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.