Waterpark Capital of the World

Feeding a giraffe at Timbavati Wildlife Park

A typical vacation will come around when you least expect it.  You plan, you talk, you think think think and, just when you say to yourself, 'that's months from now' it grabs your ankles and shakes you upside-down stealing your change.  It's the American way -- living from one vacation to the next and saving the dimes and nickels for that upcoming hoorah lit up in a multi-day green on a personal Google calendar.  Warn the coworkers, the boss, and set an auto-response in the email.  You're out, and the choir is on call.

Wisconsin Dells, it's our midwestern haven full of slow-moving tourists.  A trap set for the sticky sun-kissed families excited for the getaway, and thrilled that there are options for those not prepared for Disney World, financially or nerve-relatedly.  Friends are the best part about vacation.  If you aren't merged in a compatible crowd then vacation will often feel like you are skiing through sludge.  For this vacay, Adam and I tagged alongside two other couples for the weekend in Wisconsin Dells -- Waterpark Capital of the World.  Rachel and Nate planned this trip for celebrating Rachel's 27th birthday -- she's always loved the Dells.  Their friends, Brittany and Nick, had been invited.  Goofy buncha people.  Definitely know how to have a good time with each other.  They are close  ...butt-grabbingly so...

We, of course, eat.  Consume.  Vacation is a time of easing the boundaries, where once there were electric fences and a mine field temporarily becomes tenderly plowed and planted.  This is most evident in food choices, type and quantity [I slowly chewed the head of a Swedish Fish as my hand whimsically danced around the perimeter of a Doritos Jalepeno-flavored chip.  Dangerous food combinations later neutralized by two 1am fruit flavored Tums.]  Someone suggested an underwear party.  Someone laughed.  We leave and hit up a second winery before skipping to a tattoo shop.  Rachel is eager to get some permanent paint in the shape of a rose.  Could I be that bold to get one with her?  Should I have made this decision at the conception of a Dells trip? -- I should have made that decision at the conception of a Dells trip.  I should have known, Rachel, by our third experience getting tattoos at random times.   I should have known.

Three couples embarked nauseously to a summer Saturday at Noah's Ark, where all $20 preferred parking is taken, but the Rattl'r squeezed into it's $15 out-in-the-sticks parking pushing over just one blue recycling barrel.  [Just the one though, we good.]  Kendricks' "King Kunta" played loudly from the bass amp in the center of the vehicle -- Adam braked and we unloaded into the hot sun.  It's ironic how one could so thirsty in a place with seemingly endless water.  And it's strange how our Wisconsin-white skin will deepen into a radiated vermillion even after four coats of SPF 50.  And it's silly that I can run 5 miles every day, but I climb a small tower of stairs to the top of an aqua-coaster and my lungs desperately heave around the air.  Water rides are fun, and gimmicky, and takes you to a state of child-like naivety where you see the world as you used to.  I imagined the Big Kahuna was the ocean, and we were all survivors from a ship that sank, waiting for the rescue crew.  The Black Anaconda became real, and I was being guzzled into the dark mouth of a monster -- though I cut open the belly of the beast and survived our encounter.  Others enjoying the park turned into the unknowing victims of the end-of-the-world.  My world.  They wouldn't survive.

That evening we went downtown to enjoy the nightlife.  Downtown, there seemed to be lines of drinking bachelors and bachelorettes itching for the opportunity to prove they were still sexy, desirable, and had killer dance moves.  I understood completely.  What's better: pining for that gaze from good-looking individual, or busting out a secret stash of dances without regard to persons? ...Okay, sure, dancing, but that's what we had Adam for.  (Who else could have showed up Ice Cube himself?  Fine, not really thee Cube -- his doppleganger.)

The gang needed breakfast the next morning, and we headed to Mr. Pancake to wait.  I don't care if you don't eat breakfast, I don't, but nothing quite beats the smell of the morning-time food.  Not to mention the darling coloring placements where I used waxy crayons to form a primary-colored happy-world.  Snake-bellied, the crew wanted to start wrapping up the trip.  So, after breakfast we parted and Adam and I took the Rattl'r to Timbavati Wildlife Park right on the main strip in town.  It was so hot -- over 90 degrees, I'd say.  But there is just something about animals that is magnetic for us.  We spent hours viewing and talking to the animals.  We fed the giraffes.  Adam held the hand of a monkey and we both gave a thoughtfully satisfying scratch to the head of an emu.  [*sigh* If heaven were on earth...]

And that's where it really ended.  We, of course, trekked northwest towards the familiar 'home,' but the excitement lingered in the air, mixed with the anxiety that awaited us as we would fit into the old routine.  Reminders came to me slowly of old rituals that defined us as contributing humans of our Eau Claire populous.  Monday, I clean.  Tuesday, I work.  But, in between the days, I dream.  I dream of real life and the list of work projects I have waiting for me.  It quickly fades, and I dream of flying into the warm oranges of the sunset.  It then morphs into the Big Kahuna -- it is bigger, like an ocean -- that eventually dissolves into a bluish-black.

