January 9, 2005 - New Orleans, Louisiana

On to New Orleans, or, as it was pronounced locally, "Nawlins". We drove into the old French Quarter and after some fumbling around we parked in extraordinarily expensive public parking right by the riverfront, $4 an hour! I did see some free on-street parking, but it was limited to 2 hours and we knew we wanted to spend the day there. Unfortunately, a heavy fog had rolled in during the night and persisted all day long, which greatly obscured the view of the river and discouraged us from taking a river cruise as we had wanted.

Lloyd and Sandy considered taking a horse tour, and there were certainly a lot of those available, but in they end they opted for riding out and back on the short trolley line for $1.25 each. We opted, as anyone reading these chronicles might predict by now, to walk through the town. Bicycling would have possibly been another good way to see the area as the traffic, while dense, typically moved slowly and was on the lookout for wayward pedestrians, but walking really gives you time to stop and savor a place like the French Quarter.

Given that we had about 4 hours, we could wander around the French Quarter to our heart’s content, and that was a lot of fun. In particular, the beautiful old French architecture of the 18th century buildings was just wonderful. Many of the buildings featured delicate wrought ironwork filigree on second story balconies, and from a distance it looked rather like a black lace veil on the façade. Almost always the filigree was painted black, except for one instance where it appeared to be painted a light green.

The architectural appearance of these buildings was unique partly due to these graceful balconies. Often these balconies were decorated either with flower boxes, ferns, and similar greenery, or else rather gaudy ribbons, beads, or other decorations. I imagine that the gaudy decorations are more predominant during Mardis Gras, but since this was early January I believe I was seeing leftover Christmas or New Year decorations, but I wasn’t sure.

But there were other interesting aspects of the French Quarter. The west end of Bourbon Street, for example, was a real honky-tonk row of loud, glitzy bars, but the eastern end seemed more subdued, quiet, and residential. Many businesses had nicely carved and painted signboards out front, which I found to be much more tasteful than neon signs.

But aside from the buildings and the decorations, the French Quarter had a unique ambiance due to a very varied mix of people. The main through street was thronged with street performers ranging from musicians to mimes to tap-dancing urchins. The fence around Jackson Square was used by the itinerant artists to display their wares, ranging in style from pseudo-Impressionist to starkly modern. People in various stages of inebriation or drug intoxication also occasionally wandered by and homeless folks begged here and there, usually very politely—Monika was serenaded by one guy on the Riverwalk who made up rap-style lyrics as he sang to her. Elements of this mix could be positive or negative depending on one’s viewpoint, but it certainly made for a lively city scene.

The weather this close to the southern coast was mild, and I particularly enjoyed the fact that a few flowers were still blooming in the gardens in Jackson Square and behind the church at the north end of the square. It was a touch of spring, as it were, and the fog had condensed into beautiful dewdrops on the delicate blossoms, giving them an unusual shape and sparkle. The Jean Lafitte National Historical Site also had some struggling hibiscus plants in the inner courtyard, plus a very nice timeline exhibit inside that summarized New Orleans’ history and cultural mix.

As it approached 3 p.m., we hurried back to one of the stores near the French Market building to complete our shopping. Monika finally found the masks she had been looking for at a price she was willing to pay--$3 each. We also found an artistic print mounted on an old slate shingle that we both liked and we took that with. There were, of course, many antique shops scattered throughout the French Quarter, and it was fascinating to see the art, stained glass, and bronze sculptures for sale in those. All in all we enjoyed our perambulation around the old district.

We all joined up back at the truck shortly after 3 o’clock and drove back to camp were we just sat and chatted for an hour about everything we all had seen and done in New Orleans. Lloyd and Sandy had taken the tour of the Urseline Convent whereas we had only looked at it from the outside while walking by, so they clearly had seen some things we had not, and vice-versa.

Finally getting hungry enough to stir, Lloyd drove us around in a kind of random search pattern looking for a good restaurant. Curiously, despite the fact that most of the nice places were closed on a Sunday evening he did manage to find a really nice restaurant called “Michael’s” between Slidell and Lake Pontchartrain. We had an absolutely marvelous meal there—all four entrees were delicious and spiced in a really different but tasty manner. Returning to camp after dinner, the fog was so thick that I was really using the GPS to help decide where I should go straight and where I should turn, and it worked like a charm. Monika downloaded and turned the pictures while I brought the journal up to date, after which we burned a disk with all our pictures and the journal on it for Lloyd and Sandy to take home, and then we turned in turn for the night.