Sunday, April 23, 2006
New Orleans is another place of great contrast. We spent the day there yesterday. As we entered the area we saw building after building that had been underwater and completely damaged. It was beyond the term "whole neighborhoods;" it was everywhere. There was almost nothing that had been restored. There were a few "We’re Open" signs, but they definitely needed the sign. Underneath I-10, where we got off, we saw many cars with uplifted hoods and trunk lids and the flood had clearly trashed them. As we made the turn towards downtown we began to see improvement. The business area was up and running. Palm trees had been replanted and the city had been given a facelift. We headed for The French Quarter, where there was a festival, parked easily and began walking. By the end of the day we had walked all through the French Quarter and saw little evidence of destruction. We learned, from the proprietor of a photograph gallery, that the French Quarter is on high ground and was spared from the flooding. The early settlers chose this area because they realized this was the high ground.
It was a festival day in the Big Easy. Along with the thousands who had come to enjoy the day of music and festivity, we forgot about the trouble and had a great day. We listened to a jazz band in Jackson Park and sampled Creole cuisine. The band ended their set with a "second line" parading through the park with many enthusiastic followers. I’m still not sure what the term second line means, but perhaps it’s the line of players followed by the line of revelers. Anyway, it’s fun. We left the park and stopped in at the famous Café du Monde for a frozen café au lait and beignets. The Café Du Monde is famous for these beignets which are French donuts. Actually its fried dough covered with a mound of powdered sugar which sticks to the hot grease. They are sinful which is so appropriate for The Big Easy.
We walked up Decatur St. towards the French Market and on the way we saw Bubba’s Shrimp Company. We didn’t see Forrest Gump though. It was an experience in culture to walk through the French Market. It was booth after booth of sales of crafts and t-shirts and seafood and Creole cooking spices. It was kind of like the market we experienced in Charleston, SC only with a French flair and jazz music in the background. Right nearby was an open-air restaurant with a band so we sat and listened there for awhile. There were flowering bushes and benches, which added to the enjoyment. And then there was also the drunken hobo type guy that danced as he staggered through sitting down on benches beside rather frightened folk who had stopped to listen to the jazz.
We had reached the end of the French Quarter so we started back via the Riverwalk. We could watch the big tankers and tugs and even some Mississippi riverboats. There were artisans sitting on blankets showing and hoping to sell their artwork, and concessions with various Creole and Cajun cuisine and of course lot of beer. We passed through a few concert venues stopping there to listen for a while also. Now we had made a complete loop so we headed towards Royal St. where we thought the music might be more authentic New Orleans jazz. It was and I wished we had done that earlier because that was the best. That’s also when we met the photography gallery guy. He was very kind and shared a lot of history and stories of the flood. Along our trek we stopped in another gallery and the artist was actually there. His work was sculpture using a heavy wire mesh. It was quite beautiful and certainly unusual. We had quite a long conversation with him. He was down to earth and very pleasant. He showed us his technique and we learned a lot about him. He was impressed with our efforts to help with relief and asked us to write to him. After another conversation with Julius Robinson the proprietor of Robinson’s Antiques, we headed for our last goal – to see Bourbon St.
I wasn’t prepared enough for Bourbon St.. I knew it was the center of sin city, but I didn’t realize just how uncomfortable I would feel. We walked down the middle of the street, like everyone else, for about a block. That was all I could take. Everyone, it seemed, had a drink in hand as they walked and all around on both sides were purveyors of sin and debauchery. We made a quick left and headed for relief and supper.
Shortly after that we headed for home and had to drive through the devastation one more time. Anitarae kept exclaiming her disbelief and sadness over what she was witnessing. Had it not been getting dark I could not have kept her from another photo journal trip through the wasteland of homes and businesses. It was a long and tiring day that held many and various emotions, but at least we did see New Orleans.
