Greetings everyone from Austin, TX; where candidly it’s hot as hell.  Despite my trek southwards during the midst of summer, I have thankfully been spared the worst weather-wise.  Nashville, Memphis and even New Orleans were quite nice for this time of year.  It is 95 degrees today in Austin, and walking around the city has left me in need of cold beverages—namely water and Gatorade!

I’ll cover Austin in a future post, as I’m only not quite done here yet.  Today, I wanted to cover a bit of my time in New Orleans.

I arrived on Thursday afternoon after a long drive through Mississippi (see previous post).  Thursday night was pretty low key, aside from running into Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger at Manning’s, a local sports bar owned by the Manning family (of football lore).  They, like me, were there to watch Game 2 of the NBA Finals.  I tried to get a picture, but the large gentlemen surrounding their table informed me that no photos were allowed while they were eating…despite the fact that food was nowhere in sight.  It wasn’t worth the argument, so no photo proof, but man did they look old!

I spent most of Friday walking around the French Quarter with two friends from Richmond.  They just so happened to be in town, and we ended up hanging out most of the weekend.  Not surprisingly, walking around the Quarter reminded me of my time in Paris, with little bistros (spelled bistreaux down here), narrow streets and beautiful courtyards.  We ducked into several antique shops and art galleries, .

We also found our way into several quintessential New Orleans haunts, including Pat O’Brien’s for a classic Hurricane (powerful), Café Du Monde for beignets (delicious), Acme Oyster Bar for po boys (greasy goodness), and The Old Coffeepot for the best seafood gumbo I’ve ever had (unbelievable).

Oh, and then there’s Bourbon Street.   Two eventful nights on one of the most famous streets in America were pretty unbelievable.  I was amazed at just how many people continued to pour into the street as the hours passed, even until very late into the night (or early morning…).  The cast of characters was also pretty outrageous, as to be expected. 

The drinking culture of the city was even more than I anticipated.  Everywhere we turned, hurricanes, hand grenades, and other alcohol-laden concoctions were thrown our way.  The place is undoubtedly a Disneyland for adults, with various strip clubs and "adult" establishments, smoke shops, and lax enforcement of open container laws.  All that said, I was astounded by the number of young children walking around, even late at night.  This is definitely a place where you come without children…

Moving on…the jazz music was pretty awesome, too.  There were few things more enjoyable than grabbing a beer Friday evening and listening to jazz at one of a wide variety of clubs along the street.  The musicians ranged widely in quality, but most were pretty good.  Watching folks enjoy it was equally entertaining. 

As I was walking around the French Quarter, I was struck by a number of things.  First, the blend of cultures is pretty amazing.  The juxtaposition of funky little art galleries next door to massive antique stores next to stores selling t-shirts proclaiming "I got Bourbon-faced on Sh*t Street" makes the mind race one second and ponder thoughtfully the next.  There's literally something for everyone there, and it's all tucked away into beautiful old row homes with amazing courtyards. 

It was also pretty wild to think about the fact that just a few years ago, much of this area was probably underwater, courtesy of Hurricane Katrina.  The thought of antique tables worth three times the national median income floating down Royal Street is crazy.  Despite this fact, there are few remaining signs of the damage, save for some "high water" markings on random doorways and buildings.

The last reflection which I'll share is that, for all of the "culture" I consumed--literally and figuratively--over the course of two and a half days, I didn't step foot in one museum or visit one historical place (assuming you don't call Bourbon Street a historical place).  Yes, these things most certainly exist in New Orleans--in fact, I understand that the World War II museum is pretty awesome.  I just didn't visit any of them. 

I pondered this for a while on my long drive to Texas on Sunday, and for a moment felt a bit sad; like I had somehow "missed" something.  After a while, though, I realized that I didn't actually miss anything (well, except for what I lost at the blackjack table...).  I came to take in the sights, sounds and feel of the city, and accomplished all of that and more.  And I had a blast along the way. 

I've been accused a time or three of taking life a bit too seriously at times.  I'm trying to get away from that a bit on this trip.  This particular weekend was most definitely helpful in that regard.  Focusing my time on literally doing nothing but having fun was a bit different...and very rewarding.  

As a friend who used to live there told me before I arrived, "pretty much all we do in New Orleans is eat and drink."  That was definitely my experience, and I wouldn't have changed a thing.

As the locals say... laissez les bon temps rouler!

DRB