Most of this post will be about the Superdome.

It had stopped raining in Baton Rouge. The GPS unit in the Versa had a 'home' setting. It lit up with directions to Louis Armstrong international airport.

The drive was as good as the previous day was difficult. From Baton Rouge to New Orleans is mostly swamp, with the highway raised up out of the water. The artificial land which periodically flanks the road does nothing to detract from how wild the environment still is. It went on like this until we crossed the edge of Lake Pontchartrain and the highway lifted us up over the water.

Above Lake Pontchartrain

A taxi took us the rest of the way through Jefferson and Metairie to the French Quarter. Our room was not ready (nor had we expected it would be) so we left our bags with the desk at the inn and went to see what we could see. A few turns and we stumbled on a patisserie which became one of our favourite stops. Soon after we arrived there was a line out the door.

Some of the locals recommended we invest in some Saints colours before we made for the Superdome. Se would not want to be confused for 'poison,' the name for supporters of visiting teams. It seemed like good advice; already the dominant colours on the streets of the French Quarter were black and gold.

Suitably attired we made for the Superdome and Champions Square; in Lafayette we had been told to makce certain we checked out the square before the game.

Pregame entertainment at Champions Square

In a way were lucky; the Carolina Panthers had sealed up the NFC east division with a win the day before. The Saints were playing for a wild-card spot. Win and they go to the playoffs, lose and their season was done. Had it been any other way, the atmosphere around the game would have been quite different.

In our Saints gear. Who dat?

The Superdome was a surprise. We had not done our research and did not know that the stadium was fully enclosed and air-conditioned. While there were huge crowds outside not many people entered the stadium to watch the pre-game warm ups and it felt a little like we had the place to ourselves. The roof was well above us despite having nose-bleed seats, because we were sitting under one of the enormous screens.

The stadium food was a little different to what we get at home. In place of meat pies they had crawfish pies (Ali had one) and instead of hotdogs, alligator sausage po boys (of course I had one).

The New Orleans Saints, seen here kind of lying around.

The game started and there were still empty seats all around us. It wasn't until five or ten minutes into the first half that the stadium really filled up.

And then it got loud.

98% of these people are Saints fans and 100% of them are screaming

A display before the game began listed the top five loudest stadiums in the world - with the Superdome having recently displaced CenturyLink Field, home of the Seattle Seahawks. During Tampa Bay plays, the crowd were encouraged to 'Get Loud' by the displays around the park. And they responded, screaming and banging on anything they could reach. When the subsequent play failed, the crowd were congratulated for having created a 'fan impact play.'

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

It was all a bit strange after coming from a country where the sportsmanship of crowds is being questioned and reviewed at the moment. In the defence of the NOLA group, nobody was shouting obscenities. They were just shouting.

There was no organised group of away supporters. Unless you looked hard, you would not think there were away supporters at all. The whole crowd seemed to be decked in black and gold. When Tampa Bay made a big play the stadium was silent.

This photograph mostly for the benefit of my brother

The first half was a tight contest but the Saints ran away with it in the third quarter. The stadium emptied out fast in the fourth quarter; also interesting from an Australian point of view. We usually only leave stadiums when our team is getting flogged.

The New Orleans crowd might have had the right of it, though. With the result clear the heart went out of Tampa Bay, while the Saints pulled all their star players from the game to protect them for the playoffs. The game ground to a halt and the last seven minutes dragged on for close to forty (and nothing happened).

I made Ali stay for the whole thing because I am terrible.

We walked back to the French Quarter to see what madness was unfolding.

Bourbon St madness

The crowds from the stadium had found their way down and joined the crowds from the bars. We pushed through until we found a nice spot on Royal and had very nice beers and po boys for dinner. In fact the beers were so good, we stayed for another.

We reached our beds a little later than anticipated. As is the way in New Orleans.

Of ducks and fog and forest

The next few days all ran together on my camera, so I'm just going to cover them all in one post.  We went to the Oregon Ducks v Washington Huskies game in Eugene and had a great day.  The people we'd met in Portland were able to send us along to a McMenamins around the corner from the stadium, so we were well fed.

Every now and then the road just disappears into cloud.

A great day was had, watching the Ducks build momentum and eventually demolish the Huskies.  We spent the afternoon 'tailgating' with the people of Oregon.

The next morning we headed for Eureka, taking an amazing drive to the Californian coast.  Redwood forests are spectacular.  We drove in and out of cloud all day and eventually descended to the Pacific Ocean.