Our NOLA Getaway

It has been a wonderful seven days in the New Orleans playground!  The lights, smells, creole cuisine, cultural diversity, and old buildings displaying the character of the city, you can't ever ignore the innately exciting place.  One thing I learned: when you think Bourbon Street is the answer, it probably is Frenchman.

Neon signs line down Bourbon Street on a Wednesday

The first day of our travel, Adam and I were picked up by the wonderfully reliable Mom.  We took her Honda 1.5 hours to the MSP airport in Minneapolis.

Dealing with anxiety can be tough.  We left our home and I immediately felt carsick.  I am fortunate to have an understanding family.  By the time we did get to the airport I felt quite a bit calmer.  It would help think back about the two little birds we left with Adam's parents(we knew they would enjoy bird-sitting.)

Entering the baggage drop area, we made tags, and moved to the security line.  There was a funny man at the base of it telling jokes, making the radiation location much less somber.

Besides grabbing a couple or airport beverages to launch our trip, we didn't have too much extra time from when our flight was advertised to take off.  It did leave about an hour late, but afterwards we were in the air for at least 2 hours.

We landed in southern humidity -- about 90 degrees Fahrenheit.  Immediately we began seeking our luggage on the carousel followed by some affordable transportation. The city bus. We got ourselves to the west of Canal Street at the "luxury apartments" 925 Common Street. On the way we met a kind lady that worked for iHeart radio and begin chatting -- a conversation that led her to give us two free tickets to an Audubon establishment (zoo, aquarium, insectarium, etc.) We thanked her (the tickets cost around $30 a piece!) and got off at our stop.

Under the front door awning were locked glass key-fobbed doors.  We swung around to the other side, and just inside the parking garage was a small wall with locker implants. Box #20 had our key; we got in, talked with the flirtatious Theodora at the front desk, and took the elevator to our one-bedroom.

Jackson Square Cathedral

That evening we took a stroll through the French Quarter stopping at places such as Jackson Square and a small street-bar. There we met Black Mafia Productions -- a local rap artist walking around with a should amp with a eighth-inch to his phone. Bourbon Street surprised us with homeless folks trying to get cash from tourists. We were soft and gave $20 to the first guy we saw... yikes.

After breezing by the palm readers and voodoo shops, we spent the night taste-testing the Bourbon Street Bars.

The next day we decided to take the RTA bus west and go to the Audubon Zoo. It had been drizzling off and on during the 40 minute bus ride, by the time we got there we were informed that there was no power, and there was no guarantee that there would be power at all that day. With some swindling and kind words, we were let in pro-bono and weaved through 1/3 of the park using cellphone lights and callouts. The world of frog building was thrilling in the dark.

Handsome and glorious peacock at the Audubon Zoo

When the power came on we resumed animal observations in the really impressive zoo. A peacock met us on the way to the otters and strutted his embellished feathers proudly. I was even able to reach out and brush my fingers against the tips.

We love birds, but between feeding the dusks and the birds from the quarter machine propped at the edge of the gazebo, we aimed for the shells.  It was war.  They dove and bit at the floating pellets avoiding nothing.  We laughed and cheered for the littlest turtle.

On our way through the zoo, a turtle was on the run from the pond.  Adam scooped him up and tossed him off the gazebo and back into the water.  Welcome home, little buddy.

Turtle on the run

We left the zoo happy and inspired (we LOVE animals) and phoned into the New Orleans Ghost Tour. Upon nightfall, we were learning some dark history by tour guide Bill DeLaVernge. He took us to places such as the LaLaurie Mansion, Madame Laveau's home (refer to the popular TV series, American Horror Story), and the convent. It was informative and kicked the night off properly.

I woke up to text from a wonderful friend of mine that had been living in Arkansas, Charlene, but was also visiting New Orleans with her boyfriend, Kyle, the same weekend as we were there. We planned a lunch at Acme Oyster House, where, after walking there in the rain, discovered the beautiful appetizer charbroiled oysters. We also tried crayfish, but, as we pulled apart the exoskeleton, decided it wasn't something we would order again.

Stage at The Beach

The sun appeared and we walked on N St. Peters towards Decatur Street. Our friends were booking a jazz cruise on an authentic steamboat at a kiosk, and we viewed the Mississippi from the Riverwalk Gazebo. After shopping, Adam and I retreated to our rooftop pool to relax. I was able to stay at our place and have a nap and wade in the 3.6 feet of water, but Adam wanted to see gators! He called and booked a trip on Cajun Encounters just north of New Orleans. A shuttle came and got him; he came back with many stories of gators, boars, raccoons, cypress trees, and all the other wildlife he saw. A couple hours later, we were dragged out for the evening to Bourbon Street where we integrated into the Memorial Day weekend crowd. The Beach was a bar that Adam and I enjoyed quite a bit; it had a stage with a decent interactive band or rapper playing most of the time. A decorative fountain at the entrance spewed both water and flame.

