In the last post I, very wrongly, bad bad me, placed Natchez in Louisiana. No, that is not the correct answer, I am the weakest link. Wet noodle, whip me now. Natchez is in Mississippi. If you are old, like me, I know when you spell Mississippi, you probably say this in your head, “em-eye-crooked letter-crooked letter-eye -crooked letter-crooked letter-eye -humpback-humpback-eye.” Right?
Since T was not feeling the lurv for the roadside attraction dealeo, we drove into the bustling metropolis of Natchez, MS. We found one of those old hotels built in the 20s complete with old marble floors, curly-cue gold leafed doo-dads and that fabulous, moldy old hotel aroma – the Natchez Eola. One of the nice things about visiting the deep south in August? No one else is visiting the deep south in August because it’s, ya know, hot. Can you believe that? We were able to get a room with a view of the Mississippi river and the bridge that connects Mississippi and Louisiana.
Natchez is an old city (for the U.S.) with lots of history. It was “settled” by the French. Because, as we all know, the people who were there before don’t count. Of course, we get into town and the first thing we do is find a bar. An Irish bar. Yeah, those Irish, they’re everywhere. There was another Irish bar a block down. We didn’t find that out until we were leaving.
Andrew’s is a basic, neighborhood dive bar but the local flavor was well worth the visit. The Olympics were playing on a small tv and two older, local gents were giving a very colorful running commentary. Guess what sport was on? Yep, women’s beach volleyball. Did I say it was colorful?
After Andrew’s we knew we needed to find more brew. We found a liquor store, but they don’t sell beer at the liquor store. I have to say, we are very spoiled here in Texas. You can get beer and wine at the grocery store and you can get everything at a liquor store. Liquor stores are closed on Sunday and you can’t buy beer and wine at the grocery store before noon on Sunday. That’s because Jesus is busy turning water into wine and it takes time. It takes until noon on Sunday for Jesus to turn water into wine. Otherwise, in Texas, if you want to drink, there are no major hurdles keeping you from inebriation. But we did find what we were looking for here…
Natchez definitely has a bit of New Orleans flavor …except for all the drunk people… and teh gayz… and the fact that you can’t buy beer in a liquor store, otherwise, it’s got that whole “the French were here” thing goin’ on.
At the end of the day we watched the sun going down over the Mississippi river…