The French Quarter

     Some would think it's a curse to wake up at 5:00 am every morning if one has the remnants of the preceding night's excesses, but the best part of the day is, for me, the tranquility of the early morning. I watched willows of steaming hot coffee rise as the darkness of the night faded away to the first sliver of dawn than blossom into a multi hued baby blanket pink and blue morning sky. The quiet and solitude didn't last long.  The wind came up and the temperature dropped a good 20 degrees.  White caps quickly formed on the water rocking the boat side to side. I was glad to be securely tied to the dock.
     This was a prelude as to what was to come.  No, New Orleans was not going to give up its "essence" easily! We headed for the French quarter dressed for a chill...not a "hard freeze!

            Wedding party procession in the French Quarter. It might have been 40 degrees.
                                                                              

   We started our walk down Conti street admiring the old architecture of the shotgun houses with the ornate adorning balconies.  Quaint, peaceful, serene, until... after a few blocks, we began to feel the low pitched rumblings of  the cacophony that was to break upon us on arriving at Bourbon Street. It was only 4:00 in the afternoon and already there was mayhem.  Raucous music from one bar drowning out the next  bar.                                                                  

                                               Throwing us beads on  Bourbon Street.
                                                                                           
                                                                             
     I have to say some of it, like Get Down Sally ( you know "ride Sally ride") brought back memories of a more youthful time when this was a great dance song but it saddened me somewhat to think that that time for us had probably passed.  My kids are probably thinking,  its about time he grew up!
    Some were already staggering from too many of the cheap mixed drinks.  What is in a Hurricane or Hand Grenade, anyway? It was amusing to see the street mimes totally covered with silver or gold paint.. How do they stay in a fixed statue position for so long?  Some of them were just plain crude, like the gold foot ball player with his middle finger extended to the crowd or the totally silver (hair, beard, feet) with a long skinny balloon sticking out of his fly and  vibrating in the wind.
    We walked toward Jackson square and found Cafe du Mond, recommended as a "must do" by CRNA's  Aaron,  Casey and Doug.  The coffee was mediocre but the Beignets (a donut without the hole, done as only the French can do with the flair of a mound of powdered sugar) were tasty.

                                                 Yummy but do not inhale while eating!

     Next we took the mule drawn carriage ride.  At $15 a piece, this was a bargain.  With a continuing narrative from the driver we toured past Jackson square and he reminded us that hangings and floggings were frequently performed in public here.  We passed the French Market,  a hotel with a wrought iron corn stalk fence, older homes reportedly owned by Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt and heard about a former slave who was told she could marry her master if she stayed out on the roof overnight, naked.  Supposedly he was actually in love with her, but it was the coldest December night of the year with freezing rain and while he passed out from drinking with his buddies in the house she froze to death.  It is said that you can still see her ghost on top of the roof on the coldest night in December every year.

                                                                  Sidekick our tour guide.

     Well, it was cold, (39 degrees by the time we were done the carriage tour!) so we passed up our plan to visit the pub with the duelling pianos, Pat O'Briens.  We were chilled, so called it a night and started making plans to continue tomorrow when hopefully it would warm up.

New Orleans

     After being up all night on call, I tried to relax. Closing my eyes I  listened to the soft patter of the rain on the windshield.  Even a dull day and a cold rain couldn't suppress the excitement we felt with our return to Docs Holiday.  I was glad Mildred was driving because I know that my normal "lead foot" would have been even heavier and the four hour drive would have been over in half the time.  This way we would arrive in one piece with no speeding tickets, but it seemed like a snails pace.
     Beth arrived at the boat the day before, bringing the spare props.  She called to say the boat was  in the slings and they were changing the props.  We arrived in time to catch the dock lines at the fuel dock.  As quickly as we could, we pumped in 450 gallons of diesel and put her back in her slip.
      When the girls went shopping, Tom and I got to work.  As I cleaned up under the motors to get rid of the "boat smell"...( ps. note to memory..A little Pine Sol goes a looooong way!)...Tom tightened up the packing glands then started work on the water fill gauge.  I checked the fluids in the motors, transmissions, and generator while Tom filled the boat with water. Finally,we changed the water filters and were cleaned up and waiting to go by the time the girls got back to the boat.
      A $25.00 taxi ride and we were standing on St. Charles Street looking to experience the essence of New Orleans, you know- Mardi Gras, jazz music and Cajun/ Creole food.  So, "How the hell did you wind up in an Irish Pub?" you ask.   Well, as we were walking along looking for the "essence of New Orleans" we heard Enya playing outside a pub with a sign saying Enya was playing inside, so in we went. No it wasn't the famous Enya.
                              

Enya and Ralph

                                                                        

 It was a flaming red headed Irish folk singer who entertained us all night long with  her Irish ballads, ditties, and sing along. We were thrilled with the sing along "The Wild Rover".  If you have been to an Irish pub you will recognize this song by the Clancy Brothers which goes,  " I've been a wild rover for many a year and I've spent all my money on whiskey and beer" with the chorus, "No Nay Never - 3 hand claps-No Nay Never No More!"  With this song ringing in our ears we sampled Tullymore Dew, which is an irish whiskey and Smithwicks Dark Ale. These  soon became "Lassie,  Bring us another Dew and Smith and Wesson, which we quaffed  on the balcony overlooking the Mardi Gras parade. 
                                                      

                                      
                                    On the balcony of the pub watching the parade.

      It was the Krewe Oshun and the theme of the parade was children.  We marvelled at the precision of the marching bands, the gesticulations of the majorettes and the wildly choreographed movements of the dancers.  I can't begin to describe the ornate floats, but I can describe the beads and baubles they were throwing to the crowd...the little bastards hurt! Much to our amazement those on the floats could sling those beads all the way to the balcony.  Nevertheless, we braved the cold, sustained by our very attentive waitress who in good Irish tradition kept our glasses full.

                                                  
                                         Tullymore Dew and Smithwicks.
 
     Maybe we will get the essence of New Orleans tomorrow when we visit the French Quarter.  Right now my head is a little foggy and I'm off to bed.....damn Dew!

                                    
                                 To much Smith and Wesson and Irish Coffee and Dew!