Day 19 - Home of Pirates, Drunks, and Whores . . .

(Skip to 15:40 for the song)

New Orleans!

On Monday, I set course for tacky, overpriced, souvenir stores, and my first visit to the Big Easy.

The drive there from Baton Rouge was surprisingly beautiful. I just can't get over the rich greenery that lines the roads.

I drove through the downtown and saw Tulane University where a friend of mine might be going for graduate school. Then, the tall buildings and modern architecture gave way to two-story buildings and classic facades.

I used an app on my phone to find close, decently priced parking (if I'd parked across the street, it would have been twice as expensive) and found myself right in the middle of the French Quarter.

Not knowing exactly what to expect, I'd done some research the night before. I can't say I wasn't prepared when the FAQ for the area includes questions like: Isn't the French Quarter dirty? and What's that smell?

My first destination was a place to eat. As I searched, I used the same strategy from Tucson (walking for a bit and ducking into shops for free air conditioning). I would try to find the air vent and stand under it looking very interested in purchasing whatever was around me.

One of the first shops had a mountain of items I don't need because I have one already -- passed down to me from my maternal grandmother. My guess is that the vast majority of tourists have no idea what they are, as it's not written anywhere and it took me twenty questions to figure out what it was when my mom presented it to me.

50,000,000 points if you can tell me what these are
(Put your hand down, Mom)

I had a cafe in mind, the Green Goddess, as I read that it had some nice vegetarian options. Along the way I saw some sites. 

Live art making

"Witty" t-shirts

A living portrait on a smoke break

I found the alley where the restaurant lives, but there was some construction blocking the way. I walked around to the other side of the alley and was stopped by police officers who had blocked off and were guarding the area.

On my way to what I thought was going to be my lunch spot, I had passed a different cafe that looked interesting. However, trying to find it again proved rather difficult. I didn't remember the name of the restaurant nor the street it was on, and ended up wandering for another hour or so.

I wasn't able to find it as all I could remember is that it was next to one of the yelling guys. There were guys yelling that I should eat at their restaurant (no thanks, I don't want oysters), guys yelling that I should drink their drinks (no thank you, I don't want to drink in the middle of the afternoon), and guys yelling that I should see their naked women (no thanks, I have one of my own).

I ended up going to the Somethin' Else Cafe, as I heard someone behind me say it was pretty good.

I had no problem finding something delicious to eat, but I think "vegan" doesn't mean what they think it means.

Mozzarella AND mayonnaise?

My friends Kris and Deana/Dina just returned from a vacation in New Orleans and I received some tips from them while I was standing in the middle of the street wondering where to go next.

I started by looking for the voodoo shop they recommended, but after walking up and down the block twice, I couldn't find it (I think my internal GPS is on the fritz). I did find the Voodoo Museum and figured that was good enough.

In memoriam for a python 

An alter to Mary Kay?

Voodoo dolls

They make a point of saying that most dolls
are used for "love, healing, success, and money" . . . 

. . . then this says it's important to keep the doll hidden
or the target will take action to reverse it.
Why would the target want to reverse all that good stuff? Hmm?

I didn't ask if it was for sale,
but it looks like someone made an offer(ing)

This dude is apparently terrified of frogs

You'd think having the head of an alligator, they'd be buddies,
but maybe they have a reptile vs. amphibian thing going on

Further wandering led me to a great little paper and pen shop called Papier Plume. When I arrived, there was a gentleman in there with a pronounced twang who was interested in getting some personalized stationery. It became clear that there was a language barrier between him and the shop owner, a genuine Frenchman. 

At one point the owner asked he'd like the heading centered and the customer replied, "No, I don't want it scented."

Once they'd worked out the kinks, I spent a good deal of time with the owner talking about pens and ink. They had some beautiful feather dipping pens and inkwells. I liked the design below but the burgundy feather I liked was a little rumpled. 

