New Orleans: Part the Second

I've been bad with the posting. Bad me. How will you all know what's going on in my life if I don't tell you, in excrutiating pictorial detail?

So here, belated as it is, we go:

We arrived late Wednesday afternoon to a veritable sauna. The weather felt, as Josh is fond of saying, like a slap in the face. We rolled up to Le Richelieu Hotel in the French Quarter, where we stayed for the first two nights at Mom's recommendation. Not the swankiest place, but a clean, well-located, atmospheric bargain with friendly staff and a signed picture of Vince Vaughn in the concierge's office. Good by me!


We had a pretty mellow first evening, eating and strolling past Cafe du Monde and Jackson Square. No beignets that first day, but the smell from even a couple hundred feet away was intoxicating. We bumped into a nice older couple who were also in town for ALA as we had an early dinner and had a nice chat with them. (Over the weekend the city became quite inundated with middle-aged, somewhat-square library ladies--nice but surreal!)


On Thursday we went on a swamp tour about 45 minutes away. It was on the drive to the swamp that we saw the most Katrina-related destruction: shopping centers broken up and empty, buildings demolished, houses lifted and moved far away, rubble stacked in huge piles. After sobering thoughts on the road there, the tour itself was quite lighthearted and informative, led by our rotund, jovial, anecdote-spewing guide Ben. Ben educated us about how alligators like marshmallows (they mistake them for avian eggs) and how about the history of the foliage in the swamp. And no, we did not see a nutria.


Post-tour, afflicted with low blood pressure, we headed to Cafe du Monde. My energy level is clearly not at an all-time high as a result of the heat. However, my new bangs are surprisingly resilient.


After my first revelatory bite of beignets, I couldn't help but feel that all was right with the world. After Josh's afternoon nap (a habit during our time in NO, since it was so stinkin' sweltering), we headed to another of my mom's recommendations, Irene's, a charming and not very touristy Italian joint with some funky decor and delicious food. We stuffed ourselves with pasta and the fatally tasty tiramisu. Sweet waiters and great for the sweet tooth.


On Friday we breakfasted on beignets, then headed over to the swanky work-funded hotel - posh and modern, but without the New Orleans flair of Le Richelieu. We went for a long walk, debated going on a steamboat cruise, but settled for hanging out at the aquarium for a while. It sure felt mighty nice and cool in there. But seriously, what is up with jellyfish? How are they alive? How do they consume or locomote or do anything? They are the bizarrest creatures. After our encounter with the denizens of the sea, Maverick and I headed back to the hotel for his daily nap.


Later that night we went to the local casino where I did my first-ever gambling before the oppressive second-hand smoke forced us back to the hotel. We had a decadent room-service dinner and dessert, including some desperate mini-bar raiding of beverages. (Canada Dry in mini-bottles is possibly the most satisfying beverage ever.)

On Saturday Josh had to work for a spell in the morning. Left to my own devices I did...what else...a stop by Cafe du Monde. I carted my bounty over to Jackson Square, where I had a lovely time people-watching, reading, and generally dousing myself with powdered sugar. I also went in a few shops (including a failed attempt to visit Mom's dream ring) but resisted buying anything. I got a delightfully authentic New Orleans Experience when, around, noon, the bells of the chapel in Jackson Square began to ring, then a wedding party poured out of the church. As the pretty young bride and dapper military-attired groom took pictures outside, a brass band began to play lovely old tunes like "You Are My Sunshine." Just perfect.


The rest of Saturday we wandered around the partially-deserted Riverwalk Mall, napped (JV), read (JB) and had dinner at a nearby hotel where we observed a perhaps-seven-months-pregnant woman order and drink two glasses of wine, to our horror.

All in all, it was a fun (if short) visit, and we were quite done in by the heat. I'd like to go back some time in the future, maybe with a larger group, for proper debauchery and when everything's up and running. (The St. Charles streetcar, for example, was out of operation.) My one regret? Not stopping by for final beignets on my way to the airport on Sunday morning.

Yeah, I've got my priorities in order. :-)