Laissez les bon temps rouler!
New Orleans, the other Sin City. If you don't succumb to the debauchery, you aren't doing it right.
The French Quarter opens its arms to all, with one command: enjoy yourself! And why not? Booze flows abundantly from nearly every single establishment (flashy/gaudy daiquiri shops, ancient corner bars, tropical courtyard clubs, booths offering $3 "Big Ass Beers To Go!", even some souvenir shops serve beers and shots), and not only is it legal to carry open alcoholic beverages through the streets and drink publicly, it is encouraged. Even if you are carrying a cup from another establishment, you are urged to go inside each club. There are no cover charges, and from what I could tell, only the strip clubs had a drink minimum (one per customer). It feels surprisingly safe (cops are everywhere), and I didn't see any fights or crimes in progress.
Then there is the music, from which there is no escape. Street performers playing guitar and washboards, parades led by brass bands and karaoke in the bars by day, and live performances ranging all over the musical spectrum in every club by night. Bruce and I were not terribly adventurous, as we stayed pretty much right on Bourbon Street for our entertainment, but we still saw some great stuff. Next time we'll seek out places frequented by locals to get a more authentic musical experience. As this was my first visit, I was happy to be all touristy. On our first night we came upon a local band of about six young guys playing brass and drums, right on the corner of Canal and Bourbon (Bruce had seen them at the same spot on a previous trip last year, so they must be regulars. Anybody know what they call themselves?) -- they are tremendous! We listened to the music and watched a few clearly drunk men dancing in the street. As is my way, I was dancing in my self-conscious white-girl style (sort of shimmying my body while standing in one spot), which drew enough attention that I was pulled out into the street to dance not once but twice, with a "don't be shy!"
This party is going on 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, in one of the most gorgeous locales I have seen. The French Quarter is really, really old, truly historic and, according to all I've read, looks exactly as it always has. The ornate wrought iron balconies are incredibly beautiful, and the courtyards are to die for, rich with luscious palm and banana trees and tropical foliage and flowers. We spent the first afternoon just walking and gawking.
Of course the food is legendary, but I must admit that we did not focus on eating (unusual as that may be for me), and even skipped some meals. We had two dinners out, ordering the requisite red beans & rice, ribs, and shrimp creole, all of which were good. Breakfast is not really a focus in the Quarter (nobody is awake at that hour!), and during the day I was content to have a quick slice of pizza or hot dog as I strolled the streets. Bruce had to work during the days, and I was not about to sit down in restaurants alone. As with music, next time we will make a better effort to try the real "Nawlins" cuisine, the best of which can be found outside of the Quarter, I'm told. We did, of course, have cafe au lait and biegnets at Cafe Du Monde (twice).
As I bought a small trinket on Jackson Square, the shop keeper thanked me for supporting New Orleans. Several others said how glad they were that I (as a tourist) was there. I did not go to New Orleans to dwell on the tragedy of Kartina, but it is ever present. Locals talk about it all of the time, seem to need to share the experience. I knew the Quarter had remained untouched, but was shocked to see the water damage immediately outside if its borders. This tiny gem of a place was spared, and it feels like a miracle. It rained hard on one of our days there, and I saw Canal Street partially flood before my eyes. Such a fragile place, but so vivacious, it is hard to reconcile.
It was a wonderful trip, sort of a honeymoon for us. I experienced a few firsts, too. Having never been to a casino, we spent a little time in Harrah's. I was impressed! It is like a huge fancy arcade for grown-ups. Not at all interested in gambling, I blew $30 or so on a few slot machines, and quickly had my fill. But just to be there, see the place and the people, hear all the noise, feel the excitement, and possibly partake in the buffet, dine in a celebrity-chef owned restaurant or take in the show, it is well worth the trip inside. We happened to go into the central bar area of the casino at the moment The Saints won a game, and the crowd exploded! Back on Bourbon, we checked out a couple of strip clubs (a definite first) and found it to be a fun couples activity ('nuff said). Also, I had never been club-hopping, so we took care of that. I even managed to drag my husband onto a dance floor and bump and grind against him a bit. Bruce was even drunk at least once, which is a rare occurrence. Yeah, it was a great time.
I didn't do any of the tours I intended to do. I really need to see the Garden District, and explore a cemetery. I'd like to learn a little about Voodoo and see a temple (as part of a tour). And I should see a swampy area. I have to re-read Interview With the Vampire and find Louis and Lestat's haunts. I want to buy something from a local artist on Jackson Square. I still need to go shopping on Magazine Street. I can't wait to go back!
After four days and three nights of indulgence, it is nice to be home. I missed Kaya terribly, though she was much better off staying with my parents. This was not a trip for kids. And I missed my animals. So now its back to life as usual; time to pay the bills, do laundry and start looking for a new job. After a nap.
