I decided to do a day-by-day journal. Afterward, I've included a synopsis of my general impression of the trip. However, the journal entries give a much better impression of the events of the trip. I hope to have pictures developed within the coming weeks, and will post a few choice shots if possible. Enjoy!
JULY 3, 2000
Notable firsts:
First true vacation by ourselves
My first time flying
Our first time going to New Orleans
Audra and I left early 7/3/00 (Monday) on a Delta Comair jet out of Harrisburg International. It took us to an exchange flight in Cincinnati. My first flying experience was uneventful. No vomiting, or screams of terror. The main problem was the noise, which I thought to be surprisingly loud for a modern aircraft. I was expecting more soundproofing. Earplugs to the rescue!
I noticed that some of the stewardesses really have it together - very polite, but also very serious and no-nonsense. I admire the job they do. Demonstrating the seat buckles, and the oxygen masks must become tiresome after so many flights. The peanuts were just as good as everyone says they are, but I did not eat mine on the plane, choosing instead to hoard them for snacks later in the trip. Over all, the experience was pretty much like a flying bus, with more noise and more people.
The exchange flight from Cincinnati to New Orleans was a slightly larger Delta plane, a Boeing 737. I got the window seat and was able to see the back of the wing and engine. Although it was constructed of solid metal, it looked pretty skimpy. The rivets looked like they were going to pop out, and I was surprised to see the engine area is actually composed of many plates of metal instead of one. But it seems to have held up pretty well.
We arrived at New Orleans International Airport very quickly (just over an hour), got our luggage, and within minutes located our ride to the Hotel. The travel package we got included a shuttle to the hotel. The driver was pretty sharp and gave us some info about the area, and even bought us a drink (water) when we got low on gas and had to stop at a gas station. We arrived at the hotel, The Monteleone by 2:30 and were ready to begin our adventure.
We were preparing to shower when two hotel attendants greeted us in our room. They brought us a complementary bottle of champagne and some chocolate covered strawberries from our travel agent. These were totally unexpected. Half a bottle of champagne later, we were finally ready to hit the town.
Our first night in New Orleans we just settled, did some browsing, and dug into the city's mood. We had dinner at Landry's, a reasonable place to catch a meal. Watch out for the huge shrimp/crab stuffed jalapeno poppers. They turned out to be my downfall later in the week. At Cafe Du Monde was had beignets, the local treat that is a square funnel-cake-like dough with lots of powdered sugar.
The other half of the bottle of champagne didn't go to waste, having been finished off upon our return. You would think we would have been up late, but we conked out fairly early, no later than midnight.
JULY 4, 2000
In the morning we went to the French Market which is located on the Mississippi River side of the French Quarter. The market is divided into three main sections, one for trinkets and clothing, one for produce, and one for restaurants and indoor shops. In the center of the produce and food area was a huge display of hot sauces.
Now, when I say huge, I mean that there was enough hot sauce there to blow the ass off of an entire country - or possibly - planet. There were more different types of hot sauces than I've ever seen anywhere, even at the biggest super-grocery stores. Sauces with names like "Blow Your Ass Off", "Burn in Hell", "Ass Killer" ranging in colors from green to orange, to dark red and black. They even had a stand set up where you could taste the various sauces with pieces of popcorn. Like an idiot, I tasted the "The Hottest Fucking Sauce". I immediately needed to drink water (which made it worse), and for the next half-hour proceeded to have trouble talking as my mouth caught fire. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I am crazy about hot foods, but this was past my limit.
Still recovering, we walked the entire length of the French Quarter, down along the river to the Aquarium of the Americas and the IMAX theatre. We saw a 2-D IMAX presentation about King Tut. Then, in the aquarium we got to pet a small shark, and some starfish (didn't get to taste them though). The aquarium and rainforest habitats were pretty neat.
