#038: Profusion of Contusions

No sooner had Jack the Grouse breathed his last, and I had expelled the final helping of unwanted bacteria, than I discovered initial evidence of an infestation in the Nimbus. Just one tiny little crawly thing. But one is all it takes.
I awoke in Tomoka State Park the next morning covered in bites, up and down both arms, legs, even a thumb (surely there is nothing satisfying about a thumb?! Oh, no, wait...). These were a lot of bites. Traditionally I have measured my susceptibility to such things against the yardstick of Mr. Fursedon, A. who, down the years, had always seemed to come off the worst when nibbled upon. Certainly, my own inflammations have always paled in comparison. But, today, he would have been proud, maybe even a little bit justified in his own suffering, to see the profusion of contusions I had acquired overnight. It is possible for someone else to get as bitten up as you, Andrew.
I guess so long as they are nothing to do with the Black Widows or their ilk that you get in these parts, then I'll be okay. Yeah, that's right. You heard me. Black Widows.

I've been speeding across the state the last few days. Speeding in the travelling by motorised vehicle sense. Not the speeding sense. Or the speeding sense. Florida - the sunshine state according to the licence plates - had so far served up for me monsoon conditions, but got a lot better as I moved away from the coast. My route is now west, eventually back towards LA. But there is time yet for a couple of stop-offs.
My last night in Florida was spent at Blackwater River State Park, where natural sand beaches form along the banks and alligators can be seen in the waters. I don't see any though - bear (non) memories - so make do with sitting in the blazing sun.
The next leg takes me into the Deep South, through the states of Alabama and Mississippi and on to the city of New Orleans, Louisiana. As I enter the city limits, Hope Of The States are, perhaps aptly, served up by the ipod A to Z.
If I am honest, I only had Katrina in mind as I drove through the streets, and needed reminding by the billboards offering legal aid that the BP oil spill had hit these shores but two years after the catastrophic hurricane. The parts of the city I see are nothing like what I expected. I'm unsure what exactly I did expect, but this is probably the most beautiful city I have seen on my voyage - grand houses line the streets and there are boutique shops along the joining thoroughfares. It speaks, to me, of a city in bloom.
I cross the Mississippi for a second time, albeit thousands of miles from my first traversal, to my home for the night - yet another state park, alongside the levy.
Sadly, time and my desire to see as much as I can while I am in the country mean I only spend one night in New Orleans, and the next day sees me head out across the flat expanses of Louisiana. I go from hot sun by the sea to driving through cloud at zero elevation in a matter of thirty minutes. The city of Baton Rouge is caught in a real funk, but the rain doesn't last too long and I am left to drive across the swamps towards the border with the next state: Texas.