New Orleans, Louisiana
I made it. I’ve long wanted to visit, if only for a day (and it was just a day). New Orleans just like I pictured it (apologies to Stevie wonder, from the song “Living for the City”).
But before that, I took a quick drive tour of Mobile, where I’d stayed the night. It’s quite a lovely city, and another city with that Antebellum southern look, with a similar look to New Orleans it turns out. I hit the road by about 7:30, and it was definitely shorts and sandals weather, and I had a good chunk of time to cruise Mobile and take a look around. The interstate was jammed, but I was able to get into town without having to negotiate that mess, and I was able to get downtown via Dauphin street, which I had visited last night and was jumping. Looked a little different in the daylight, and pretty empty.
Then time to get on the road to New Orleans, it turns out just over 2 hours away, 144 miles south west. I took the fastest route (I-10), and after passing through Mississippi, soon crossed the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway Bridge, at 24 miles, the longest continuous bridge in the world. As I drove across the bridge, I saw several pelicans flying over the lake, looking for lunch. Not a surprise I suppose, as Louisiana is the Pelican State.
And about 34 miles later I saw the New Orleans skyline, which surprised me as I wasn’t expecting all those skyscrapers. It seemed very metropolitan, rather than the smaller, hey y’all city I’d imagined, and, in fact, has a population of around 390,000.
I arrived around 10:45, and I first drove to my hotel, which it happily turns out was in the very center of the downtown, and I passed through the downtown central business district, the heart of all those large buildings. It was very New York city-ish, but actually it’s a relatively small area, and the rest of the city is pretty flat like most of the southern cities I’ve visited over the years, and very lovely, as I had imagined. But, although it has its definitely funky parts, particularly in the French Quarter, which is usually featured in images of New Orleans and most characterizes it, the city has the same feel and appearance as Mobile and Savannah, for instance, with similar architecture (although certainly not exactly the same), and is a picturesque and historical southern city.
The city also has a strong European flavor, unsurprisingly as it was established by the French and was under French rule for 40 years or so, and then under Spanish rule for another 40 years, with architecture of both, and then briefly under French rule again until coming under U.S rule in 1803, following the Louisiana Purchase. New Orleans became an important American port, with a diverse population of people of French, Spanish, African, and Caribbean origin, leading to a Creole and Cajun culture, and later becoming the birthplace of jazz, itself a distinctly different music at that time, emerging from those blended multi-ethnic cultures.
I headed down to the French Quarter, which is about 13 blocks long, running along the Mississippi River waterfront, and about 8 to 9 blocks deep, and this is the area that New Orleans is most known for, filled with restaurants, bars, attractions, and entertainment, with loads of music venues of one sort or another, some new, some much older. It is the oldest part of the city, established in 1718, and includes Bourbon Street, a street probably most often associated with the city, and Bourbon Street and the neighbouring streets are lively in the daytime and evening, and are probably the most funky parts of the city, although nowadays pretty commercialized.
One very sad thing is seeing the number of homeless and derelict people everywhere, and especially walking deeper into the French Quarter, and in other parts of the city I later drove through. Many of these folks are not just down and out, but very clearly in terrible shape. It is a sad sight, and I guess a permanent feature of the city. The public restrooms are all closed because the city doesn’t want them to be used inappropriately by the unhoused population, many of whom, as in many cities, are not just homeless, but also suffering from addiction or mental health issues, and in many cases, are physically unwell aslo.
I parked my car at a downtown lot, and for the next four hours walked the French Quarter and immediate area, and covered perhaps 5 or 6 miles.
Like any well known and well advertised city, New Orleans is pretty well commercialized, so lots of souvenir shops, eateries, bars, and attractions, and lots of visitors. It’s a busy and lively area, day and night, or at least during my paltry one day here, and this is not the busiest tourist season.
This part of the French Quarter is right along the mighty Mississippi, with the Moonwalk, a paved walking path running along the river, named for a former mayor whose nickname was Moon (for some reason).
The paddle steamers on the Mississippi take visitors on riverboat tours, and as people were waiting to board, around 2 pm, I heard the most ghastly and loud pipe organ music. I thought it was terrible, and it went on and on, and was so loud. It was actually coming from the paddle steamer that was about to be boarded, and it was a guy on the top deck playing a pipe organ powered by the steam of the boat, and in that respect was very interesting,with steam coming out of each pipe as he played. Like a Mickey Mouse cartoon. But, even worse, people were calling for encores. It was so loud that it was difficult to get away from the sound, and I was very relieved when he finally stopped. What a racquet, and I thought not that well played. Ay, caramba!
