I woke early today while Matthew enjoys a couple of extra hours of horizontal life admin. While I am sitting catching up on what my friends are up to back home I hear birds chirping in the yard, church bells chiming, and Yvette casually picking away on her guitar like it’s the soundtrack to my morning. Honestly, peak Friday. What a way to start today and our official half way mark. Somehow this holiday has gone both fast and slow, like time itself is also on vacation and doing a terrible job.

We are looking forward to checking out the swamp today, courtesy of a small boat tour we’ve booked in to learn about the wildlife and hopefully lay eyes on an alligator or two. We’d planned out our day to do our tour mid morning then hit a local place for lunch straight after.

We roll up to the ramp and are greeting by Brett as he drops off a group, takes one look at us and others and says “are you my next victims”. Comforting. We jump on with an eclectic group, some from France, one from Germany and scatterings of Americans from different parts.

The Captain is already giving “chaotic uncle energy,” evidenced by the fake snake he left on a seat that nearly sent a guy into early retirement.

It doesn’t take long before the 1st gorgeous little alligator photo opportunity presents itself.

The swamps are stunning all by themselves, and the wildlife is such a wonderful bonus. It’s evident the photos do not to the experience justice as we pass countless alligators of all ages. The little ones are ridiculously cute, Brett calls this next area “the nursery,” then deadpans, “These are what we call the Awe Alligator… because when you see them you go awwww.” And honestly? Correct.

The Captain’s humour is the perfect balance of funny and cheesy, including when he totally misjudged where an old tree stump stuck out of the swamp, gave it quite a bump, followed by “whoops we nearly died”. We weave in and out of some tight squeezes, and stopped in amongst the swamp where there were huge trees covered in lichen. It was breathtaking. I am so glad we chose the smaller boat over the airboats. We got in real close to places an airboat wouldn’t as well as not scaring off the animals.

We thank our Captain and head for a local spot called Turtle’s, ironically, not a turtle in sight thanks to the airboats roaring around like they’re late for a NASCAR audition.

We walk in, sidle up to the bar and when asked what we want, it seems a regular thing here that you’re just supposed to know what they have. No drinks menus at most places we go to. I ask if they have any white wine, apparently Chardonnay and Moscato are the only options. Sorry dad but I CANNOT do Chardonnay, so Moscato it is!

We are soon joined by a lovely older couple who are back in their town visiting their son who is proposing to his girlfriend tomorrow at a family party, and no one knows they’re coming. The party theme is Dungeon’s and Dragons and they have their outfits ready to go. It sounds like an exciting time.

The couple are so sweet, the kind of people you instantly want to adopt as your American aunt and uncle, and seem to travel in ways like Matthew and I. We share with them our next stops on our holiday and they recommend yet another local’s bar, but in New Orleans. We take it down for future reference.

After I enjoy a dessert shot gifted by our new friends, we all head out with full bellies, warm hearts and a whole new chapter of stories.

After a relaxing late afternoon back at our homely cottage we debate dinner options. Literally I feel that every day is centred around where we are going to eat next, which in the south isn’t always easy given the amazing food down here. I personally loved last night’s crawfish, and you know when in the South….

We cannot be any more excited to see our friend Andrew who still has the Aussie badge we gave to him last night. Tonight’s meal is basically last night’s meal with a plot twist. We also choose some southern cracklins. Yes, cracklins! Chicken with the skin on, deep‑fried, unapologetic, and absolutely everything my GP would warn me about. We had a ‘side’ of crawfish. I cannot overstate my love of crawfish. My only complaint is the mess. I’m not a girly‑girl, but I also don’t love looking like I’ve been finger‑painting in seafood. Still, for crawfish, I persist. I politely decline Matthew’s kind offer to crack my crawfish for me. The pile of my serviettes is not what I see up and down the bar, delicately cleaning my hands and fingernails after every few crawfish.

The pile of shells tells everyone we are done (on any continent) and we get to soak up the crazy as it’s Friday night and the place is packed. I also spot a couple of signs at the bar that are now my jam.

We also meet Andrew’s wife, who picked up shifts just to see more of him which is honestly the sweetest workaround for opposite schedules I’ve ever heard. As an architect in training, with a day job, time together is hard to come by.

The NFL draft is on the TV, and we get an education — plus a healthy dose of side‑eye when we don’t recognise the home team. Apparently my accent, confused face and “I don’t know anything about anything” energy weren’t enough clues.

We find out at dinner we can check out whenever we like, which works well as we are headed to a very special breakfast in the morning. Something that can only be experienced right here – in Breaux Bridge and we are unreasonably excited.

Missed a day? Check out the rest here