Friday 18th October 2019

Folks come to Nawlins for many reasons.

I say Nawlins as that is how we saw New Orleans spelt yesterday, and its how most people pronounce it.

For the most part, it is a party town. All along Bourbon Street, the ground floors of fancy villas and other buildings have bee turned into "fun pubs" or whatever their Nawlins counterpart it. Most have what are like washing machines full of ready mixed cocktails ready for sale. Whilst on the street, folks in summer clothes are already sipping from shaped plastic glasses, drinks with names like Voodoo Juice and Hand Grenades.

Inbetween the bars and pubs there are tat shops, of course, all selling the same stuff, and occasionally there are places to eat, or maybe a gallery.

Off Bourbon Street, things are generally calmer, which is just as well, as Bourbon is a bit like London on New Year's Eve after dark, so getting around is interesting to say the least. And then there are those who decide to tour the French Quarter in their cars, so long lines of SUVs and the like are nose to tail for block after block.

You see all of humanity on the streets, from the frat boys here on a weekend of partaying, to those with nothing, hoping for a handout to enable them to get through the day. Language is mostly American or Spanish, but then there is the occasional Creole, two taxi drivers talking to each other in this exotic language.

We cam here for the architecture of the French Quarter and the Creole cuisine. Honest.

We are not party people any more, those who read my words will testify my desire to be in bed at a certain time. Even in the RAF I was infamous for leaving a bar early to get to bed. Its still the same. Getting drunk for the sake of it is no longer in my make up, we will have a beer or a cocktail or two, when the time and occasion is right, but as for walking down the street, holding a large plastic syringe full of frozen cocktail, squirting the contents into my mouth whilst being cheered on by Jools at eleven in the morning, was never going to happen.

We are out of the city come Monday morning, we have four days to drive the four hours to Houston, so will have to find things to do before arriving on Thursday, as on Friday I want to visit the space centre.

But, welcome to Nawlins.

We wake up after over nine hours sleep, so don't regret our bailing before dark the night before after dinner. We slept like babies, and woke feeling refreshed and ready to explore. Our hotel is on Canal Street, which seems to split the city in half. The part behind the hotel is the historic French Quarter with all its attractions, on the other side of the street is the more modern part.

We shower, get dressed, I am all tooled up with cameras. There is no real plan.

We walk down towards the waterfront, but soon stop for breakfast at a fine looking place, where for eighteen bucks we can have an all you can eat buffet breakfast, and lots of coffee. Which is good.

It is early in Crescent City, there are just a few other diners, and our server is a fine college graduate trying to make his way in the world of music, holding down this job while he gets his own company off the ground. That's what he told us. Might not have believed it in Vegas, but here, probably.

The good is excellent, especially the spicy gator sausages Yes, alligator.

Coffee is better though.

After filling ourselves up, we walk back out and wander down Canal Street further, over the busy intersection, past the casino, over the tram and railroad tracks, up the levee and there, is the mighty Mississippi. All grey and confused. Here the river is confined between levees on either side, so is not that wide, away on the right, two huge bridges carry the interstate high enough to allow the biggest of ships to enter the river.

In front of us, a modern version of a paddle steamer is getting ready for the first cruise of the day, all with meals laid on, of course.

We skip that, we walk towards the bridges, but our way is blocked by a freight yard. So, we walk through the shopping mall, full of shops selling things we don't need. Stuff no one needs if I'm honest.

Across the main street again, turning right into the French Quarter. We are met by a dazzling collection of wonderful buildings, many with wrought iron balconies and leafy pom poms hanging. And all around the detritus from the previous night's festivities.

The epicentre of the party version of Nawlins is Bourbon Street which is lined with bars all competing with each other to sell the same mass-produced cocktails, all showing bright neon lights, even at ten in the morning. And people had already started drinking.

After an hour, we stop at a cafe for a coffee and an ice cream, and amazingly have to wait nearly half an hour before being served the ice cream. Jools even had to remind the poor over-worked guy behind the counter about the order we had already paid for. He was sorry, and we cut the dud some slack. Ice cream was good, just as well.

We walk round and round until midday, then walk back to the hotel, via the insectarium where we had seen butterflies you could walk with while they flew around you.

We go in, and once in with the butterflies, so fabulous tropical blue butterfly landed on my finger, as the humidity in the enclosure made me perspire.

We go back to the hotel to book activities for the next two days and to relax. Relaxing is good.

At three, we go out to a bar behind the hotel that had been recommended, hoping that whilst we were out our room would be made up. So I sat and made three Wobblies disappear, JOols had two ciders, as we did some people watching and reading.

Back to the room we found it still had not been made up, so we get ready to go out for the night, only for te maid to knock at half five asking if she could do our room. I quickly dress and we go out to allow her to do her job, and we go to find dinner.

I had read that a place along Bourbon was good for Creole cooking, but it did mean mixing with the party crowd. We make it, as a rainbow rose over the street hinting at more rain to come, we found Mambos, they had dozens of tables, so we were shown to one to one side.

I was recommended to have pasta jambalaya and Jools had bbq'd red fish. Or something We both ordered Mai Tais, Jools' first time with this cocktail.

All was great, I mean the food was spectacular, as was views of the street through the large window away to the left.

Rain began to fall, and people ran for cover. We carried on eating.

Once done, we quickly get off Bourbon and walk back to the hotel, we had been out to nearly nine in the evening.

Dirty stop-outs.