#219 Visit Bourbon Street And The French Quarter

Mardi Gras Trees. So pretty and colorful! 

So here is how my first experience with the French Quarter felt:

As we walked down the sidewalk and turned the corner, I found myself completely stunned and speechless. As humans it is natural for us to connect with other humans. Some we gravitate towards on a much deeper level. And then there are those exceptional people we come across that are kindred spirits.

When you connect with a kindred spirit on a platonic or romantic level, it is as if your very being becomes magnetic. The draw is undeniable. Kindred spirits will always find a way to one another.

Friendships pick up exactly where they left off even if it has been years in between meetings. Strangers become close friends with one conversation because they can communicate and connect as if they spent a lifetime as friends. Lovers can have the most trying of arguments, swear they will never speak to the other one ever again, go for what seems like an eternity without seeing one another, yet the magnetism of their attraction will draw them back together time and time again.

Some people are just meant to be in each others lives. Some people are meant to cross your path for a short time while others are meant to cross your path and remain on that path.

My first look at the French Quarter. The Upper Pontalba Building.

I believe we can also have an affinity to places. Have you ever visited somewhere and found yourself overcome with this sense that you have been there before? Perhaps it was a dream? Perhaps another life?

A spiritual connection from deep inside you pulses through your veins as you take in the view. You close your eyes and breathe in the air. You can actually feel the energy emanating from your surroundings. It feels so natural, so familiar. It is as if you have arrived home after a prolonged absence. It's as if you have always belonged to that place. It was your place and it beckoned you home. This is how I felt about New Orleans.

As I turned the corner into Jackson Square I was overcome with feelings that are so hard to describe. And for me to not be able to describe something is unusual. If there is one thing I am not usually at a loss for, it is definitely words. The best I can say is it was a mixture of excitement, euphoria, and nostalgia laced with an undertone of melancholy. I was elated and comfortable but also a little haunted. There is only one other place I have visited where I had felt such a powerful connection to my surroundings. That place was Martha's Vineyard and even that paled in comparison.

This old tree has probably witnessed so much. 
The untold history that nature witnesses is fascinating. 

I made it to the French Quarter. I was so happy. 
The sun was shining down on me. 

It took me a moment to compose myself. I was not expecting this rush of emotion. I turned to Michelle, my face beaming. I was determined to experience The French Quarter right to it's core. I do this everywhere I travel. I try to experience as much of the root and soul that constitutes my destination as I possibly can within my time frame. You will see what I mean as the story goes on because I am aware of the fact that I am beginning to talk "Fess-speak" which can be very difficult to translate.

Gorgeous St. Peters Cathedral

Michelle and I strolled around, absorbing our surroundings. There was so much to take in. It was more beautiful and ornate than either of us could have ever imagined. We turned another corner. Ahead of us was the Riverfront Park and the Mighty Mississippi.

We headed towards the park. There were so many people roaming about yet I did not feel crowded at all. Peace and happiness had washed over me. I was truly on an adventure and it was a great one indeed.

I couldn't help but think of the novelist Anne Rice everywhere I went. She had lived in New Orleans most of her life. Being a huge fan, I had read the first four books in her Vampire Chronicles and reading the entire Vampire Chronicles has made it to my bucket list.

In "Interview With the Vampire" she touches on modern day New Orleans but goes into great detail describing 18th century New Orleans. Everywhere I looked, I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to picture what it may have looked like in the 18th century. My mind painted beautiful scenery with assistance from Anne's incredible detail.  I truly am an old soul reincarnated and I love it to my core.

We crossed Decatur and followed St. Peter Street to the bank of the Mississippi River. I inhaled the cool air that was breezing off the river. So this was the 2320 mile river that liked to flood its banks I thought to myself. This river vertically divides almost the entire country into two halves. East Side/West Side. I noted that if I were to cross this river, there would be no Tastykake Cupcakes on the other side. (It's a Pennsylvania thing.)

The Mississippi was a grand old river that had witnessed many changes. At one time only rafts and canoes traveled along it's banks. Now diesel powered ships glided through it's waters. When I think of the Mighty Mississippi however, I imagine steamboats equipped with fancy balconies lining each deck of the ship and big paddle-wheels calmly rolling through the water.

The Steamboat Natchez

Ironically as this thought came to mind I glanced to my right. There was an enormous steamboat sitting in port. It was the Steamboat Natchez and I was immediately in love with it. I wanted so badly to take a ride on this steamboat. Riding in boats is one of my most favorite things. It is so incredibly relaxing and restorative mentally for me. There is something about gliding through water in the open air that intoxicates my soul.

It is rare you will find me sitting inside a boat. I am usually parked on the deck for the journey. The higher the better. Experiencing sunset on the deck of a boat sailing through the ocean is something everyone must do before they die. There is nothing like it. Unfortunately, on this trip, we did not have the time to ride the steamboat. I put it on my to-do list for my next visit to NOLA. I WILL be returning there. Hopefully many times.

Toulouse Street Wharf. This is actually a mall. The most beautiful mall ever. The architecture is stunning. 

We started walking along the bank towards Cafe du Monde. I was too excited to be hungry but I knew if I didn't eat I would get all shaky and dizzy. That is never fun. Besides, the beignets are what inspired this trip in the first place. I was reluctant to come down from the banks of the river though. We sat on a little green bench for a while. I just wanted to be near the water. I had not taken enough of it in yet. Michelle was talking to her daughter on her cell phone. I just sat quietly, staring at the water, the faint sound of a jazz band drifting through the air behind me.

