I was in New Orleans for a conference and checked off some things on my list that I always wanted to do (Preservation Hall Jazz, the World War II Museum, lunch at Cafe Amelie). Still, I found myself with an unencumbered Sunday afternoon in June, and thought to myself, "I've never seen a Cajun guy feed marshmallows to an alligator in the swamp, so maybe I should do that!" I have a special affinity for Louisianan swamps and Cajuns since that's where my father came from. This would mean I am half Cajun, obviously. (The half that likes spicy food, but not the half that is allergic to shellfish.) My father lived on the bayou not far from where this swamp tour would happen (LaFourche Parish) until he was about eight years old. He mentioned it often: pelicans and egrets, alligators and crawfish, sugar cane and molasses.
Okay, truth be told, I had no idea alligators like to eat marshmallows and that Cajuns like to toss them to alligators, but I found this out on the Swamp Tour. Our guide, Captain Reggie,
narrated a very informative (and fun) tour of the swamp. Bayous, he explained, are naturally-occurring thoroughfares through the swamp while canals are man-made ones. There is marshland in the swamp, too. So, the swamp, as they define it here, is the whole ecosystem which includes bayous, canals, and marshes.
We rode on a flat-bottomed boat almost exactly like the Salt Marsh Safari boat I'm familiar with in Cape May.
My ride
Other visitors were riding on large and small fan boats, but these things are noisy. As Captain Reggie explained, "You wouldn't learn anything."
A smaller fan boat (noisy)
A larger fan boat (noisier)
This swamp is in Jean LaFitte National Historic Park and Preserve, specifically the Barataria Preserve. We saw trees, moss, dragonflies, and yes, ALLIGATORS. Early in the ride we saw a small alligator swimming around by himself, and he came right over to the boat. Captain Reggie explained that alligators don't see the white marshmallows he tosses, but they feel the vibrations when it hits the water. Besides luring the alligators closer to us, those marshmallows allow us to see the reptile chomp down on something not alive (like a tourist).
The first reptile we encountered
We toured through some interesting heat-tolerant flora on our way through the swamp to see even more marshmallow-eating alligators. The stuff hanging from trees is sphagnum moss, and according to Captain Reggie, "Yankees actually buy that stuff." Yes, he's right, once or twice my non-Cajun Yankee side actually bought that stuff for various craft projects. It is used to stuff boat cushions, too.
Sphagnum moss hanging from tree
It looks tropical...
At one point on the tour, we passed a Cajun graveyard. One of Captain Reggie's grandmothers is in there, and he confirmed what I always suspected: when the area floods, the coffins can pop out of the ground and float around. I stopped listening at this point because I have nightmares about my long-dead ancestors floating around in their coffins during catastrophic floods. I started listening again when the Captain told us that the hill in the middle of the cemetery is an ancient Native American burial mound going back to 500AD.
At one point during our tour, Captain Reggie found a breezy spot to stop and give the boat a rest. From out of a closet that none of us had noticed, he brought out his companion, Elvis, a baby alligator. Cool enough to see one up close, but each of us got to hold it. (Kids got to wear Elvis on their heads.) I did hold Elvis, and here follows photographic proof. He squirmed a little, but more interestingly made soft little sounds almost like a dove cooing.
Margaret and Elvis (profile)
Elvis, straight-on
Finally, we saw alligators. I counted seven simultaneously swimming around our boat and grabbing whatever marshmallows they could.
See the marshmallow about to be eaten?
This was a fabulous tour in spite of the June Louisiana heat. Of course it was going to be hot, and I did the best I could dressing comfortably and sipping my water. My big worry had been mosquitoes, so I bought a yellow spiral bracelet which was supposed to form a forcefield around me unpenetrable by mosquitoes who love me. I can't tell you if the bracelet worked, but I can tell you no one else was complaining about mosquitoes.
After I was delivered back to my New Orleans hotel, I Googled Captain Reggie. He said some Disney movie character was named after him, and I was curious about that: Ray in "The Princess and the Frog"? I'm way behind on Disney movies, but I found something even more interesting. Here's Captain Reggie himself (the "Alligator Whisperer") feeding marshmallows to alligators on someone else's tour. You can hear him saying "Ici!" ('here' in French) to the reptiles. Now why didn't I take a video???
