“I dislike when I miss out on overwhelming positive food recommendations. The unexperienced praise haunts me.” – Old Sean
Traffic Trip
After visiting a friend in Shreveport, I took the interstate south heading towards New Orleans. Though I expected a swift, three hour drive with no morning traffic, I was proven incredibly wrong over a long slog.
It should’ve been a five hour drive. It turned into six-and-half hours once traffic began mounting. A combination of road-stop coffee and tiny bladders tacked on an extra fifteen minutes.
As such, I was in a rather grumpy mood when I arrived in New Orleans.
Morning Quarters
Upon finally arriving, I quietly parked my car in a residential area outside the French Quarter. The city had already started their lunch breaks up as I walked around. I found myself lunch and joined the midday-work walking crowds.
After eating, my mood began to improve. I walked to Jackson Square first, hoping to catch an early glimpse of the Mississippi River. While munching on a croissant, my buoyant mood was effectively shattered by a low-level con-artist.
Woe to the walking tourist trap who tried to shine my shoes and pass me a cheap plastic necklace. I made muffled protests as he sprayed water on my dusty, scarred hiking boots. After scrubbing a scummy rag across my boot, the man straightened before coyly asking “How about that tip?”
Tiny gods below, I loathe people like that. I don’t actually mind scams nearly as much as I mind lazy scams.
The pettiness and low yield of the shoe-shine con is just as annoying to me as being a target.
I was rude as hell, shoved back the plastic necklace and both of us marched away with surly expressions.
Mardi Memories
Despite my best efforts, my mood began to lift once I went exploring a bit more. I love New Orleans and some of my favorite youthful memories are tied up in the city.
Years ago, while still a University pup, I attended Mardi Gras here. The night consisted of gumbo, free oysters, the usual debauchery, a small gas explosion and inadvertently adopting a dog (whom I eventually name Marty).
The catalyst for my Mardi Gras visit was losing a drunk friend as he ran away without a wallet after a minor concussion. When we finally found him after a long night of searching, we drove back to Dallas. I had rather enjoyed the extended adventure night, but I spent much of the return drive attempting to appease my other two irked road trip buddies.
So many fond memories.
Modern Orleans
Fortunately, this trip was in the waking hours and therefore of a bit tamer.
I still had a good time.
Canal Street is always worth a visit and the tram system is uniquely convenient. Café Du Monde is a splendid little pastry shop with inherently messy beignets. This segues nicely into Jackson Square, a park-and-church area which is constantly booming with one form of live performances or another.
The Mississippi River, though a muddy churn of dark water, still has pleasant parks to walk along.
I eventually worked my way down to 4 Royal Street, which is a treat for random galleries and tourist purchases of green, gold and purple.
Finally, I stopped by a Voodoo Museum and shopped on my way back to the car a couple hours later.
While New Orleans is a pleasant walking city, the residential areas are decidedly not for driving.
The houses, bright washes of primary colors with narrow colonial columns and numerous balconies dripping vines in the summer, are built right on the curb. Hence, driving the New Orleans grid is a constant exercise in edging around blind corners.
Outer District
Regardless, I stayed within the confusing roadways for a bit longer, making a point of visiting the lovely City Park. It’s home to the Botanical Gardens, Sculpture Park, Historic Miniature Train Garden and numerous tendril rivers with legions of water-faring birds checking hands for bread.
While here, I also got to learn the difference between New Orleans’ Singing Tree and Music Tree. The Singing Tree is an oak filled with enormous wind chimes swaying in an endless, meditative tune. The New Orleans’ Music Tree, on the other hand, is a dead trunk artfully carved with piano notes.
Finally, I ended my visit by going to The Joint, a hole-in-the-wall BBQ eatery.
Long ago, someone recommended the place while we were passing through. Unfortunately, we’d arrived in the city after The Joint’s closing time.
Since then, I have been haunted by the macaroni that could-have-been.
It’s nice to finally have that consuming fear put to rest. The Joint lives up to the wait.
On that happy note, I began my long drive to Charlotte, North Carolina, taking a five hour nap outside of a Culvers halfway through.
In 2018, a great friend did me a good favor by carting back a few things I couldn’t afford to lug around Europe (spare laptop, camera, two ties and a toy car gift).
I’m doubly grateful for the gesture, because it means I now get to visit her for a couple of days.
So, it’s Charlotte and friends next. Until then.
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written January 7th 2019
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The GoPro Hero Black is my go to Action camera. I’m not comfortable bringing my cell phone to many wet and rugged locations, so the GoPro does most of my photographic heavy-lifting. The only things I bring in my GoPro kit are the camera, a spare battery and the forehead mount. I upgrade my GoPro once every two years.
