Driving into New Orleans was both interesting and surreal. During the final five miles, I drove on floating interstate to cross Lake Pontchartrain and enter the city. It’s odd to visit a place where a massive tragedy occurred and see it through your own eyes. Chris captured my thoughts well when he said experiencing New Orleans for yourself made the world seem smaller. This isn’t just a place far away that exists only amid the world of network news and newspaper headlines; it’s a tangible place I can actually drive to.
As I headed towards downtown residual storm damage was apparent on a number of residences along the interstate. However, once I entered the downtown business district and French Quarter, signs of Katrina disappeared. We’ve primarily stayed and explored the more traditional city venues which are in good shape. Before we leave tomorrow, I’d love to visit some of the more hard-hit areas of the city, assuming they’re safe, to get a feel for the storm’s impact.
I picked up Chris (my younger brother with a 5” height advantage) at the airport on Saturday night. He’s done with school for the semester and will be joining me for the remainder of the trip. Spending the last four days without power due to ice storms, he was thrilled to leave the frigid confines of Kansas and escape to the South. We stopped at the hostel to check-in before hoping on a streetcar and heading downtown.
Bourbon Street is the craziest place I’ve been on my trip so far, and perhaps, during my life. I originally had a naive impression of the place as an old-fashioned street brimming with classy restaurants, bars and blues musicians; this view was was quickly dispelled. Located in the heart of the French Quarter, Bourbon Street makes Vegas look nearly as benign as a nursing home bingo evening. Free adult clubs line the streets with outdoor advertisements that would send your grandmother into cardiac arrest. While a few venues have blues musicians, the majority host grungy rock bands and R&B dance floors. With no open container laws, people are free to roam the streets gulping massive beverages and hopping from bar to bar.
Chris and I had a great night amid the mayhem. We sat down for a real cajun dinner at a local restaurant off Bourbon Street and enjoyed crocodile sausage and blackened catfish. We talked well after finishing and it was past midnight when we finally started exploring. We visited a number of bars including one which advertised free jazz music but instead hosted the most obnoxious rock band we’d ever seen. The singer seemed to be reading from the following script for musicians lacking any semblance of stage presence or charisma:
Step 1: Yell - “If you’re from New Orleans, make some noise!”
Step 2: Yell - “If you’re from out of town, make some noise!”
Step 3: Yell - “If you don’t give a #$%@#$, make some noise!”
Step 4: Proceed to yell garbled, unintelligible lyrics
Step 5: Return to Step 1 and repeat until both the dance floor and establishment are empty
We soon changed venues and managed to listen to see a few respectable musical acts before retiring to our hostel shortly after two.
This morning we hit up local coffee shop for a quick breakfast before heading out to explore on foot. We spent a busy day touring the Garden District, visiting a local art gallery, taking a ferry across the Mississippi and chatting with a street evangelist downtown.
Lucky Tenants
A Traditional New Orleans Balcony
After Crossing the Mississippi
"No! I ordered PINK underwear and you sent me white!"
Shadows and Light
Tomorrow we head for Austin and it will be the first time I’ll have a companion on the trip. We’ll see how much of a road hermit I’ve become over the last 4,000 miles.....
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