New Orleans is another place of great contrast. We spent the day there yesterday. As we entered the area we saw building after building that had been underwater and completely damaged. It was beyond the term "whole neighborhoods;" it was everywhere. There was almost nothing that had been restored. There were a few "We’re Open" signs, but they definitely needed the sign. Underneath I-10, where we got off, we saw many cars with uplifted hoods and trunk lids and the flood had clearly trashed them. As we made the turn towards downtown we began to see improvement. The business area was up and running. Palm trees had been replanted and the city had been given a facelift. We headed for The French Quarter, where there was a festival, parked easily and began walking. By the end of the day we had walked all through the French Quarter and saw little evidence of destruction. We learned, from the proprietor of a photograph gallery, that the French Quarter is on high ground and was spared from the flooding. The early settlers chose this area because they realized this was the high ground.
It was a festival day in the Big Easy. Along with the thousands who had come to enjoy the day of music and festivity, we forgot about the trouble and had a great day. We listened to a jazz band in Jackson Park and sampled Creole cuisine. The band ended their set with a "second line" parading through the park with many enthusiastic followers. I’m still not sure what the term second line means, but perhaps it’s the line of players followed by the line of revelers. Anyway, it’s fun. We left the park and stopped in at the famous Café du Monde for a frozen café au lait and beignets. The Café Du Monde is famous for these beignets which are French donuts. Actually its fried dough covered with a mound of powdered sugar which sticks to the hot grease. They are sinful which is so appropriate for The Big Easy.
We walked up Decatur St. towards the French Market and on the way we saw Bubba’s Shrimp Company. We didn’t see Forrest Gump though. It was an experience in culture to walk through the French Market. It was booth after booth of sales of crafts and t-shirts and seafood and Creole cooking spices. It was kind of like the market we experienced in Charleston, SC only with a French flair and jazz music in the background. Right nearby was an open-air restaurant with a band so we sat and listened there for awhile. There were flowering bushes and benches, which added to the enjoyment. And then there was also the drunken hobo type guy that danced as he staggered through sitting down on benches beside rather frightened folk who had stopped to listen to the jazz.
We had reached the end of the French Quarter so we started back via the Riverwalk. We could watch the big tankers and tugs and even some Mississippi riverboats. There were artisans sitting on blankets showing and hoping to sell their artwork, and concessions with various Creole and Cajun cuisine and of course lot of beer. We passed through a few concert venues stopping there to listen for a while also. Now we had made a complete loop so we headed towards Royal St. where we thought the music might be more authentic New Orleans jazz. It was and I wished we had done that earlier because that was the best. That’s also when we met the photography gallery guy. He was very kind and shared a lot of history and stories of the flood. Along our trek we stopped in another gallery and the artist was actually there. His work was sculpture using a heavy wire mesh. It was quite beautiful and certainly unusual. We had quite a long conversation with him. He was down to earth and very pleasant. He showed us his technique and we learned a lot about him. He was impressed with our efforts to help with relief and asked us to write to him. After another conversation with Julius Robinson the proprietor of Robinson’s Antiques, we headed for our last goal – to see Bourbon St.
I wasn’t prepared enough for Bourbon St.. I knew it was the center of sin city, but I didn’t realize just how uncomfortable I would feel. We walked down the middle of the street, like everyone else, for about a block. That was all I could take. Everyone, it seemed, had a drink in hand as they walked and all around on both sides were purveyors of sin and debauchery. We made a quick left and headed for relief and supper.
Shortly after that we headed for home and had to drive through the devastation one more time. Anitarae kept exclaiming her disbelief and sadness over what she was witnessing. Had it not been getting dark I could not have kept her from another photo journal trip through the wasteland of homes and businesses. It was a long and tiring day that held many and various emotions, but at least we did see New Orleans.
Comments
i heard a piece on NPR about new Orleans surrounding neighborhoods. similar to your descriptions.
i always order cajun chicken wings. my favorite restaurant is Maxie's Supper Club. they claim it's authentic. i would love to try the real deal.