The Vacation: Episode II: The Big Easy
We left Orlando around 6pm that evening. I wanted to leave before the sun was down because I did not have a route planned to New Orleans. I knew that I had to take the Florida Turnpike to I-75 and then head north until I reached I-10, but I wanted the sun to still be up when we reached the interchange since it is sometimes easy to miss signs when it is dark outside.
The trip across to New Orleans was pretty uneventful. Most of it was spent in the Florida panhandle before basically skipping through Alabama and then getting into Mississippi around 3am. We decided to stop at the point because we were only an hour or two out from New Orleans and we didn't want to show up on Quinn and Jamie's doorstep at 4am. So we caught a few hours nap and then got back on the road and headed into New Orleans.
My idea had been to take I-10 towards New orleans and then take I-12 north of the city and merge onto the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway which would have dropped us nearly on our friend's doorstep. Well, i was tired and missed the interchange and we ended up driving through downtown New Orleans. Eventually, we pulled of and bought a city map from a truck stop and quickly got back on route. The one thing I am glad about is that we got to New Orleans about an hour before rush hour and so did not have to deal with the insane road system and the insane drivers in that city at the same time. So, we got to Quinn and Jamie's around 7am and quickly unloaded, said hi, went out for breakfast, and then crashed for a few hours.
Jaimie, unfortunately, had to work from noon till 9pm, so Quinn had the dubious pleasure of escorting us around the French Quarter. I really do not know what to say about the French Quarter. After visiting it, I was left with a feeling of wonder and of sadness. The French Quarter has some absolutely beautiful architecture. Many of the buildings have the classic stone work with leaded glass and over hanging balconies, draped in plants and vines. There is definitely an atmosphere about the Quarter that brings to mind lazy afternoons sipping iced tea and mint julips and yet reinforces the cliched mist strewn nights filled with lengthening shadows, danger, and debauchery.
The Quarter is an old woman refusing to give up her freedom. Though the years drag upon her, there is passion below the surface, and a fire for life and excitement. She sits there and welcomes all in and then if you actually take the time to get to know her, you can see past the crumbling stone and worn exteriors to the rich tapestry of a life that she has lived. But the further you mover from her heart at Jackson park, you find the cancer that grows in her. Bourbon Street has not been kind to the Quarter. It gives the stately beauty of the area a whoreish and drunkard reputation that more take back with them than they do the full experience.
Not that Bourbon Street is a stain on the Quarter, but it certainly seems to be the wayward child of the heart of New Orleans. It is as infamous as it's reputation merits. A mile long stretch of alcohol, sex, and carousing, it certainly provides the eyes with more than their share of delicacies to behold. It is very much alive and vibrant. Music thumps from a myriad of bars and restaurants, attempting to lure the drunk and sober alike with its siren call. Like the frontier towns of the 1800's, the sex houses display their wares openly on the outside of the buildings, and you can walk the street with drink in hand as long as it is not in a glass bottle.It is a wonderous riot of decadence, and I found it enjoyable while I was there, but really it is not what I wanted to see in New Orleans.
Luckily, Bourbon Street's personality extends only lightly past its decorated buildings. Most of the rest of the French Quarter is quiet and filled with small art shops, antique stores, curio shops, jewelers, and small bars. Their of course is the obligatory t-shirt shop on every street, but as Quinn said, and I was quick to agree, once you have been in one, you have been in them all. It was in this area that we found a small out of the bar across from the St Louis Cathedral that opens onto Jackson Park. It was a small corner bar across from the church's garden wall and at the entrance to a thin alley known as Pirate's Alley. The bar was not too busy and I was able to have my first taste of Absinthe. or the Green Fairy, as it is called. Basically, Absinthe is poured over a sugar cube into a glass and then the cube is lit on fire. After it goes out, water is poured over the cube until the liquid in the glass is a luminous cloudy green. As to the taste. Well, if you do not like black licorice, you will not like Absinthe. I found it pleasant, and it left a numb tingling on my tongue and the back of my throat from its slight narcotic effect. I will probably get a bottle of Absinthe and make Green Fairies at Leech Glen, since after we arrived and got drinks, a group of nine came in and all order Green fairies, and I earned quite the education in the process of watching.
We spent about twenty minutes in the bar before wandering down the afore mentioned alley to a small secluded shop that sold vampire oddities and advertised tours of the haunted places of New Orleans. I would certainly like to engage one of those tours next time I go back. It looked very interesting. The Vampire Boutique has a website Feel The Bite if you are interested.
Anyway, we left the store after about 15 minutes and then walked our way back to Quinn's car. We headed back to Quinn's place, only making a short stop at his lab so he could pick up some of his dissertation to correct.
We went swimming when we got back to cool of and remove the smells of the French Quarter before watching a movie and then heading out to a seafood restaurant called Deannie's for dinner. I had a wonderful seafood gumbo and Crawfish Entouflee for dinner. We went back to Quinn and jaimie's after wards and sat up talkiing for a time before I went to bed. The next morning we got up early and Jaimie made us breakfast. We were on the road by 10am and heading north to visit Ian and Erika in Illinois, but that will be on the next installment.
