Molt Be Blog

NOLA

Last weekend, R and I went down to New Orleans to visit her cousin. Bourbon street is just as disgusting as I'd remembered it being, but at least this time I wasn't too hungover to go around taking touristy pictures the next day:

Loy la

Sell Your Stuff

Unbeatable Meat

Hand Made, Cooked in Grease, Delicious

Non-functional

Hummers on their way North

Jackson Square

Pat O'Brien's

Jack the Cat

The first picture on the right there is Loyola, missing the "O". After getting picked up from the airport and going immediately to devour po-boy sandwiches at Mandina's, R's cousin A and her husband took us on a drive around town to see some of what there is to see.

We saw some interesting signs as we ventured across a bridge and out to the Rockville Pike of New Orleans to get a drive through margarita. I remarked that this sign suggesting to "Sell Your Stuff" was remarkably close to a casino. At least it cuts straight to the chase, unlike the next sign exclaiming the ferocity of Wagner's meat, that R must have caught a picture of as I don't' remember taking it. Much like every city I've lived in or go to, New Orleans has the same block-to-block good-to-bad feeling. A lot of people make the same comment about every city: That you can go one block one way and be in the richest neighborhood in town or go one block the other way and be in the poorest. I've found that every city is like this, but in varying degrees. New Orleans is right up there with Baltimore in my book (both having severe economic contrast between adjoining neighborhoods). These pictures of dilapidated signs aren't from the worst area that we saw on our way for some barbecue on our second day there. The level of poverty I saw in some neighborhoods was an insane contrast to the gigantic homes along St. Charles Ave.

Our second day visiting started with some Beignets at Café Du Monde, which we ate on the monument at the South end of Jackson Square. While waiting for Beignets I spotted this rusty old chair, which seemed very out of place. While eating our Beignets, we watched a train carrying Hum-Vees and only Hum-Vees go by for about five minutes. There must have been 200 of them. A's husband, who is in the Navy, pointed out that they were headed to Iraq. The general population of the US doesn't seem to remember that there's a war on, but that train served as a reminder for me.

The next picture is of Jackson Square, where, after shopping around for Hot Sauce and framed Tabasco ads, the four of us sat down for a Mufalleta from Central Market. The horse in the picture has Andrew Jackson sitting on it. Thereby explaining the name of the square, which I didn't figure out for quite some time.

After the sandwich, the four of us headed over to Pat O'Brien's for gigantic drinks which are priced to include the glass that they come in. The glasses are nothing special. They're big and fit a lot of liquor. We were met by A and her husband's downstairs neighbors while trying to finish the glasses in front of us. We headed back to A's condo in the afternoon where I tried a Mint Julip, was disgusted, and opted for a Gin and Tonic. While we were out on the patio enjoying the amazing weather that R and I brought with, the neighbor's cat was climbing around on the window enough that they brought it out on its leash. And there it is.

All for now...