Filipino rough necks are no match for Bourbon Street on a Saturday night noise wise. Not even close. We are five floors up. I was shocked at how loud it was. I have been to a Pantera concert.
I woke Merryweather up at zero seven thirty. We walked over to Cafe Du Monde for first breakfast. It was busier than I expected but not unreasonable. I always go to the take out line. Thanks to covid all orders are “to go”.
Here is a pro tip for savvy travelers. The Mississippi River is directly behind Cafe Du Monde on the other side of the levee. Right there.
Street sweepers and sturdy men with high pressure hoses were cleaning Bourbon Street for a fresh Sunday round of entertainment. We saw several groupings of the pan handlers. Maybe a bible study or sharing tips on how to get more money. One of the guys felt strongly that nobody should be touching his foot. Biblically speaking, I thought he should have more empathy for the guy in the wheel chair with no feet. We walked back to the hotel via the Walgreens. The party needed to restock gold bond.
We took a nap.
For late breakfast, we went Le Bon Temp Roule for tamales and a beer. Merryweather spotted the Disco Warehouse. Despite the bubble machine, it was full of art and furniture and stuff.
We made it all the way to the ticket office of the Mardi Gras Warehouse where the floats are housed. We might go back tomorrow. We did get a picture.
We headed out of town down LA23 towards Venice. Venice is the tip of the boot in Louisiana. It was a pretty, but boring drive. There are levees on both sides of the road. The river and the gulf aren’t visible most of the drive. I was looking for the end of the road either metaphorical or literal.
We found it. On the way back we ate at Changes restaurant for first lunch. An overwhelming assortment of religious affirmations decorate the walls. They also have a railroad tie mounted on the wall to commentate all the props Dave Valant has sacrificed to the great Mississippi River.
They served a baked potato covered in shrimp and cheese sauce. Baked potatoes are a really solid choice. The secret sauce was suspiciously cheesy like a Velveeta.
Back towards New Orleans, I went to see the Lower Ninth Ward. I wouldn’t recommend it. Some of the roads in NOLA would embarrass a third world road crew. I haven’t been to many places like that, but I have watched all of Top Gear and Grand Tour and Jeremy Clarkson on a tractor. I did see what I went to see. Part of the 9th is below the river. You can look up at ships passing. Surreal.
Merryweather picked another gem of a restaurant for first dinner. The St Roch Market hosts several restaurants. We setup a base camp for raw and baked Gulf Oysters at Elysians. Merryweather also ordered Crawfish etoufee. I got a Bluesty Collins from the bar in the next stall.
Still haven’t found a place that will let me eat fistfuls of shrimp and crawfish until I pass out. New Orleans is all about its Southern Gentility.
On the street below, I heard a motorcycle with no muffler warning up for a drive around Bourbon Street.
We took a second nap.
The hotel keeps its nicest cars close to the front door as some sort of “hotel status symbol” You can imagine our surprise to see the Overland Rig front and center when we went back out to Rue Bourbon after the sun set.
Sunday was a little more relaxed. We walked the length of Bourbon. We bought 144 beads and got an invitation to hang out on a balcony. Waiting for a doorman to ask if you would like go up on the balcony actually worked. I still can’t believe it. I am all about the hustle and being charming and nice, but sometimes all you need is a arm full of beads. Life is weird like that.
If any one asks, Merryweather is definitely 21. You can tell because he is tall. That is the official way for determining age. Now that we have that cleared up…
Throwing beads off a balcony on Bourbon Street is ridiculous. It has the added benefit of allowing you to people watch and stand in one place. I sometimes feel like I am good at grabbing people’s attention. I walked away with no remaining beads, but humble.
Jon The Bruce 