The morning after the night before brought both headaches and a vague recollection that we had been invited to meet Captain Wheeler at the control station that organises the maritime traffic on the Mississippi river.
A couple of breakfasts and nurofen later we headed down to the river and found the good Cpt. Through a combination of GPS, cameras on bridges and blind luck he steers some massive ships through some pretty narrow bridges. They didnt seem to be any real chance of an imminent crash so we soon got bored and left.
Our destination for the day was New Orleans in Louisana. A city steeped in old money (from questionable industries) and the destination of choice for stag weekends and care in the community day trips.
After a quick cultural (!) tour of the old part of the city and the part which Hurricane Katrina devasted a few years back, we headed to the aptly named Bourbon Street.
We had a few drinks alongside the weirdest collection of people I have ever set eyes on. The entire street smelled of a conbination of body odour and sick. It does wonders to quench the appetite and resulted in us having the smallest dinner yet (albeit it still included melted cheese). If they could bottle that smell, i reckon it would take the diet market by storm – you would never want to eat again.