Coffee etc. is sourced in Natchez central then we sally forth across town to do a quick tour of Longwood House, one of the grander antebellum piles for which the place is so famed. It is certainly quite striking, a massive five-storey octagon with a central Byzantine dome balanced on top – and it would have been doubly impressive had the plantation-owning son-of-a-bitch who built the place not gone bust during the Civil War.

There is something rather satisfying about the thought of an impoverished slave-owner having to live in his own basement (the only portion of the house successfully finished). There he sits, cursing the ‘damn Yankees’ (but not our damn Yankee of course) for robbing him of his ill-gotten wealth, struggling to feed his eight racist little kiddies, contracting ‘the consumption’ etc. etc.

Gay, our elderly tour-guide, seems less pleased with the whole outcome, lamenting the lost prosperity of Mississippi rather than celebrating freedoms won and cruel injustice defeated. But she can, as we say in Essex, ‘go do one’.

*

The Big Man, Silver and I drive in rotation during our final journey in the beast, and I hand over the reins to Silver in Baton Rouge, LA. Whilst there we purchase ourselves some very tasty local cuisine at ‘Poor Boy Lloyd’s Seafood Restaurant’ – which, coincidentally, is a favourite of one Barry O’Bama. The 44th President of the United States favours fried oyster po’boys, just in case you were wondering. Andthesea and The Eagle try some alligator. It gets mixed reviews.

We take a bit of a detour post-Baton Rouge in order to cross the mammoth Pontchartrain Causeway into New Orleans – the longest continuous bridge on the planet at 25 miles plus.

…

It’s a big bridge.

..

There’s no denying it.

*

Finally, New Orleans. Our very final destination, reached at last. At some points during the trip I didn’t think we’d make it. I certainly expected The Yankee to meet his maker along the way…I guess I owe The Eagle five bucks..

We find our hostel ‘Atlas House’ in the Garden District just west of the city centre and drop off our kit. Silver and I then go to hand over the Suburban, but the car rental folks have seemingly knocked it on the head for the evening. Being well brought up young gentlemen, we choose to abandon the vehicle there and wash our hands of it until tomorrow at the earliest. We have more important matters to attend to..that is to say, drinking.

We therefore wolf down a quick pizza or three back at the hostel and get ready to hit the town. Andthesea insists on playing the guitar. We recognise very few of his tunes. Sarah, a hostel employee, is keen to come along too, and she shows us a few choice spots on Frenchmen Street with decent live music and readily available beverages.

I must confess, the rest is a bit of a blur..I think some of us made it to the infamous Bourbon Street..though, Your Honour, I am a most unreliable witness…I think various hard liquors may have been involved.

So a good and grand start then, let’s see what tomorrow will bring.