He went to the back to find another burgundy feather pen and it too was a little less than perfect. When I asked if he had another one, he just looked at me and said, "Shoshana, it's natural." I don't think he's going to follow through and have a talk with the bird for me.

After I came to terms with the imperfection of nature, I picked out a couple inks to match. He mentioned that all the inks were mixed on site. I have a ton of inks at home, but the colors were so deep and rich, they perfectly complimented the grandeur of my new pen. Plus, I had a few more inches of space left in my car.

As we were completing the sale, I asked about the production of ink. I was wondering if he had a bunch of powders that he just mixes with water or whether it was a more complicated process. It turns out that it is a MUCH more complicated -- and political -- process.

Apparently, ink walks a fine line between needing to be safe for paper, pens, and people as well as being beautiful, long-lasting, and color-fast. Great sorrow has befallen those who have been victim to a bad batch of ink. Formulas are made from precise concoctions of chemicals and even using tap water can make the ink go all brown and furry.

White is the hardest of all inks and the formulas seem to be constantly changing as lobbyists get laws altered to help themselves and hurt the competition.

So, yes, the inks are mixed there, but there's no way he's getting into the ink making business. (And I guess now, neither am I.)

It is an interesting mix of upscale, chain, and tchotchke shops. In honor of my friend Sarah, I stopped at Lush and was fiddling with what I thought was soap when one of the sales people came over to explain it to me. It is actually a big ol' hunk of cocoa butter that smells good and has magic beans in it. It's solid lotion.

At the checkout counter, I mentioned that unless they had explained it to me, I totally would have gone home and used it like soap. The woman behind the counter said, "Oh no, you don't want to do that. It will seal the dirt in!" So, for the public good, if you notice that you are just as dirty after your shower as before, you may be using your lotion as soap.

At this point, I'd spent all afternoon walking around and I decided it was time to wrap up my visit and head back before dark. I am sure that the population and dynamic of the French Quarter change dramatically at night, but I wasn't interested in drinking and it seems like something best experienced with a buddy. (Also, I was terrified of theft even in broad daylight. I'd already stuffed two credit cards and my passport card in my bra. I would have stowed my driver's license as well, but it would have been a little awkward as every time I used my credit card, they asked for ID.)

I took one more lap around and saw some more sites.

Lagniappe is one of the words in my word quilt,
I bought a postcard there and found out they don't take it literally

Pretty

More "witty" t-shirts
(I'm really hoping that one on the left doesn't come in kid sizes)

Be sure to file your receipt under "G" for "gumbo"

Aw Kris, if y'all had stayed longer,
you could have seen the Flaming Lips

My last stop was another K&D recommendation. I don't usually drink coffee, but I understand that a visit to the Cafe Du Monde is a must. I got an iced cafe au lait and an order of beignets (after quickly doing a Google search to makes sure I was pronouncing it correctly).

As I was waiting, I noticed the mountains of remaining powdered sugar at abandoned tables after beignets had been eaten.

This would have been an awesome picture of a pigeon pecking
at the plate in the background, if another tourist hadn't forgotten that cameras
have a zoom button and tried to get really close to it.
Please use your imagination.

My lasting impression is that the French Quarter was similar to Las Vegas in ways that I didn't like, but it had a lot more charm to make up for it. It really is another world in the middle of a modern city.

I didn't get to the garden district or the museum exhibit of the Katrina disaster and relief -- but they are on the list for next time. 

I just need to make sure I leave town before I start sounding like Bobby Hill.

Wednesday, I'm off to Tallahassee!

Odometer Start: 38476

Odometer End: 38625
Miles Driven Today: 149
Miles Driven Total: 4788
Today In/Around: New Orleans, LA
Tomorrow: Tallahassee, FL
States Visited: 9 (Washington, Oregon, California, Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Louisiana)
Birthdays Today: 1.5 (Happy birthday, Micah! And it's exactly 6 months until Christmas)