Fest-iquette

Jazz fest is by far the most civilised festival I have ever had the pleasure of attending or even watching on television - not only do some of the tents have proper seating and carpets, but the gospel tent even has an air conditioning rig (albeit largely down to the fact that a large proportion of the performers are either old, wearing robes or both). Because everything finishes at 7 pm and there's no camping on site, they clear everything up in the evenings, change the toilets and even manage a pretty comprehensive job of putting sand and wood-chips down in the muddy areas, and everyone goes home or to their hotels every night to clean themselves up so there aren't those mud-covered ghouls that you see wondering around Glastonbury.

However, there are still those who manage to express their enthusiasm in really annoying ways, specifically those who bring along ten foot poles with flags, toys and other accessories on the top which they wave gleefully around regardless of whether they are standing in front of one of the big screens designed to aid everyone's views or in a tent which is full of people who have already seen a fishing pole in their lives and don't need another one waved in their faces while they are trying to listen to a band. There was one particular offender who managed to obscure the views of hundreds of people by planting a massive Japanese flag with a skull and crossbones underneath it right in the middle of one of the stages, so we had to continuously dodge back and forth to try and see Dr John busting some impressive moves, including a rather natty little number where he bent over and touched the floor.

Having said that, the quality of festival goers is by far higher than the gang of drugged up 'we're so crazy' students that you get at the kind of festivals I have frequented in the UK - for a start there's a good contingent of oldies rocking out which is always nice to see. Plus plenty of families with small children who are always good value particularly last week when there were a goodly number of mud puddles which were like catnip to the littlies and watching their repeated and unrelenting escape attempts was an entertaining pastime with just a tinge of guilt as we saw their parents continually breaking away from their attempts to relax to round up their offspring and try to park them in at least a semi-permanent position. The joys of the child free jazz fest experience certainly made for enjoyable viewing.

You don't know what you've got till it's gone

There are certain things that you don't really realise are essential to your happiness until you find yourself being deprived of them and over the last 7 weeks or so I have had ample chance to reflect on some of these:

1. Proper sized towels - I held out for a while using teeny tiny hotel and motel towels even though I had one with me because it seemed silly to add to our laundry loads with a towel when we could use those provided and have them laundered for us. But today I cracked and am sitting here wrapped in my big towel as I type so thrilled am I at having something which actually wraps a reasonable way around my body and isn't see-through thin.

2. Having a window in the bathroom - we haven't had a naturally lit bathroom since we left home - it's pretty rare in hotels, motels and other types of sleep shack anywhere and isn't normally the kind of thing I notice when we're away for a week or two but it has been nice to have one in our apartment.

3. Knowing where to buy things - not just where the shop is, but what each chain actually sells so that when you want something out of the ordinary (such as a pencil sharpener for example) you can accurately predict where you will be able to buy one. This is particularly important when you have to drive absolutely everywhere - nothing here is within walking distance of anything else, meaning that the simplest errand is a harrowing brush with American roads and drivers, the quality of both leaving much to be desired, for what might turn out to be a wildly unsuccessful mission to buy something really simple.

4. Having a fully equipped kitchen - so far we have managed with motel ice and the occasional fridge, but after being on the road for seven weeks you get to a point where eating out is no longer a treat, but such a regular occurrence that you start to long for the chance to pick exactly what you have for dinner and wish that you didn't have to get dressed before breakfast. We've been in an apartment for just under a week now, but we're already enjoying the ability to have cold drinks whenever we want and cook dinner for ourselves. Having said that, we are still eating off plastic and paper plates with plastic cutlery, so we are thinking of treating ourselves to some dirt cheap tableware in the next couple of days so we can fully appreciate the experience.

5. Being able to walk to places is definitely underrated - we're not averse to a longish stroll and have even been known to walk for a couple of hours under the right circumstances, but walking anywhere in the US seems to be a complete anathema to the locals meaning that everything is so spread out that it's almost impossible to sensibly walk between places. The heat in Louisiana does mean that it's easy to understand why people don't want to walk around too much without air conditioning, so I suppose it's hardly surprising, but it is a noticeable factor in our daily plans.

The downside of being delicious

Louisiana rocks, and we're having a blast here at Jazz fest and seeing more awesome bands in the evenings. The only downside is that I am so delicious -all day, and apparently all night too, I am being bitten to buggery, although inexplicably my right side is way more popular than my left, to the point where I now have about 50 bites down my right arm and another 10 or so on the right side of my back, whereas my left hand side has only been munched about 10-15 times in total. There seems to have been a bug dinner party on my forehead last night as I have four bites very close together which have taken the form of a long blister which looks absolutely revolting.

We have bought bug spray, but reading the warnings on the back has been enough to put me off using it thus far, including the opening line which is 'It is a violation of federal law to use this product in a manner which is not consistent with its labelling' before a long list of ways to use the spray which might kill or maim you, including information on how to contact Poison Control Centres if need be.