Also along the waterfront is Jackson Square and the St. Louis Cathedral behind and looming over the Square. Needless to say both are beautiful.
Canal Street is a large, and European looking, boulevard that marks the end of the French Quarter and the beginning of the central business district. It’s lined with stores, restaurants, bars, hotels, asnd historic buildings, with the well known New Orleans street cars running its length.
New Orleans is a city that cries out to be photographed, with its beautiful cityscapes, its wonderful buildings, and its sights. I took many photos, and have included quite a few here, because the city and its buildings are so great looking.
Known as a city of music, New Orleans streets are alive with the sound of music everywhere you go, in bars, restaurants, and just on the streets. Some of that street music is not so hot though, and one street drummer, using a home-made drum kit made of barrels and pots, was very loud and terrible. It was as bad, maybe worse, than the steam pipe organ on the paddle steamer, and endless. I wanted to beg him to stop. He could have been high, or have mental health issues, or just plain lousy. The music was cacophonous. Not all music in New Orleans is well played.
There were just so many photos to take, it’s difficult to decide, not so much what to include here, but what to not include.
Around 4 pm, remembering that it it’s pretty dark here by about 5:30, I took a drive along the non-commercial, non-tourist streets, and along some of the main roads and side roads.
I drove to the Garden District, about 3 miles from the French Quarter, a historic neighborhood known for its 19th century and more recent mansions and houses, adorned with beautiful gardens, and along oak-lined streets. Unlike downtown and the French Quarter, these are quiet residential streets, although clearly not your average residential streets in New Orleans (or anywhere). This is not how or where the general population of the city lives.
By now, the sun was setting and dusk descending. Cities always look nice by night, and I knew New Orleans would be no different. I drove around the city, before eventually winding up in the French Quarter.
I headed to Bourbon Street, figuring there’d be a pretty wild nightlife there. Not only were there lots and lots and lots of people, and music coming from every bar, restaurant, and joint, but there were no rules. It didn’t seem to be like this on of the other streets in the area, but on Bourbon Street people were treating it as though it were a pedestrian mall. Individuals, couples, and groups were simply walking in the dead center of the road, facing and back toward the traffic, meandering along as though there were no cars on the street. I suppose this is part of the culture on Bourbon Street, but it’s sort of odd (to me) that there seem to be no semblance of road sense or awareness or concern that they were not on a pedestrian mall. I guess it’s just Bourbon Street, and that’s what you do. I mean, everybody seemed to be doing it.
And by now, boy, was I tired. . Should I go listen to music – there was such a wide variety and choice? How about a 2-hour paddle steamer cruise on the Mississippi? Tempting, but no, I was just to too beat. So to the hotel, which other than driving by earlier, I hadn’t yet been to. It was right in the heart of the business district. No parking, but I knew that would be the case, but there are hotel-oriented multi-story parking lots everywhere, including directly next to the hotel, where I parked overnight. This hotel, La Quinta downtown, was a 4 or 5 star hotel, and I was on the 15th floor in a great room. Very nice. The reality for me though, is that it was just a place to spend the night.
Tomorrow I head back north, wending my way home. I’ll be staying in Huntsville, Alabama, but just as a stop on the way home. It’ll be a long day of driving tomorrow, on interstates all the way.
One last thing. Earlier in the day, I saw an aide pushing a lady in her wheelchair, and she was completely helpless, perhaps with something like a degenerative motor neuron disease (like Stephen Hawking) or perhaps she had been born this way. She was extremely thin, and her wrists and hands bent in and her other limbs distorted, and it was not clear whether she was taking anything in at all, or just partially, or completely but couldn’t respond. It really made me sad, deeply. It hit me in my stomach and I felt a physical sensation. She reminded me of Bev, not because Bev had a muscular illness like that, but because toward the end Bev, too, was in a wheelchair, helpless, and not very responsive, or not responsive at all, to her surroundings. Even now, writing and thinking about seeing this sad lady this morning brings some of the same feelings and deep sadness I felt then. Being with Bev, from start to finish, had a profound effect on my life and changed it, and the way I experience things, including being witness to people who have lost everything.
Thinking about it more, and what made me feel so sad, it is the unfairness of it all – not that there really is any “fair” and “unfair” in nature, but it is the awful circumstance that robs some people of the ability to be themselves fully, to experience the world as others do, to be unable to make their own way, and to not or no longer have the ability to engage fully in life, in whichever direction it takes us. It is the unfairness and cruelty of life that made me so sad and feel so deeply for that lady, and touched deeply upon my grief.