When it comes to choosing your roads, take highway marked as the “scenic drive”. It’s long and winding and oft unmarked, but it’s the only way to ease into this part of the country—slowly and continuously baffled.

Bryan met us on the Bayou in Houma. Nico found him online , operator of a private tour guide of the swamps. We were dipping our toes in the open water when he showed up, all of us pouring sweat. The brownish-green water rose up into the air and settle onto our skin, a thick salty layer of slime, the perfect coat for swampin’.

Originally he wasn’t going to come out—not enough people in our 2 person group for him to make his money worth—I think we paid him $50. He later explained that the boats have to be repaired often, as in order to cruise through the swamps as were now, one must first literally drag a path with the motor and bottom of the boat through the thick swamp floor.

He was round from every angle and his face was bright red. He was nice and knowledgeable (he even spoke Cajun French), but a bit rough around the edges. Essentially, he was the perfect character to guide you through the swamplands where snakes cling slyly to trees and [disappointingly indifferent] crocs lurk in the murky water. As you buzz through the magical and enigmatic forest of water greedy trees, you can’t help but think of childhood fairytales, equally charged with both fear and wonder.

After the tour, he pointed us in the direction of the oldest, most authentic Cajun restaurant In the world—Mulate’s Breaux Bridge. This location is independently owned and must be a thousand times cooler than the other locations. Covered from floor to ceiling in business cards and photos, dim lighting softens the splintering wood paneled walls and dancefloors that bump to bayou music. Turns out frog legs actually do taste just like chicken, and the spice they’re using could make squid that’s been preserved in bath water taste like a million bucks.