It took two planes, thirteen hours and a breakneck taxi ride to arrive at the house my friends and I had rented in the Garden District. The drive from the airport showed that New Orleans is still reeling from the effects of Hurricane Katrina, I was expecting to see some signs of storm damage but not quite to the extent of what is actually still there. Trees along the freeway are strewn about the place and the general neglected look of most of the streets is a direct result. More harrowing are the spray painted crosses that remain on some of the houses where the National Guard came through checking for survivors of human or animal kind. As we reached the house, I noticed there was a huge log dangling from power lines above the pavement. The mind boggles as to how it got up there and why would they leave such a hazzard dangling? More devastation is evident pretty much wherever you go and I wont dwell on it too much as there is so much good stuff to talk about.
First day we headed straight for the infamous French Quarter to see what it was all about. It was hot, not stupid hot but humid, and warm enough for me to realise my skin tight black trousers and skimpy shirt combo were definitely the wrong choice of attire. I'm sure I'd read somewhere it was supposed to be cold this time of year? Wrong. I battled through best I could armed only with my sunglasses and a cold bottle of Barq's Root Beer for cooling purposes. We drove down St. Charles which is one of the main roads that runs through the Garden District, the Street Cars still run up and down this immense through fare and I was ecstatic to think I'd get to go ride in one and pretend to be in Street Car Named Desire. Elysian Fields was high on my essential destinations list. We drove into the French Quarter down Bourbon Street which is filled with strip joints, bars and band venues.
After finally finding a parking spot on Royal Street, we headed down towards Jackson Square on foot. The French Quarter is big, much bigger than I'd thought and stunningly beautiful to wander through. The houses are all squashed together but in elegant composition with balconies and ornate iron wrought fascia's adorning nearly every one. Some of the balconies have fans dangling from their ceilings which must serve to keep the residents cool on a particularly fiery summer's day. You can also spot the odd row of beads dangling from roofs and railings reminding you that this place was built with fun in mind. The tradition here is to throw beads to a lady on a balcony, usually at Mardi Gras time to receive a flash of bosom in return. Good eh? There were still lots of Christmas decorations and wreaths hanging about which all looked a bit out of place given the heat. It's what you're used to I suppose. The best decoration was a string of lights arranged to read 'Peace Y'all!'...
Within two minutes walking we came across our first street musicians. These dudes were a four piece jazz ensemble with a drummer, tuba player, guitar man and clarinet/vocal lady. The clarinetist had the lead, she sat down as she sang and played, man she could make her clarinet wail, I was shocked at how good they were. We stood and watched for a while as they went through a few standards including the groan worthy 'O When The Saints' which I proceeded to hear about a million times in a million different ways over the course of the trip. The best bit of their performance was a song about a happily married couple who were living their lives just fine until one night the husband was on the way back from a bar and experienced the misfortune of being struck by lightening, but not just any kind of lightening, this was jazz lightening... Following this unfortunate turn of events he found he could only talk in scat which made his wife terribly upset and she ended up leaving him. However, she got lonely, came back and learned to play Piano so they could communicate through music and then everything was ok. Genius!
Most of the streets have amazing shops lining them all filled with art, tat, clothes, booze or combinations of some/all of the previous. There are some excellent antique shops and reclamation clothes stores to search through, I found a battered jazz hat in one which I would have definitely bought had it been a shade bigger. I was only disappointed for the briefest of moments though as the next shop was one of those crazy goth shops like Hot Topic but darker. I got myself a couple of awesome Rock belts and came very close to getting some cowboy boots too. I love cowboy boots.
Lunch came round just in time as my feet were starting to ache and I was beginning to seriously overheat. Food options in New Orleans are mainly on the fried or unhealthy side, my aim was to eat as authentically as possible which meant Cajun and Creole cooking, yum! Your typical dishes are Gumbo (bowls of seafood and rice broth), Jambalaya (Rice with a jumble of other stuff), Po' Boy Sandwiches (or Poor Boy Sandwiches - a big sandwich), all very good and massively filling. I found the Gumbo to be a little bit on the boring side, but Jambalaya was a generally tasty, plus I convinced myself it was moderately healthy being rice based. Po' Boys ranged from being average to astonishing, if you can find a small place called 'Mahoney's' on Magazine Street I recommend you try the Steak Po' Boy with cheese, it was the best meal of the trip and we went in by pure accident. I have digressed, back to the lunch in question which was taking place in a restaurant a stones throw from Jackson square. I had a Muffuletta Sandwich which is another of their famed dishes you have to get while you're there and it was not bad at all. The local beer is brewed by Abita and they have various versions of it you can try. I had a couple of 'Festive’s' which were pretty good for American beer.
Following lunch we did a bit of a walking tour and found a few art exhibits that a coalition of local artists were putting on in different spots all over the city. I think it was called P1 or something, it was pretty cool. We carried on up and down the dreamy streets taking in the sounds and sights until we were very tired indeed and decided on heading back to the house. I picked up a local free paper called 'The Gambit' which carries the headline 'Where y'at?'. Its a weekly rag that contains all the local gig listings and all kinds of useful info about where to go and what to do, essential for the traveller with nights out in mind...
