Mississippi

Our first charging stop was still in Louisiana, at a newish mall in Slidell.  We got there about 9.  The closest store open was a Panera, so we trekked across the vast parking lot — one-third of a mile each way according to our Fitbits — for coffee and a shared bagel.

It occurs to me that traveling this way is actually more relaxing than in a gas car.  Rather than zipping up to the gas pump and dashing in to pee and grab a soda, we stop for a half hour or more, usually near somewhere that we can get either a meal or a snack, and just sit and talk and check our Facebook or work on the New York Times crossword.

We weren’t going to stop at all in Mississippi, but we pulled off the interstate to get a few pictures.

I-10 across Mississippi is only 75 miles, but we needed to pee.  We didn’t know if we’d be able to, since neither of us brought our birth certificate.  But we managed to do it at a highway rest stop without incident.

We didn’t spend any money in Mississippi and we didn’t feel welcome. I never thought I would write words like this, but:  We were glad to cross the state line into Alabama.

Wednesday, April 6, 2016