at approximately 60mph |
Long story short, airboating is awesome and you should try it out as soon humanly possible. Somewhat less impressive: The Mississippi gulf coast, which is the sort of place that lets Brighton residents feel superior about the quality of their beach. We made a beeline for the border, stopping only for an oversize bourbon at a terrifying cirrhosis-factory of a strip mall bar, and to admire the stars and bars of the state flag.
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| I'd probably cling to the past as well... |
There are not many places from which entering Alabama feels like a relative return to culture and sophistication, so it was perhaps Mobile's good fortune to be located so close to the awful, awful Mississippi casino strip, where the gamblers lose simply showing up. But, even if it was benefiting from the soft bigotry of low country expectations, we rather liked Mobile, with its interesting mix of architecture and christianised-New Orleans feel. The "Mexican" food was about as good as you would expect, but the beers were cold, the people friendly and the incongruous metal concert pleasingly raucous.
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| Even the pawn shops are pretty |
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