It took me about 2 hours, 45 minutes to get to Grand Isle – stopping to check tires, at the tourist center to get a map, and lunch.
The first thing that struck me as I approached Grand Isle was that the houses are WAY HIGH UP. The pilings are – golly, I don’t know – maybe 14 feet and the houses are that high up.
And as I approached Grand Isle, I saw many signs welcoming birders – even into people’s backyards.
I checked into my hotel room and learned there was no water in the town because of fixing pipes (it was later remedied and fine). The manager said it’s a regular problem, because the salt water corrodes everything so badly.
Then I drove around the town a little and went to the school where the Migratory Bird Festival was out of. Even the school was high up on pilings!
I met some folks and then we headed out to the bird trail. Within the first 10 minutes or so, I’d seen enough amazing birds to make the trip worthwhile – scarlet tanagers, summer tanagers, orchard orioles, indigo buntings, American red start, and many more. Gazillions hummingbirds. Fantastic. 
Here’s one pic of a scarlet tanager – it’s slightly to the right, in the middle. They’re an amazing beautiful red. (Don’t confuse the hummingbird feeders!) (I was going to crop the pic, but I thought this would be good evidence that I tell the truth – I cannot photograph birds.)
And here are some wild irises – my very favorite flowers. How fitting that they would be Louisiana’s state flower! The Nature Conservancy and some other organizations have about 100 acres of wildlife reserve there, of the native oak-hackberry habitat. 
I met some fun people, including a couple from Juneau of all places! They’ve been traveling around the lower 48 for the past 3 years, living out of their van with a pop-up top (for the bed). It’s a totally sweet van – I’d live in it!
After the bird trail, I headed out to the beach. Yes, Kate Chopin’s beach. I had a great walk from the state park clear to the end, wrapping around to the bay. It’s so invigorating and satisfying to walk along the beach. Once I left the park area, there was nobody around and it was awesome. In the first pic below, you see the bayou to the left and the Gulf of Mexico to the right. 
And I just thought this was a way cool sand layering pattern
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And here, some funky critter-holes. 
This made me glad that Selma wasn't along. Anything dead and rotting she thinks is some way-wonderful perfume, and usually before I can grab her she's rolled it, writhing in ecstasy. BLECH! Bathtime! I saw about 6 dead pelicans, which seemed a lot. 
And here's the ubiquitous oil industry. Sigh. 
Once the beach tent camping is reopened there, I’m definitely heading back!
Then I had dinner and headed back to the hotel, where I saw the sunset on the pier as people fished all around me. I got a little homework done while half-watching Stargate.
I didn’t sleep great, but it was ok. After my hotel room breakfast (that was a great idea, that I did that), I headed out to the marina for the boat tour. And waited. And waited. Some other people joined me later and they waited, too. I chatted up a couple, originally from New Orleans, and they were awesome – quirky and NOT RACIST and fun-loving positive retirees.
Once we decided that the boat wasn’t coming, we headed back to the school. Found out that the weather was too inclement for the boat captain (barely a drizzle and not much wind, so I don’t know – think he’s a wienie – the real “weather” didn’t start until hours later), so we signed up for the Island History Tour with a local, Vera Chighizola, direct descendant of “Nez Coupé” – Louis Chighizola, one of Pirate Jean Lafitte’s right-hand men. How cool is that – her great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was a pirate so mean he lost his nose in a brawl? Here's Vera, who is my height, showing how high the water got in Katrina - almost to her house but not quite. Once the power was turned on October 8, 2005, she was fine - just needed some minor roof repair, but Mennonite volunteers did that for her - she just provided the supplies. (Don't get me started on the Mennonites - THEY ROCK.)
We saw lots of fun things – like this house, where women of the town would gather every day at 3 pm after lunch dishes were done and children were home from school and told to go out and play. They would gather to catch up and spend quality time – and I sure wish I’d written down the Cajun word for it - make (faire) something that begins with a V.
Speaking of Cajun v words, this is a cattle guard – something like villveau, which means “cattle-turn-around.” Grand Isle used to have tons of cows wandering all around, so people would put these in their backyards instead of gates so the cows couldn’t get in. 
There’s also this house, which is two houses connected. Long ago, the small house on the right, the mother’s, was located here, and the son’s, the larger part, was down a street away. During a big storm (Betsy?), the son’s house got moved there, so instead of moving it back they just attached ‘em. Cajun ingenuity, although Grand Isle is NOT Cajun – it’s mostly descendants of Lafitte’s “privateers” (pirates), so lots of different kinds of people (Chighizola was Italian, and others English and all sorts of things), though Cajun French was the lingua franca back in the day. 
As you see here, even the Town Hall is elevated – as were the post office, community center, etc. Vera’s cousin evacuated here during Betsy, and the altimeter broke at 175 mph. Sheesh!
After the Island History Tour, I headed over to the Butterfly Dome – really nicely done. Not too many butterflies – but I think that’s because visitors don’t know better and they let them out – I saw the people that came in behind me held the door open a long time, and I saw some butterflies get out. 
Then I went back to the school and waited for lunch, chatting up some folks, and hiding from the hard rain in the van of the camping Alaskans.
The jambalaya and white beans were EXCELLENT – far better than I get in any restaurant. It was a fundraiser for a cancer patient, and during lunch we chatted up the locals organizing it.
What a great place! One of the women, she lives in LaRose (45 minutes away) and had a camp in Grand Isle, but can’t afford to rebuild after Katrina. So she comes every weekend and stays with different friends. THAT is the kind of place Grand Isle is. The tight-knit sense of community is fantastic.
I SO want to buy a camp there now and have all my friends come visit me!
I left after post-lunch chat, and I made it back in two hours. I had planned to stay until later this afternoon, but it was raining really hard and my homework started to way on my mind.
Now I blog and post pics, reflecting on my really great mini-vacation, listening to Jack Johnson, getting ready to buckle down for the next 3.5 weeks of intensive studying.
And I’ll be going back to Grand Isle! Who wants to join me??
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