The flight was at 10:25 and I wanted to avoid any possible peak (sorry, 'rush') hour traffic so up and at it at 6:00. Did the once-over, as usual, of the hotel room. Thankfully that "I've left something behind" feeling is not as strong as it was every single time I left somewhere but there is the mandatory passport, ticket, credit card, camera and iPad check is done about three times. As long as I've got those, I'm okay.
Drive out to the airport. It's interesting at this time of day - all the revellers are sleeping and it's the city workers who are about. Arrive at the airport and go to the rental drop off. The car rental building is pretty much the size of Tullamarine airport - that's just the car rental building! Get on the mover to go to the airport proper. Through the check in and all that. Down to get some breakfast and a coffee. This airport is massive.
This is just the departures board!
So they start to board with the priority (ie, first class) people first. Why can't people listen to and follow announcements. The amount of regular Joes who see the line forming and just join on is ridiculous. They say a number of times, "priority tickets only boarding now" but it makes no difference. All those people have to stand to the side. The lady at the counter is surprisingly polite. I'd be screaming at them by now.
Onto the plane. And why does everyone not check their bags? The stuff they cram into the overhead lockers is ridiculous, takes waaaaay too much time and has them standing in the aisles for far too long.
Sitting down, waiting for them to taxi out. I look up the aisle and can see right out the front window! I can see the captain hitting his little buttons. Shut the door already! They're giving the "fasten seatbeltsm, ready for takeoff" speech. Guy in front decides now is the time to stand and get a book from the overhead locker.
And we're off...
And we're down. Thank goodness - only four flights to go.
Lady in purple can't quite wait till the fasten seatbelt light goes off and leaps up to get her bag from the overhead locker. Hurrah. She wins! And her prize - she gets to stand the longest in the aisle waiting to get off.
Here's Louis to greet us...
I go up to get a shuttle but they don't go to B&Bs so I get in a cab. It was just a wee bit scary. One of those where you look out the window, whistle internally, ignore the driving and hope you get there in one piece. We did and we're here and it's lovely.
I had been toying with the idea of doing a cemetery tour but decided to do a walking tour of the French Quarter instead. Chuck (B&B lovely host) had a recommendation for this. It was a private tour with Naif, who is a retired history teacher and so is full of information. It was excellent.
He came here to pick me up and we're off. We see two of the three house styles - the Creole cottage, which has no front door, the carriage would go in the side carriageway to a courtyard and you would enter from there - and the shotgun house, so named cos you could shoot a shotgun down the hallway and the bullet would exit the house at the other end without touching anything.
The third type is the terrace. Many of which have the wide balconies. Many have old slave quarters.
Naif gives me heaps of history about all the places - the fires, the nuns who were brought over to help control the settlers, who were prostitutes, murderers and other lowlife types who had been forced to settle over here. The nunnery that didn't catch fire because of the nuns' prayer. The Battle of New Orleans, led by Andrew Jackson where everything went wrong for the British. The buildings donated by a Spanish dude during the Spanish settlement time and his daughter who set up the park.
The quadroon balls, where ladies one quarter African American were presented by their mothers at balls where the rich Creole men would come and choose one for a mistress. He would set her up in a cottage and she'd be his mistress - half his stuff if he dies...
Up to see the Mississippi...
..which is a bit tides out.
A great piece of art along the hurricane wall.
In the portrait are Degas and a couple of slaves who bought their freedom and the Voodoo lady Marie Laveau, who was actually Catholic and 'may' have helped perpetuate her myth by putting 'curses' on people anonymously. She was the only person who could remove a voodoo curse.
Past the old markets and back through to the Jackson Square where there are random musicians just playing some tunes...
Great tour, both informative and very interesting. And Naif gave me a bottle of iced water (which was great - I had forgotten mine), an umbrella (it started to sprinkle a bit, for five minutes or so) and some Mardi Gras beads - very cool. He chose the Muse beads, they're from the daughters of Zeus and they are meant to represent the arts - which is ramdomly appropriate.
Now it's just on 3:30 and it's time for a late lunch/early dinner. Naif has suggested a couple of places to eat so I go into this one with open windows overlooking Jackson Square.
I had a standard Louisiana lunch - shrimp po boy which is healthy concoction of fried shrimp in a roll with mayonnaise, mustard, lettuce and tomato. (All those extras were on the side and I put them in...)
Although this just looks like a pile of chips...
While sitting here, a wedding went by. We had seen the wedding in the park earlier and were trying to work out if it was two women or a very feminine looking groom. Anyway, apparently a bridal party will parade around, preceded by a band. It was great and colourful and gone before I could get a photo.
After this, I went for a wander around. It is definitely a city to wander in, and people-watch. Went up to the old market for coffee and beignets - another thing Naif said was a big custom here.
The coffee has a bit of endive in it, a throwback to when there was a coffee shortage and they needed to stretch supplies a bit.
Beignets are a donuty type thing, absolutely covered in icing sugar and yummy. The waitress brought them over and growled $5.30. So I got out $5:30 out and gave it to her. She stood there and repeated $5:30. This went on a few times, she even got a pen and tried to write it on a serviette. She eventually got out the word 'tip', which I had forgotten about and she couldn't articulate. I reckon if you want your tip, learn how to speak English so I can give you one. Hate tipping anyway!
On the way back, another fantastic band...
Had a look down Bourbon Street on the way back. There are lots of people here, lots of pubs, not really my sort of place. Interesting, though.
Back to watch Modern Family. I have gained back one of the hours I lost on the way over.
Loving this Cliffy..........keep it coming! It's become our daily obsession!
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