That, for me, is New Orleans. Or more any place in the south. I grew up in the midwest, and so I hate humidity.. with a passion... almost as much as I hate being in hot humidity. Therefore, as much as I've wanted to see the Big Easy, I also never wanted to set aside time or money (that could be used elsewhere) to go and see it.
When my mom first proposed the trip to me, with her having a meeting at a hotel on Canal Street and cheap flights available for me to tag along... I said "no", because I didn't want to be taken away from all of the glorious El Nino snow in Colorado. However, as the date approached, Colorado had experienced nearly a week of 50 degree weather... blegh!
And now here I am, sitting in a cafe on Canal Street, soaking wet from walking about in the warm rain (something I don't get to experience much in Colorado). But now I'm sitting inside, watching the rain come down and enjoying the fresh smell it brings. Washing over the historical cobblestone sidewalks and making all of the plants on the balconies lift up their leaves, filled with life and color, like the brightly faded walls and window shutters surrounding them.
This place was definitely what I would consider a culture shock. I'm not really sure that it's essence can be described in words. The people, the architechture, the music, the food... it's all so... quirky. So intriguing. And, smelly.
We arrived on Saturday evening and decided to walk to Bourbon Street to see what all the hooplah was about. My mom had been here 20 years ago, so she had an idea of what it would be like. I start getting dressed... ripstop shorts that are three sizes too big, cinched in high on my waist and a white-thin button up shirt, tied tight just above my shorts, then Chacos. Naturally.
"Um... You may want to wear your boots," my mom says with a smirk on her face.
So I throw on my chunky Lowa trekking boots, knowing that my mom never leads me astray on these kinds of things.
We leave the hotel lobby and I'm busy looking up, soaking up the vibrant vibes on the streets. Within half of a block of leaving the hotel, I manage to step right in a pile of vomit.
"Ohhhh!" Several young men shout as I walk by... Hahahah I look to my mom and thank her for making me put on boots.
The rest of the evening was, by far, without a doubt, THE most disgusting evening I have ever experienced. The entire of Bourbon Street was packed with young, and old, people... all of which were beyond a level of drunk I have ever seen. Sloshing, shouting, boobs, butts, vomit, barefoot girls, piss... And these were all things that I saw in the gutter on the side of the street. Oh my word, the smell was unbelievable. Unimaginable. I felt as though I wanted a cigarette, simply to block out the smell. I have never smoked a cigarette in my life... and the fact that the smell of one in passing was a relief to my nose might give you a good idea of just how awful the stench was.
Granted, I still managed to get pretty buzzed myself, and that certainly helped with the general disgust I had towards the place. Mm. Those frozen margaritas are to die for.
After that evening, I decided that the day time would be more my thing... as is the case everywhere I go.
And it really was quite interesting! The day time crowd consisted mainly of Canadian tourists in their 50s. Shopping for trinkets and drinking Louisiana Lemonades, which, might I say, are quite tasty.
My mom and I walk to the Frenchman Market and ordered (adult) fruit smoothies for breakfast... shoot. A shot or two of rum in my pineapple smoothie is a little different than my usual choice of coffee.
This was a very different type of vacation for me. Drinking, walking through a city, taking photos of buildings and people, listening to live Jazz music, eating THE BEST comfort food I've ever gotten my hands on (yeah, I'm looking at you, you Creole seasoned shrimp and andouille sausage). Ugh. The thought of it still makes my mouth water.
Walking around the French Quarter was a cool experience, feeling like I was in a different country.. Like, I don't know.. France 'er something.
One evening I was asked out by a cute waiter to a local bar with gypsy/punk/country music playing. Talk about culture shock! What a cool local vibe. Dreadlocks, combat boots, face tattoos, handmade leather clothing, overalls... I felt like I had entered a Burning Man after party filled with transients and bayou folk. I didn't take any pictures, unfortunately. But let's just say that I certainly got a good taste of both the tourist portion and the local vibe during my stay in New Orleans.
Here's some more photos I took during my stay.
Have you been to New Orleans? What are your thoughts?
Happy trails!
Dai
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