The French Quarter opens its arms to all, with one command: enjoy yourself! And why not? Booze flows abundantly from nearly every single establishment (flashy/gaudy daiquiri shops, ancient corner bars, tropical courtyard clubs, booths offering $3 "Big Ass Beers To Go!", even some souvenir shops serve beers and shots), and not only is it legal to carry open alcoholic beverages through the streets and drink publicly, it is encouraged. Even if you are carrying a cup from another establishment, you are urged to go inside each club. There are no cover charges, and from what I could tell, only the strip clubs had a drink minimum (one per customer). It feels surprisingly safe (cops are everywhere), and I didn't see any fights or crimes in progress.
Then there is the music, from which there is no escape. Street performers playing guitar and washboards, parades led by brass bands and karaoke in the bars by day, and live performances ranging all over the musical spectrum in every club by night. Bruce and I were not terribly adventurous, as we stayed pretty much right on Bourbon Street for our entertainment, but we still saw some great stuff. Next time we'll seek out places frequented by locals to get a more authentic musical experience. As this was my first visit, I was happy to be all touristy. On our first night we came upon a local band of about six young guys playing brass and drums, right on the corner of Canal and Bourbon (Bruce had seen them at the same spot on a previous trip last year, so they must be regulars. Anybody know what they call themselves?) -- they are tremendous! We listened to the music and watched a few clearly drunk men dancing in the street. As is my way, I was dancing in my self-conscious white-girl style (sort of shimmying my body while standing in one spot), which drew enough attention that I was pulled out into the street to dance not once but twice, with a "don't be shy!"
This party is going on 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, in one of the most gorgeous locales I have seen. The French Quarter is really, really old, truly historic and, according to all I've read, looks exactly as it always has. The ornate wrought iron balconies are incredibly beautiful, and the courtyards are to die for, rich with luscious palm and banana trees and tropical foliage and flowers. We spent the first afternoon just walking and gawking.
Of course the food is legendary, but I must admit that we did not focus on eating (unusual as that may be for me), and even skipped some meals. We had two dinners out, ordering the requisite red beans & rice, ribs, and shrimp creole, all of which were good. Breakfast is not really a focus in the Quarter (nobody is awake at that hour!), and during the day I was content to have a quick slice of pizza or hot dog as I strolled the streets. Bruce had to work during the days, and I was not about to sit down in restaurants alone. As with music, next time we will make a better effort to try the real "Nawlins" cuisine, the best of which can be found outside of the Quarter, I'm told. We did, of course, have cafe au lait and biegnets at Cafe Du Monde (twice).
As I bought a small trinket on Jackson Square, the shop keeper thanked me for supporting New Orleans. Several others said how glad they were that I (as a tourist) was there. I did not go to New Orleans to dwell on the tragedy of Kartina, but it is ever present. Locals talk about it all of the time, seem to need to share the experience. I knew the Quarter had remained untouched, but was shocked to see the water damage immediately outside if its borders. This tiny gem of a place was spared, and it feels like a miracle. It rained hard on one of our days there, and I saw Canal Street partially flood before my eyes. Such a fragile place, but so vivacious, it is hard to reconcile.
It was a wonderful trip, sort of a honeymoon for us. I experienced a few firsts, too. Having never been to a casino, we spent a little time in Harrah's. I was impressed! It is like a huge fancy arcade for grown-ups. Not at all interested in gambling, I blew $30 or so on a few slot machines, and quickly had my fill. But just to be there, see the place and the people, hear all the noise, feel the excitement, and possibly partake in the buffet, dine in a celebrity-chef owned restaurant or take in the show, it is well worth the trip inside. We happened to go into the central bar area of the casino at the moment The Saints won a game, and the crowd exploded! Back on Bourbon, we checked out a couple of strip clubs (a definite first) and found it to be a fun couples activity ('nuff said). Also, I had never been club-hopping, so we took care of that. I even managed to drag my husband onto a dance floor and bump and grind against him a bit. Bruce was even drunk at least once, which is a rare occurrence. Yeah, it was a great time.
I didn't do any of the tours I intended to do. I really need to see the Garden District, and explore a cemetery. I'd like to learn a little about Voodoo and see a temple (as part of a tour). And I should see a swampy area. I have to re-read Interview With the Vampire and find Louis and Lestat's haunts. I want to buy something from a local artist on Jackson Square. I still need to go shopping on Magazine Street. I can't wait to go back!
After four days and three nights of indulgence, it is nice to be home. I missed Kaya terribly, though she was much better off staying with my parents. This was not a trip for kids. And I missed my animals. So now its back to life as usual; time to pay the bills, do laundry and start looking for a new job. After a nap.
posted by Bridgett | 9:07 AM
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