Today we had to head home, which meant experiencing “The Miracle of Flight”. For me this means spending a few hours crammed behind a bloke who insisted on reclining his seat, even though I had mentioned to him hat my legs don’t have a joint in them that would make this possible. As we got on the plane one of the more alert stewardesses made the observation that “This plane wasn’t built for someone as tall as you”. Indeed. But then complaining about the seating arrangements when you are flying back from somewhere as nice as New Orleans seems a bit churlish.
A local chap reckons that the best times to visit the city are spring and autumn, when the heat is a bit less intense. That may be true. But I’d be happy to go back there next week if I got the chance. Great place.