After being refreshed in the cool of the theatre and aquarium, we proceeded with our walk down to the Riverwalk Mall where we did some window shopping and had lunch. I got the crab and crawfish over angel hair pasta and shrimp bisque at one of the food stands. It was good, for mall food, but later contributed to some digestive problems that I will forgo describing here.
In the evening we rode the St. Charles streetcar (remember the trolley on Mr. Rodgers) into the Garden District. There was a guy talking to himself and using profanity, quite loudly, not too far from us near the back of the trolley. I am now convinced that every major city has at least one of these guys. I've run into them in New York, Philly and Vegas. Of course they all start in Hazleton to begin with, and move to the bigger cities - but that is just a theory. But besides him, the people we ran into were nice throughout the day.
Later, as we were deciding on where to eat we heard a Cajun/Bluegrass string playing an impromptu version of Black Sabbath's "Iron Man" with banjo, violin and guitar. The band was playing inside Margaritaville, which is where we decided to eat. The old band tore down and a new band began to set up while we ordered. I learned that Jimmy Buffet is very good to the local musicians, and brings in many different bands every day.
The food was excellent, and the service was great. Our waiter, Co-Co, was exceptional in his story telling ability and was very laid back. As an appetizer we tried the alligator tail. I reasoned that it was white meat and therefore suitable for my semi-vegetarian diet. The 'gator was a bit chewy, prepared in a spicy, breaded manner, but very good. It was similar to chicken, but more like lobster in the consistency. My main dish was a catfish po-boy. Yummy. Of all the places we would later go to eat, this was the first of only three I would vote to return to a second time.
After dinner we did some walking around the French Quarter.
Mimes are a funny thing. I think this was the first place I really saw so many of this breed of performance artist, and such a variety of them. Of particular interest were the silver-faced mimes, both male and female, that would jump out at you, and then freeze in place. In NY or Philly, that would be a good way to get a punch in the mouth. But as fun as it might be, who would really want to hurt a mime? OK, maybe it would be cool...
Before going in for the night we stopped at Royal Blend coffee shop on Royal St, not too far from our hotel. The atmosphere outside was very relaxing, a sharp contrast to the noise on Bourbon St.
JULY 5, 2000
We decided to hit Royal Blend for a morning pick-me-up. We proceeded once again down Royal St. to check out some shops we noticed the day before. Our walk took us eventually to the Historic Tours of the Cabildo, the Presbytere and the Old US Mint and Jazz Museum.
We also visited the main Voodoo Museum, which was fairly disappointing. Despite the appearance of an honest attempt at setting the record straight about Voodoo, the museum seems to be nothing but a tourist trap. It really didn't answer many questions. The displays were unaccompanied by any true educational material, or by any academic descriptions that could shed some light on the religion. Still, the large albino boa was pretty cool.
We were presented with the option of watching an hour long documentary about Voodoo that - like the Haunted History tour we took later - could have been viewed on Discovery or TLC. The video raised more questions than it answered, and in places was so poorly produced that it contradicted itself. Being fairly open minded about various religions, I really thought I would have come away with a better understanding. But I think I'm just as confused as ever about this thing they call Voodoo.
We had lunch at a restaurant called the French Market -
which is not to be confused with the market itself. The bathrooms
were icky, and I noticed that one of the waiters used the bathroom
without washing his hands. Tisk, tisk. I don't actually recall
what I had, so it must not have been that wonderful.
That night we did one of the Haunted History tours. This was a
purely historic account with no theatrics, so I was a bit disappointed.
It was actually more like guided exercise around the Quarter.
Mid-way through, we got to stop at an old blacksmith's shop that
is now a bar. Closest thing to a Star Wars Cantina that I've ever
been in. Very dark but with candles on each table. Great lighting.
Piano man at the bar doing covers of "House of the Rising
Sun" and other oldies (not exactly a Cantina Band, but good).