The upside of this is that I went to see a pharmacist at the local Walgreens who looked about 15, chewed gum loudly whilst looking with vagues distaste at my blistered arm, and recommended peroxide and Neosporin. We duly purchased both and came home for a mammoth bite treatment session which was strangely romantic, but during which we discovered that peroxide actually does bleach your skin so for quite a while I had reverse leopard-style spots around every bite which made me look like some weird Michael Jackon uber fan before it faded enough to leave the house for some more funk.

One of the reasons I find it particularly galling is that I am always nice to bugs - I never knowingly kill them, I try to save those that fall into my drinks, I actively discourage the Boy Wonder from hurting the ones that stray into our house, and yet he remains relatively unbitten whilst I am a red, blistered mess and have been munched in the most awkward places - elbows (meaning I can't lean properly on anything), shoulders (meaning putting a bra on is a particularly hazardous experience at the moment) and the backs of my hands and between my fingers meaning that I can't even wash and dry my hands without being reminded that I am a bulging, oozing blisterfest. Still, the Boy Wonder has been patrolling the house every night spraying every entry point with the terrifying chemical concoctions and (fingers crossed) the number of bites isn't actually increasing, so hopefully I will return to my non bitten state over the next week or so and survive this whole ordeal relatively unscathed.

If you've heard of it, don't bother going

A phenomenon we've come to understand is that of the awesomeness of small diners where lovely waitresses (I'm not being sexist - we haven't been served by a man in a diner since we left New York) serve food 24 hours a day at ridiculously low prices. Whilst in Lafayette we tried all the 'recommended' eateries which make the guidebooks and people tell you you have to visit, and they ranged from the alright, but not as amazing as we had been told (Randolls, Prejeans) through mediocre at best and overpriced (the Blue Dog Cafe - I'm talking about you!) to the downright disappointing (Mulates). All the places names above had outstanding reviews as 'must eat' places, whether because of the unique barn dining experience with great music, great food and dancing all night long or the iconic artwork and legendary atmosphere and in fairness, Randols and Prejeans did both have ok food and music, but Mulates was a lame duck with music finishing at 9.30 and expensive, crappy food and the Blue Dog had one of the worst duos apparently in Louisiana and the iconic artwork turned out to be pictures featuring identical images of a Blue Dog which looked slightly scared and made me feel uncomfortable.

However, Mel's Diner, John's Family Restaurant and the Hub City diner had waitresses who openly laughed at our accents before declaring them 'amazing' (not that that swayed me, but you can't help but love the way Americans are so pleased to hear an English accent) but serve huge plates of delicious food which is about ten times more enjoyable and about a third of the price of the 'big names'. You simply cannot beat that kind of deal, and we have now resolved not to bother going anywhere that's a 'must' on the grounds that the likelihood of disappointment seem inordinately high, and stick to places with a choice of sitting in a booth or at the counter, have random assortments of decorative accoutrements on the wall which focus your attention when fighting off a hangover, waiting for lunch or just enjoying the 'Happy Days' style diner-ishness of it all, and everything comes with a choice of grits, hashbrowns or homefries whether you want them or not. I wish we had this kind of establishment in the UK - we'd never cook again. And probably die of heart disease before either of us saw 40.

They do things differently here (3)

They don't have squash! Nothing approximating the magical syrupy goodness of squash, cordial or any of the soft drink mixers we know and love in the UK and Europe. They have powder - which is no use at all for curing hiccups - which quite honestly seems to be a weird substitute and doesn't really allow for the fun of making all those cocktails which require you to pour something over something slowly to make one layer sit on top of another.

The US also seems to have a slightly puritanical approach to juice - in the UK, we drink so much juice that we tend to buy the cheapest, long life cartons available to ensure that we don't bankrupt ourselves whilst loading up on vitamin C. Here in the US, the only place you can find juice is in the chiller - it's Tropicana, Sunny D or Minute Maid all the way and nothing in the way of bog standard cheapish juice to slake our morning thirst without forking out for the good stuff.

They do things differently here (2)

One of the things that I am known for amongst my friends is the fact that I eat really slowly - when the Boy Wonder and I sit down to eat effectively the same thing, I will generally take around twice as long to finish, to the point where on the rare occasion that I finish first, it's not only noteworthy, but a matter for celebratory taunting.

All this can be embarrassing when eating out as there always comes a point where people start looking round wondering why everyone's still got dirty plates in front of them until their eyes settle on me still munching away at the end of the table, holding up the process for everyone. I wasn't really aware of the fact that this waiting style is particularly European, but now we've been here for a while I have come to realise that it is practice in the US to whip away a cleared plate as soon as it's spotted, which pretty much constantly leaves me sitting there with my half eaten food in front of me and nothing for the Boy Wonder to even pretend to be doing while I carry on eating.

I can't tell whether it's better or worse than back home - in some ways it draws more attention to the fact that one of us is taking a lot longer than the other to eat, but at least the one who's finished can lie down on the table if they get so fed up of waiting for me to finish. However, having been brought up being told that it's rude to clear the table until everyone has finished (despite the fact that this often had to be done when I was a child just so that everyone could get on with the stuff that needed doing) it does seem mildly inappropriate, which is taking some getting used to.