Fountain at The Beach

Blurry photo of our crew at The Bandstand on Bourbon Street

Funny story, we were at The Bandstand on Bourbon, upstairs on the deck.  Charlene went to the restroom so Kyle waited outside the room.  It was getting close to the end of the night (3am or so), so the upstairs bar closed in a moment!  We were told by the bouncer that we needed to leave.  Adam tried to explain that our friend was in the bathroom and we were going to wait for her.  The bouncer got angry and defensive, telling him to get out now.  After being threatened, we were pushed downstairs, but Kyle was still up by the bathrooms.  They came done several moments later and I asked Kyle why the guard didn't get in his face about leaving.  he said, "He told me that I had to get out or he'd make me, and I told him, 'I'd like to see you try.'"  The guard left him alone.  Of course, the guys were hungry before bed.  We were introduced to the fast-food chain Krystal and inhaled some sliders.

The following day was Saturday.  We hit the town around lunch following the north side of the french quarter, stopping at Congo Square, New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Foundation, and a brief walk past the St. Louis Cemetery (a new rule stated, due to the graves getting purposefully ruined and disrespected, you could only enter with a licensed tour guide, or you could use their tour guide for $20.)

Posing with passerby on Frenchman Street

Eventually we went to Frenchman Street, as a local NOLA resident said that is the actual place to have fun at night.  There was bands on the street with a tuba, trombone, and other band instruments, as well as a rap artist who parked their truck and freestyled from a system in his truck bed.  Cafe Nigril was hopping with an impressive swing band.  Dat Dog was a hotdog restaurant/bar with spacey decor.  And 30 / -90 was a club we ended our interesting night at around 4am before hiking it west towards canal once again.





Time to relax.  Our rooftop pool was calling our names.  After hiking across the French Quarter in search of the local muffuletta (an Italian influenced sandwich with mozzarella, provolone, ham, turkey, and a unique green olive mixture) we lounged up top with our apartment provided Starbucks and sunglasses.  But we couldn't only relax one day while in NOLA, in the evening we walked the Mercedes-Benz Superdome to try to meet up with Charlene - she had a free ticket to Country Fest, and we were going to try to get Adam in, too.  Unfortunately, even through all our schemes and honest heart-to-hearts with the security offers, we were turned away and ended up going to Dave & Buster's.  Charlene left early the following day.

Adam and me at the pool

Of course, we have to see all animal exhibitions when we are in a new place, so the following morning we hit up the Audubon Aquarium.  The tanks were wonderfully put together, and they even had a parakeet area.

That evening, after meeting a wonderful off-the-clock tour guide and he showed us art stores, a great place to eat muffulettas, and told us to go to Monday swing-dancing at Dragons Den, we found ourselves, once again, across the French Quarter and in the upstairs of that bar.  Adam went outside and quickly met a local real estate agent becoming quick friends.  I got to learn to swing dance a little.  A few men came up and offered to show me the basics -- It was a blast!

The last full day in NOLA, we went to the Jazz Museum that used to be in the old US mint building.  After, we stopped at a bar for their oyster happy hour and discussed Hurricane Katrina, New Orleans culture, and other life properties with the bartender.  We tried to bus to uptown for an actual locals place to eat, but Jacques-Imos (the place we were aiming to eat some oysters and other food at) had closed until Wednesday.  We ended up eating sushi at a place called Chiba.  The bartender was warm and the prices were better than in the French Quarter.  Adam was still hungry, so we also stopped at a bar-restaurant called Cooter's for uncooked oysters and a muffuletta.  Heading back to our apartment, Adam got to talking to our Trolly operator and learned so much about the old machine.

Making friends with the trolly operator

Our last half day we checked out and hung out at the rooftop pool for a couple hours until we needed to leave to our flight.  We were almost late, though, thinking that all local buses were from the same company.  But, as luck would have it, a fellow passenger pulled through and gave me a couple dollars to ride it.  It took a while, and one angry lady came on upset that the bus was not on time, but we made it and we flew back.  My mother picked us up at the airport, and we traveled all the way back home telling stories, also making a small grocery stop at the fun and wonderful Trader Joes.

Looking back at this trip, I think fondly of the opportunities we had going out and venturing a new location.  I have to remember all the things we did, and the people we met, because without our memories, the experiences might as well not have even happened.  Thank you, NOLA, for being one the most interesting cities I have ever been to.