As the tour continued we saw some places that Anne Rice wrote about, or where "Interview..." was filmed. The other ghost stories can be found on most of the Discovery or TLC programs about the paranormal, so my advice would be to skip this activity and save yourself some money and some walking unless you are a real ghost nut. And don't be fooled by the brochures - the one we went to had a picture of a vampiresk dude in top hat as a guide. What we got was a casually dressed middle-aged woman who proved to be Wiccan (or some other nature religion) when she bade us a good night in the typical Wiccan manner. Blessed Be... yadda , yadda, yadda.
Afterward we had dinner at Felix's, a moderately priced operation that we dubbed the New Orlean's equivalent of Ferdinand's. The proportions weren't great, but the food was good and the service reasonable.
JULY 6, 2000
After all the walking we did the previous few days, Audra began to have problems with her feet. It was also getting warmer. So we decided to spring for a bus pass. By now we had already walked most of the Quarter, so there wasn't much point in doing it again. We got on the bus and headed to Magazine Street to find a Tibetan Rug shop that I read about. We found the place soon enough, but the rugs started at about $1000. As I walked into the Tibetan display, I had to ask "Is it OK if we walk on these?"
Having been the purchaser of no rugs, we continued down Magazine through some of the artsy-fartsy shops. It's kind of like Jim Thorpe, except flat and more expensive. The find of the day was a jewelry shop called Sabai that sells Tibetan Buddhist art and artifacts. Picked up a nice set of Tingshaw Bells from Nepal made by Buddhist monks.
We took the bus back to the edge of the Garden District, which appeared to be the artsy-fartsy metropolitan section. We were going to have lunch at Emeril's, but his main restaurant was being renovated, so we went to Nola in the French Quarter. The service was impeccable. This was the second place I would return to again if given a choice. Of the recent non-Eastern meals I've had, this really kicked some ass. Jumbo shrimp over a funky pasta with portabellas. I really don't know what all was in it, but it was yummy. The bill wasn't so yummy, but it turned out to be worth it, and we really didn't need to eat much for the rest of the day.
After lunch we lumbered on down to the wax museum. I wasn't
overly impressed. Besides admiring the art of it all. I guess
it just wasn't multimedia enough for me. One of the characters,
a wounded soldier, had an air pouch placed in his chest that gave
the impression he was breathing. Truth be told they did look pretty
real, and I would have shit my pants had one of them jumped off
the platforms.
Our bus pass allowed us to ride the Riverside Trolley as well,
so we took that back down to the Riverwalk Mall to pick up a coupon
book that we forgot to get previously. We also did a little shopping
and watched the guys at the fudge shop do a song and dance about
the glories of fudge while they made fudge in front of us. The
Discovery Channel store was an interesting stop, bringing an end
to our mall experience.
We then proceeded back to the hotel for a much-needed nap.
That night we went out and did some more walking and a little barhopping. O'Brian's, a fairly white-collar, white-skin bar was our first pick. Audra ordered a Mint Julip and I ordered a Fuzzy Leprechaun. Her drink had enough kick for three people, but my Fuzzy Leprechaun was a wee bit weaker and mostly ice. Of course I was disappointed, and even if the drink did have a wimpy name, I was expecting a little more kick... or fuzz. I also didn't like the ordering policy, whereby they very sneakily charge you for the glasses upfront ($2 a piece) with a return policy on the way out the door if you don't want them. When you leave you can get your money back, but it's an extra hassle to go to the bar and turn in the glasses. Marketing, yes.. good marketing, no. One should be able to order a Fuzzy Leprechaun without being further harassed about returning the glass.
From there we proceeded to a bar called Touche, which pretty much sucked too. We went to Pere Antoine's for a snack and called it a night.
JULY 7, 2000
Very warm day. We arranged to be picked up by one of the swamp tour companies in the morning. Around 10:30 a large air-conditioned shuttle bus painted with alligators and swamp scenery picked us up in typical tourist fashion. Cypress Swamp Tours was about 20 minutes outside of New Orleans out on in bayou country.