The trip across to New Orleans was pretty uneventful. Most of it was spent in the Florida panhandle before basically skipping through Alabama and then getting into Mississippi around 3am. We decided to stop at the point because we were only an hour or two out from New Orleans and we didn't want to show up on Quinn and Jamie's doorstep at 4am. So we caught a few hours nap and then got back on the road and headed into New Orleans.
My idea had been to take I-10 towards New orleans and then take I-12 north of the city and merge onto the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway which would have dropped us nearly on our friend's doorstep. Well, i was tired and missed the interchange and we ended up driving through downtown New Orleans. Eventually, we pulled of and bought a city map from a truck stop and quickly got back on route. The one thing I am glad about is that we got to New Orleans about an hour before rush hour and so did not have to deal with the insane road system and the insane drivers in that city at the same time. So, we got to Quinn and Jamie's around 7am and quickly unloaded, said hi, went out for breakfast, and then crashed for a few hours.
Jaimie, unfortunately, had to work from noon till 9pm, so Quinn had the dubious pleasure of escorting us around the French Quarter. I really do not know what to say about the French Quarter. After visiting it, I was left with a feeling of wonder and of sadness. The French Quarter has some absolutely beautiful architecture. Many of the buildings have the classic stone work with leaded glass and over hanging balconies, draped in plants and vines. There is definitely an atmosphere about the Quarter that brings to mind lazy afternoons sipping iced tea and mint julips and yet reinforces the cliched mist strewn nights filled with lengthening shadows, danger, and debauchery.
The Quarter is an old woman refusing to give up her freedom. Though the years drag upon her, there is passion below the surface, and a fire for life and excitement. She sits there and welcomes all in and then if you actually take the time to get to know her, you can see past the crumbling stone and worn exteriors to the rich tapestry of a life that she has lived. But the further you mover from her heart at Jackson park, you find the cancer that grows in her. Bourbon Street has not been kind to the Quarter. It gives the stately beauty of the area a whoreish and drunkard reputation that more take back with them than they do the full experience.
Not that Bourbon Street is a stain on the Quarter, but it certainly seems to be the wayward child of the heart of New Orleans. It is as infamous as it's reputation merits. A mile long stretch of alcohol, sex, and carousing, it certainly provides the eyes with more than their share of delicacies to behold. It is very much alive and vibrant. Music thumps from a myriad of bars and restaurants, attempting to lure the drunk and sober alike with its siren call. Like the frontier towns of the 1800's, the sex houses display their wares openly on the outside of the buildings, and you can walk the street with drink in hand as long as it is not in a glass bottle.It is a wonderous riot of decadence, and I found it enjoyable while I was there, but really it is not what I wanted to see in New Orleans.
Luckily, Bourbon Street's personality extends only lightly past its decorated buildings. Most of the rest of the French Quarter is quiet and filled with small art shops, antique stores, curio shops, jewelers, and small bars. Their of course is the obligatory t-shirt shop on every street, but as Quinn said, and I was quick to agree, once you have been in one, you have been in them all. It was in this area that we found a small out of the bar across from the St Louis Cathedral that opens onto Jackson Park. It was a small corner bar across from the church's garden wall and at the entrance to a thin alley known as Pirate's Alley. The bar was not too busy and I was able to have my first taste of Absinthe. or the Green Fairy, as it is called. Basically, Absinthe is poured over a sugar cube into a glass and then the cube is lit on fire. After it goes out, water is poured over the cube until the liquid in the glass is a luminous cloudy green. As to the taste. Well, if you do not like black licorice, you will not like Absinthe. I found it pleasant, and it left a numb tingling on my tongue and the back of my throat from its slight narcotic effect. I will probably get a bottle of Absinthe and make Green Fairies at Leech Glen, since after we arrived and got drinks, a group of nine came in and all order Green fairies, and I earned quite the education in the process of watching.
We spent about twenty minutes in the bar before wandering down the afore mentioned alley to a small secluded shop that sold vampire oddities and advertised tours of the haunted places of New Orleans. I would certainly like to engage one of those tours next time I go back. It looked very interesting. The Vampire Boutique has a website Feel The Bite if you are interested.
Anyway, we left the store after about 15 minutes and then walked our way back to Quinn's car. We headed back to Quinn's place, only making a short stop at his lab so he could pick up some of his dissertation to correct.
We went swimming when we got back to cool of and remove the smells of the French Quarter before watching a movie and then heading out to a seafood restaurant called Deannie's for dinner. I had a wonderful seafood gumbo and Crawfish Entouflee for dinner. We went back to Quinn and jaimie's after wards and sat up talkiing for a time before I went to bed. The next morning we got up early and Jaimie made us breakfast. We were on the road by 10am and heading north to visit Ian and Erika in Illinois, but that will be on the next installment.