At first I was afraid...

Today's Blogtember topic is: A story about a time you were very afraid and there really is only one tale to tell.

Back in 2005, in what seems like another lifetime, I went travelling.

A trip across the US of A with a friend, taking in major cities and hidden gems across the country was the kind of adventure I'd always dreamed of, without the issue of a language barrier. 

Having started off in LA, taking in San Francisco, San Diego, Las Vegas, Dallas, and San Antonio we found ourselves in New Orleans, home of jazz music, voodoo, mardi gras and American style merriment.
 

We stayed for a few days, keen to take in all the city had to offer, touring the French Quarter, the amazing cemeteries, visiting a voodoo priestess and listening to jazz on Bourbon Street. 

 

The city was baking hot and we retired to our hotel at the end of each day exhausted and content, unaware that out in the bay of Mexico, trouble was brewing.

We knew that Hurricane Katrina had recently hit Florida, along with a number of other storms which had battered the coastline, but as far as we knew Katrina was losing strength and blowing away far out at sea. We certainly didn't think it was heading our way.

We spent Friday night on Bourbon Street, chatting to locals and tourists, drinking, dancing and just generally having a good time before falling into bed late, looking forward to a Saturday morning lie in.

Waking up mid morning, we lounged around in our room before Gemma ventured downstairs to use the phone. On her return she mentioned that a lot of people seemed to be checking out and thinking no more of it we turned on the television.

That's when things took a turn.

Every channel was broadcasting the town mayor at a press conference with members of the army telling everyone to leave the city as fast as they could. Not even to wait and pack their bags to just drop everything and go.

As two British girls travelling across the country by bus this was easier said than done.

Gemma rushed around trying to hire a car for us, whilst I threw our clothes into any available bag before we hurried down to check out. Pretty much all the guests had already left, only the staff and a few people who were unconcerned about the impending storm remained as we headed out the door and jumped into one of the only remaining cabs in the city.

We'd managed to track down a car at a hire place near the airport and as we crossed town to get there, winding through the backstreets, we could clearly see the local residents preparing for what was to come. It was a strange experience, knowing that some of these people had no option but to stay.

The queue at the hire car company was huge with people desperate to leave and we were lucky to have called ahead and reserved the car that was to become our salvation.

We joined the scores of people in the many traffic jams heading out of the city, both pretty freaked out having not driven a car abroad before, and using a map of the entire country to try and figure out which way to go.

We headed in the direction of Nashville, driving through the night down the wrong side of the highway after they changed direction of the incoming side to help with the evacuation. We drove along, mostly in silence, stunned by what had happened but grateful to be able to leave.

We pulled into a motel on the outskirts of Nashville at around 5am, ate breakfast, called our parents and collapsed into bed. Exhausted from the shock of having to leave New Orleans in such a sad way.

Turning on the news over the following days and seeing the devastation that Katrina brought to the city was a pretty humbling experience. We would have almost certainly had to go to the Superdome stadium when the hotel was evacuated, which was where a large amount of crime happened in the days that followed. The now homeless residents mingled with tourists stuck in the city and things became pretty terrible, it makes you realise how lucky you are.

This post is part of Blogtember, the brainchild of Jenni over at Story of My Life.