"Is there a corner coming up?" "Probably."

And then, one Monday morning, we came down a stretch of highway and saw the Golden Gate Bridge around the corner.

Oh hey, I know that bridge.

The Talk had recommended a great hostel in the middle of downtown San Francisco.  The Skeptic and I took off for a run to the top of Lombard Street, hoping to get some photos of the sunset.  We were too late.

Go CU!

Around the corner from our hostel in Denver was a nice little hipster cafe, the name of which I have completely forgotten.  Nevertheless, we ate there every morning we were in Denver.

Not the biggest table I've ever used.

After breakfast the Talk, the Skeptic and I made the journey to Boulder.  We had tickets to the football; the Colorado University Buffaloes were playing the Baylor Bears. The CU campus is set in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains, and it was a stunning day; the Skeptic and I both left a little sun-burned, much to our surprise.

Scenic CU.

 A group of tailgaters invited us to join them for a couple of drinks before the game, and we watched the marching band warm up and rehearse.  This was a completely alien experience for three Australian lads; not only would we never see activity like this on our University campus, we would never see it at all.

The CU marching band, doing their thang.

The band go through their paces before every home game; if the Buffs are playing in the afternoon, they have to begin rehearsal at dawn.  This makes them unpopular with the nearby dorms.

Baker Hall, right opposite the band

We were told that we had to head towards the stadium before the game started so we could meet the team's mascot, Ralphie.  Ralphie is a full-sized adult bison.  She is also a lady bison.  She leads the team onto the field at every home game, and before the game poses for photographs.  This is the fifth Ralphie.

Ralphie.

During half-time we returned to the tailgaters to have a couple of beers.  Their tailgater of choice was an ambulance.  They walked us through why an ambulance is the best vehicle to convert for this purpose; it's large, has a good engine and is already wired for electricity.  This particular fanbulance was kitted out with a grill, satellite television and a roll-out tent at the rear.

The Tailgater was a converted ambulance.

Unfortunately the Buffs lost, but the experience of our first college football game was unforgettable.  We stood on the bleachers in the student section, shouting our trachea dry and shaking our keys to make as much noise as possible.  Fight, fight, fight fight fight!

The Buffs about to kick a field goal.

Who did the district sleep with?

The drive from Boston to Washington D.C. took a little longer than we expected.  We had to backtrack through New York, then through Baltimore and into D.C.

So I'm driving, driving, driving...

When we arrived, we found that the "hostel" we had booked was ambitiously defined.  It was in a part of town which I could succinctly describe as "dodgy," and was a guy's house, which he had called a hostel.  We stepped back out the door to "find our passports," and looked for alternative lodgings.

Powering through Baltimore.

We wound up staying right in the heart of the city, five blocks from the White House.  We made our way south to find some dinner, and ate at a place called Harry's, because it served hamburgers and had the football on television.  Both the Liar and the Skeptic opted to head to bed early, so the Talk and I watched the Giants/Bears game and ate cake.

"One serve" of cheesecake at Harry's.

We didn't know, at the time, how sick the Liar really was.

Shipping up.

The day we used to explore Boston was soaking wet, and humid.

Boston is a city of concrete and stone.

The most 'historic' city in the USA, we didn't have to work hard to find interesting things in Boston.  Just wandering down the street took us past a fascinating cemetery.

Samuel Adams is kind of a big deal in Boston.

Even in death, John Hancock suffers from small man syndrome.

Paul Revere's stone was surrounded by tourists.

Looking for nuts? Or something more sinister?

And just past that was the Boston Common.  From there we turned back and headed to Quincy.

Boston Common

Every street we went down was full of students.

The business district was intimidating.

Quincy Market, just over the road from...

Faneuil Hall, at the other end of which stands...

Samuel Adams...

And this guy.

Boston City Hall is an achievement of brutalism.

That evening the Skeptic opted to stay in the hostel to sleep off his headcold, while the rest of us walked to Harvard to meet up with the Professor, who took us out for burritos and beers on campus.  We told him how much we were enjoying watching American Football.  "As much football as you want to watch," he told us, "that's how much is on."

Later we headed to a bar next to a bowling alley, where we watched the replay of the AFL final with the Boston Demons AFL club.

Harvard was quite pretty at night.

On the ride from the campus to the bar, I accused the Professor of racism when he made fun of the Boston accent.  "I don't think that's racist," he told me.  "Bostonians of all races have the same ridiculous accent."
We got home so late it was early, dissatisfied with the game, but happy with the amount of beer we had consumed.