We arrived at the shop and got a look at some swamp creatures like raccoons, snakes, giant grasshoppers (5-6 inches long). Then we boarded a skiff with about 25 other tourists and began our tour down the bayou guided by one helluva-Cajun gent who talked our ears off the entire time of the tour. Of course, his job as a guide was to talk. But due to the tangents, and his accent you sometimes had to stop and think "What the hell is he talking about?!"
Eventually we saw some small and medium sized alligators, turtles, blue heron, various other birds and some massive dragonflies. To bring the alligators closer, the guide would throw them marshmallows (not small children as the tour brochure promised). To really get them going he would stick some chicken on a rope and dangle it above the water near the boat. None of this impressed me as much as the antics of the Crocodile Hunter, but it was really nice to see these beautiful animals in their own habitat.
The best line was when the tour guide spotted three turtles and said "Yeah, that's about enough for a soup." This innate ability to spot, measure, and imagine the recipe for wild reptiles is certainly beyond me - a skill I am eager to learn. Maybe I can start with fruit.
After getting back on the bus to the city, we decided to go to Tricou House on Bourbon St. for the all you can eat boiled shrimp. I was actually hoping for crawfish, but the shrimp were good. We were attended by what appeared to be a vertically challenged homosexual serving staffperson (i.e. gay midget waiter). I say "appeared to be" because it wasn't exactly clear if he was totally gay, or completely a midget. It was not the least bit troublesome, and I only mention him because of his uniqueness. But in New Orleans, this all fits into the scenery as fairly mundane, if not completely normal.
I reached my pain in the ass threshold after one and a half servings of shrimp. Since we had a long day we went back to the hotel for a nap.
After resting, we went on the riverboat Natchez, down the Mississippi past an oil refinery, Navy vessel and some cargo ships. The live jazz band sounded like they were right out of the 50's, but of course looked very 90's with all of the modern equipment a jazz band can have.
After the steamboat ride Audra wanted to see if we could find the pirate ghost on Jackson square. It felt like some corrupted Scooby Doo episode. While hanging out there, a poet tried to read to us (Shagggggyyyy!!!). Audra promptly gave him our sob story about how many bad poets we've seen at open mikes, and managed to shoo him away. I kind of felt bad for him, but on reflection he was pushy, and the last thing we needed on our vacation was a pushy poet. He was trying to sell us copies of his very small, handmade, pocket-sized poetry books for a price, which we didn't even discover, because our tactics easily frightened him.
Having seen no ghost, we went to the Royal Blend for dessert. It was during this visit that I was charged the first of what would turn out to be three varying prices for an iced tea at this apparently poorly managed outfit. While the atmosphere was our favorite of all the places (including the 4" cockroaches crossing the outside floor), the pricing was a bit hooky and the staff was only moderately polite.
JULY 8, 2000
The morning featured more window-shopping and then a late lunch at Angelis. This is the third place I would definitely go back to if I had to choose an eatery. Totally great food, good proportions for excellent prices. It was kind of nouveux Greek or something. Very yuppie, but very yummy. In fact, probably the best deal overall.
By now I started to notice how many people were carrying cell phones and video cameras. While I did bring my cell phone to town, I left it at the hotel, and we didn't have any laptops or camcorders with us. The camcorders of the other tourists began to get intrusive after a while. I am probably in at least a half dozen New Orleans home movies right now, possibly more. Look for me in the background with the green backpack and the samurai Hawaiian shirt. At one point, a guy on a trolley was filming practically behind the driver's shoulder. If it wasn't for that Southern hospitality, I'm sure the driver would have opened a can of Whoop-Ass (which you can buy at several of the local shops).
In the late afternoon we went back to the hotel for a rest,
only to be interrupted by the fire alarms and a notice to evacuate
the building. The entire building was evacuated due to a bomb
threat. Three fire engines and a fire marshal's truck pulled up
within 10 minutes, and we were once again out under the hot sun.
