C'mon, Becky, we've got a race to run!

 Remember that old Van Morrison song? ( "She's as sweet as tupelo honey...  she's an angel of the first degree...")
I used to sing it to Maizy at bedtime until she decided she didn't like it. "I'm not an angel!"
Van Morrison did southern beekeepers a favor by making it known to the general public, but among most beekeepers the honey was already famous. It's got a delicate, unique taste and is only produced in the swamps of northern Florida and Louisiana, making it really hard to find.
We searched the city over and finally came across some rare tupelo honey here:

This was a fun place. New Orleans' French Market is a little like our own Columbus North Market, but here, prices were set a bit too high in my opinion.

Ouch!

Oh, well. It's New Orleans. Whad'ya expect... dumb yankee tourists.

I like to get my money's worth when running. I chose the full marathon. Becky, more intelligently, opted for the half.
An interesting running note: If you paid much attention to the Olympics last summer, you may have heard the name, Mo Farah. He's from the U.K. and won gold medals in both the 5000 and 10,0000 meters. Pretty incredible. Well, he showed up in New Orleans. That's him in the black-- on his way to a course record half marathon win.

Mo Farah - 1:00:59 - Course Record

Becky joked that he was lucky he didn't run the full marathon... he'd have me to contend with.  Ha ha.
My less rushed pace enabled me to occasionally get a whiff of the flowers.
Here's a field of clover in full bloom on Feb 24! No wonder some beekeepers go through the hassle and headache of moving their bees south for the winter.


On any trip, and especially down south, you're of course obligated to sample the local menu. Our pre-race meals consisted of sausage jambalaya, shrimp gumbo and a catfish Po Boy at a little place just off  Bourbon St.
After the race we left town to find some fresh authentic seafood.

All fresh at Kenny Seafood

 When we pulled into the crowded lot around noon, we had to dodge the trucks pulling boats behind-- the fishermen were still dropping off the morning's catch. Crab, shrimp, many kinds of fish and of course, crawfish. Yum yum.

I got talking to one guy, a crab fisherman, and he was feeling pretty down about the catch this winter. He was unloading crates of crab amounting to what he thought was around $450 worth. "That doesn't sound too bad," I said.
"Well, considering it costs $500 to run the boat and bait the traps, I'll call that pretty bad."
Fishing and beekeeping... they bear a fair resemblance, I thought to myself.

Rich Fisherman

Poor Fisherman

 After we had eaten our fill of Louisiana's finest and left the fishermen deeper in debt, we decided a swamp tour was in order. I was excited to get a look at an actual tupelo tree.
Here they are. The nectar source behind the wonderful rare honey.

Tupelo gum trees

But I continued to irritate our guide with a barrage of tupelo questions.
"It ain't the trees that make the honey, son, it's the bees..."

My sister- an American Queen

 Unfortunately we missed the riverboat ride home. Had to drive.