After freshening up we headed out for more food, some bars and the Blue Nile nightclub which is on Frenchmen Street. I was struck by the sheer darkness of the French Quarter at night, a lot of the street lighting is made up of victorian style gas lanterns and in the dead of night they don't kick out much light. They added to the atmosphere perfectly though and soon enough we were inside Blue Nile waiting for a local Trumpet man and his band to take the stage.
.jpeg)
Blue Nile is a bit of a dump and I believe it experienced some severe flooding at the hands of Katrina so the fact that its still open is a bonus. The toilets were hideous, but I had an amusing experience in one. As I entered I was immediately struck by the heavy air of a room filled with dubious tobacco smoke, someone was smoking jazz cigarette's and I didn't have to look too far to find the source. Some shady looking dude was standing away from the door puffing away and singing 'I can see clearly now the rain has gone' quite joyfully. I tried to look uninterested and went for a cubicle but the toilet was small and he was fast, he struck out a hand still clutching his joint and said 'You want some my friend?' I declined, 'suit yourself', he said in a drunken southern accent and then he left. I finished my tinkle and made for the exit, but just as I stepped through the door, a group of women walked out of the ladies which was right next to the men's. My opening of the door must have stirred the smoke because one of them exclaimed 'I can smell Mary Jane!' and eyeballed me as if I was the culprit! I tried to protest my innocence but I don't think she was having any of it, luckily she was just a regular punter so I shuffled off to reclaim my beer and find my companion to recount the story. As I took my place and turned round I realised the band were going on stage and was shocked to note that the lead singer had been the guy in the loo’s! Bloody outrage I thought. To my delight the final track of the night was 'I can see clearly now...', he sang 'reefer' rather than 'rain' a couple of times towards the end of the song, I kid you not. A couple of hours and about twelve american sized beers later, we were in a cab and heading back to 4th and Baronette. It had been excellent fun all round.
Next day we drove about an hour outside New Orleans to see a couple of Plantations. The fist one was called Laura, we took a tour round the old Plantation House and grounds which still have four old shacks where the slaves used to live. The last of these poor fellows were there as recently as 1977! It's an eye opening tour, I didn't know much about this part of American history so I was enthralled from start to finish. You must go.
The second plantation 'Oak Alley' was much more grand to look at but the tour sucked. The tour guides are all dressed up in cheesy period costume for a start but they did serve a good Mint Julep which is Bourbon and minty water on ice, I had two. The most impressive part of this particular plantation is the alley of 300 year old Oak trees which run from the front of the house all the way down to where the levee used to be. The levee is a lot higher now but back in the day the oaks were supposed to channel the breeze straight from the Mississippi river and into the house. Bet it didn't work, looks impressive though, they are massive trees. More food was then consumed and we headed back to base to freshen up and head into town for live music and cocktails.
New Years Eve saw an influx of hundreds of American Football fans all heading into town for a big game called the Sugar Bowl. This fixture happens every year on 2nd Jan apparently. If i'd known about it before we got there I might have bought some tickets just for the atmosphere. I'm not a big fan of American sports though, especially not the football kind so we went about our business trying to ignore the millions of youths drinking their Hurricane's and getting crazy drunk way too early in the day. It all happens on Bourbon Street and it was packed, we wandered from bar to bar drinking beers and picking up portable cocktails called Hand Grenades, bright green concoctions which cost eight bucks and tasted properly alcoholic. It didn't take long before we were loaded up and ready for the big moment. It was at this point that I suddenly realised the concentration of Police. They were everywhere, on horse back, in buggies and they even had portable viewing towers that they'd erected for the night, it felt a bit oppressive but everyone was in a pretty good mood and I didn't see any badness going down.
As Midnight approached we chatted with a huge variety of American folks who were thrilled to find a couple of merry Brits to chat to, we celebrated New Years and proceeded to get progressively more drunk until we ended up back in some hotel for a night cap with a bunch of kids from Alabama. Looking back on this, I'm shocked it all went so well, and my advice to anyone who doesn't know what to do for New Years eve, go somewhere, anywhere, just don't stay local and do the easy thing. Its a waste of time, its taken me 30 years to work it out but I'm thankful I finally have.
The following days saw us trek to Lafayette Cemetery No.1 which is an above ground graveyard, the Mardi Gras museum, hundreds more shops, the Gallier house which Anne Rice made famous in 'Interview with The Vampire', the Voodoo Museum, a Glass blowing workshop and the Ersuline Convent. It was an intense but awesome trip. I think I would have liked to do a bit more chilling out but there was no time and I wanted to pack in as much as possible. I really hope I get to go back there one day. Its definitely in my top ten spots to go around the world.
Final darkly amusing observation - I found a fascinating newspaper article in one of the local rags in which 14 people had apparently died in separate incidents on the same street after local residents had resurfaced their long dilapidated road surface. Police said drivers weren't prepared for the transition from cracked to smooth tarmac and crashed from shock. New Orleans has got to sort out the state if its roads and sidewalks. I've never seen either in worse condition in such abundance!
.jpeg)