It's a strange phenomenon I experience before I leave for a trip lately: I'm looking forward to immersing myself in a place I haven't been or revisiting an old favorite, but this weird anxiety takes over. What is this pre-homesickness? It's not related to flying or solo travel. It's not related to the reason for the trip, this time a library conference. I really wanted to see San Antonio, so I pretended I wasn't pre-homesick and soldiered on, even though my airline changed my flight from a comfortable 1:30pm departure to an inhumane 6:00am.
in La Villita
What I hadn't figured was that I'd be in San Antonio early enough to enjoy a whole day there before the conference. I visited the Alamo, which to my delight was not "too small" or "no big deal" as I had been told. I liked the Alamo. The small iconic church is surrounded by gardens, the historic Long Barrack Museum, a living history encampment, and the gift shop, originally built in 1937 as a museum. There were interesting artifacts including a well and a millstone brought to San Antonio from the Canary Islands. News to me: in 1731 approximately 56 people (15 families) from the Canary Islands arrived in San Antonio. They were sent from Spain to help populate the Texas territory for that country which also controlled the Canary Islands. I noticed a street and a restaurant named for them. I have a Canary Island ancestor or two way back in my family tree, so this Texas connection has intrigued me into a new research project.
The Mill Stone from the Canary Islands
I learned all about the Alamo from the IMAX movie starring Patrick Swayze's brother, Don, offered in the adjacent modern shopping mall. The Alamo was built by the Spanish-dominated Mexicans in 1718 for Spanish missionaries and their Native American converts in what was then known as San Antonio de Valero. It was taken over by the Texans. Eventually, Mexicans independent from Spain since 1821 wanted it back. They stormed the place under the leadership of General Antonio Lopez Santa Anna. It was a bloody struggle in March 1836, brought to life vividly in letters written by Colonel William B. Travis. He was writing to Andrew Ponton and the citizens of the city of Gonzales trying to get reinforcements because he knew the Mexicans were coming:
"The enemy in large force are in sight. We want men and provisions. Send them to us. We have 150 men and are determined to defend the Alamo to the last."
Additional soldiers never came, and the Mexicans overpowered the Texans and slaughtered any survivors (including Davy Crockett) once the fighting was over. All of the bodies were burned. It is dramatic and heartbreaking when you take the time to learn about it.
The Alamo
After Texas became a republic in May 1836, the Army used the Alamo to store supplies. In 1883, Texas purchased the church and made it into a memorial to soldiers and a historic monument. My hotel was very near, so I walked around the Alamo area every day imagining that horrific battle and what the Alamo looked like before the big, modern city buildings were built. Some old buildings survive and give the impression of a movie set. In 2015, the Alamo and other missions in San Antonio were declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
The Alamo, sideways
"You're going to love the River Walk!" I heard that more than once, and I did love it. Each evening after the conference, I'd take the hotel elevator down to the very bottom floor and wander out to this abbondanza of restaurants. I ate Tex-Mex the first night, then Barbeque the second, then Italian, and then finished with Tex-Mex again. The River Walk restaurants were fun, festive, and casual. I took every meal al fresco beside the river, watching the resident ducks and the tourists on river tour-barges. My weird anxiety evaporated by the second day because this evening eating experience was consistently comfortable, not like going solo in some crowded family emporium or stuffy date-night restaurant.
I embarked on one of those river barge tours on my last afternoon, when the library conference concluded. The San Antonio River winds around the city with concrete walks on either side. These walks date back to the 1930s (but have been restored since), and some of the bridges have WPA plaques on them. This is unique San Antonio. So many of the San Antonio sites are reachable from the River Walk: the Briscoe Western Art Museum (top on my list for next time), La Villita shopping and restaurant village with its own theater,
La Villita
and even the hospital where Carol Burnett was born.
Carol Burnett was born here.
"Would you like to be serenaded?" asked the Mexican musician with the enormous guitar. Certainly I would. He asked if there was a song I'd like his trio to play. They knew no Bruce Springsteen material, so I told them to choose something. These guys who had elluded my camera for days now stood around me and my beef burrito performing "More" (the theme from Mondo Cane) from 1962. (I remember this tune from junior high school band.) I shot them repeatedly...with my camera...and tipped them heavily for the privilege. It was a thrill to be sure, and I loved that they chose a 1960s instrumental. In the evenings after dinner, I had worked on an essay about 1960s music in my hotel room. It was a perfect farewell to Texas.
My serenaders
The tune has been recorded from everyone from Frank Sinatra to Bobby Darin to Doris Day to Andrea Bocelli, but here's a 1960s instrumental version by Kai Winding:
I made no progress in figuring out why I experience that strange travel anxiety, or pre-homesickness. But I am happy to report that I enjoyed San Antonio once I got there and experienced Texan hospitality. On my last day, the travel day when both of my planes departed late, I experienced a strange and wonderful phenomenon. Both at breakfast in the hotel and at lunch in the SAT airport, I was offered a to-go cup of my beverage of choice (no charge!) by my server. This small gesture of warmth meant so much to my sense of well-being and relaxation. I sipped on my to-go soda with my book on my lap as I waited (and waited) (and waited some more) for my plane to arrive reflecting on the fine time I enjoyed in Texas. When can I go again?