After about 20 minutes they let us back in. Luckily nothing was actually wrong with the building. That evening we did some late night swimming in the hotel's pool on the roof, overlooking the city. French people surrounded us. These particular French people were loud, boisterous swimmers, so it didn't make for a very romantic evening, but was nonetheless refreshing.
JULY 9, 2000
Sunday was pretty much uneventful since it was time to check out and prepare for our trip home. We were picked up in a Lincoln Towncar and shuttled to the airport. Our plane went first to Atlanta, GA. It was a bigger plane than the previous ones we had been on.
We had a two-hour layover in GA at the very large Atlanta Airport. We had to shuffle ourselves around a couple of times and were forced to gobble down dinner at an airport Burger King. After some of the meals we had earlier in the week, this was truly a step down.
After our exchange flight arrived, we sprinted to Allentown to drop some people off, and then returned to Harrisburg in the evening.
Overall Impressions/Comments
New Orleans is a great place for a vacation or honeymoon, there is no doubt. Since our last big vacation was Las Vegas, I found myself constantly trying to compare everything to Vegas. But it's really not a fair comparison. They are two different animals. It also was nothing like Maine.
I was very impressed by the local hospitality for most of our stay. There were a few rude tourists, and a couple restaurant people that were a bit snotty, but the rest of the populace was quite friendly.
Bourbon Street was very loud. For me, married, a Buddhist, fairly down-to-earth, Bourbon St. offered little excitement, and was actually just plain obnoxious. I was nearly pick-pocketed once, and easily saw through the glamour of the area. There are definitely better ways to spend your time in New Orleans, and I'm glad we didn't get caught up in Bourbon St.
What did I think of the music? Not being a Jazz musician, I didn't delve into the culture as much as some people might think. I was more interested in hearing the street entertainment and observing the various characters than I was seeing shows in fancy clubs. The various styles of music blend in strange ways as you walk down the street. There were a-cappella singers doing oldies, Cajun string bands, solo Bluesmen, big-band Jazz ensembles, and some non-traditional combinations as well. I even saw one singer songwriter.
In a way, I probably didn't take in as much music as I could
have, but that wasn't my only purpose for going to the city. The
people, the city and the music did have an affect on me though.
Maybe not in a musical sense, but in the attitude they possessed,
and the diversity that was proudly displayed. This comes at a
very important time in my career, and I think I really needed
that boost of encouragement.
For most of our stay, the sun was intense, the air tight and muggy. Going in July might not be the best idea, so I would consider a cooler time of the year if I went again.
Even though we weren't there during Mardi Gras, there were many people in the streets. I can't imagine it being much crazier, and probably wouldn't like it anyway. It was definitely unlike anything I've seen. In one day you could hear Spanish, French, Russian, Hindi, British and various American accents.
1) Find one good coffee shop or beverage place early in your stay and buy a travel mug to get discounted refills.
2) Keep in mind that the bars and other places have tricks to get you to spend more money. Drinks, virgin and otherwise, are expensive and ice-filled.
3) The shoeshine men wanted to shine your boots and will use lines like "Bet I can tell you where you got them boots." Don't fall for it - I didn't. Even if you ignore these guys they can be persistent. Just keep walking... or wear shiny shoes.
4) There's quite a bit of noise. Many of the shops have very loud sound systems blasting canned music. Some of them were so loud that you could easily damage your hearing if you aren't careful. Someone should really establish some guidelines for that sort of thing, but alas, not everyone is a musician who cares about their hearing.
5) If at all possible, try to stay in the center of the French Quarter, near the police station. I was totally impressed with the police staff in the French Quarter, and being so close to the station gave me a certain sense of security. With only two possible exceptions, I felt safe the entire time we were there.
6) Even if you think you can handle the food in this town, you've got to be prepared to jug down some Tums or Rolaids. Even the most tolerant stomachs can have trouble, and the last thing you want to do on a trip like this is blow you ass off!