I thought about the recent disruptions and set backs in my life. I thought about how I was going to regroup. I don't what it is, but there is something about being near water that puts my mind at ease and my soul at rest. Being a Virgo, which is an earth sign, makes this all the more curious to me. Nature definitely brings me peace, but there must be a water sign in one of my major houses. I really needed to get a chart made.

Anyways, I was finally ready to go to Cafe Du Monde. The faint smell of heavenly fried dough was reaching my nostrils. As we were coming down the stairs from the riverbank, there was a little plaza with a fountain. In the middle of the fountain was a colorful, metal sculpture of jazz musicians. My mind immediately drifted to Satchmo.

"And I think to myself, what a wonderful world." The tears welled up in my eyes. They were good ones though. I knew I was going to be okay.

One of my favorite sights in The Quarter. My lucky fountain. 

I walked towards the fountain to take a picture. I also liked to throw change into fountains to make many wishes. As I looked down to grab some change out of my purse to make a wish, I noticed a five dollar bill at my feet. I picked it up and looked around for it's owner but no one is around. Michelle was still at the foot of the stairs. I think it was Satchmo letting me know good things happen when you least expect them to.

Good things happen when you are not looking for them. They happen when you learn to let go and move forward. Michelle walked over. I showed her my treasure. I could use this five dollars for my beignets. It only seemed fitting. There are no coincidences. Everything happens for a reason. Life runs spherically. Everything comes full circle eventually.  Satchmo wanted to treat me to beignets. Thank you Mr. Armstrong.

We made our trek to Cafe du Monde which I will tell you all about in the link below since it has it's own spot on my Bucket List. For now, let's proceed with the rest of my wanderings around the French Quarter.

#5 Eat Beignets At Cafe Du Monde

The glorious and heavenly Cafe Du Monde.

After experiencing fried heaven at Cafe Du Monde and having a few laughs, we found ourselves walking Decatur Street back towards St. Philips Street. So many interesting, eclectic and voodoo-esque shops with very creative names lined the streets. Some of the wares they were peddling were just as creative and unique as their names. Unfortunately all the alligator meat I found was way too expensive. It was also canned. Not to keen on canned meat. I grabbed my dad some shot glasses instead for his collection.

This was a fun shop! 

The names of some of the seasonings and hot sauces were a riot!

As we continued walking down the street we came across one of the greatest ideas of all time, an adult slushy bar! Why should kids all have the fun? Michelle and I were more than happy to enter Big Easy Daiquiris to check out the flava! We checked out the sizes too. We both had our sights set on the largest one, a 32 oz. beauty.

I walked over to the gentleman manning the counter. I explained to him that I would really like to get a large slushie but am afraid of getting brain freeze trying to drink it all in the shop. I wanted to know if the NOLA cops would think we were drinking sodas or if they would know we had alcohol slushies.

The gentleman gave me a curiously strange look. I said the word "soda" again. That had to be why he was smirking at me. He asked me where I was from. I told him Pennsylvania. He then asked me if we had to hide alcohol on the streets of Pennsylvania. I told him yes. Yes, we do have to hide alcohol on the streets of Pennsylvania. It is illegal to walk around in public drinking an open container of any alcohol in Pennsylvania. He appeared to find this very amusing. He started laughing really hard.

Adult Slushie Bar?? Yes Please. I will take the largest you offer. 

"Man, you guys need to learn how to party up in the North. What a shame. Here in Naw'leans the party never stops. You can take this drink with you baby, walk all over the place and the cops will not say a thing to you. Welcome to the party baby! What's your poison?"

I smiled broadly. This man certainly had a way with words. When in Naw'leans do as they would right? Hell yeah! I immediately informed him that I would very much enjoy the Hurricane slushy since it originated right here in Naw'leans. I also asked him if my annunciation Naw'leans was correct. He told me I said it perfectly. I was already a local. I began to giggle like a little kid watching him pour my large Hurricane slushie.

My Hurricane Slushy. It was bangin! 

I ordered the extra shot of alcohol of course. Why wouldn't I? Michelle chose the classic Strawberry daiquiri. She was just as excited to try it as I was. They tasted incredible. They were definitely generous with the spirits down here. These babies were strrroooonnnggg!

You definitely got your money's worth that was for sure. We tipped our engaging slushy man then headed out into the streets with our enormous styrofoam cups of  alcohol infused slushy goodness.

I felt like skipping while singing "God Bless America" but I composed myself and slurped away at my drink instead. I may have given myself brain freeze a few times but no Fs were given that day.

We wandered back through Jackson Square making our way towards the infamous Bourbon Street. As we were taking pics and enjoying the culture of the French Quarter, I heard a man playing a drum. I began dancing. (I can't help it. Dancing is in my blood.) He saw me dancing and called out to us. We walked over to the wrought iron bench where he was sitting. I took a seat next to him and struck up a conversation. He was an animated man with a booming, joyful voice. His aura was gold. He was definitely a good soul.

My drummer friends from Ghana. I think of him often and hope he is well. 

Jackson Square

Curious about us, he asked where we were from. We told him Pennsylvania. He gave a hearty chuckle and acknowledged we were a long way from home. However, he informed us that he had us beat. He was from Ghana. He came over to The States with his brother for work. His wife was still over in Ghana waiting for him to bring her over. He comes to Jackson Square on his days off from work and plays the drum to earn extra money. He then sends the money to his wife.

He was a very sweet, very endearing man. Kindred. There was a gentleness in his eyes and a softness in his voice as he began telling us more about his family. He pointed to his drum and asked me if I liked drums. I told him it was my most favorite instrument because my father is a drummer. He let out another hearty laugh, his face beaming. Drummers are the best people in the world he exclaimed!

I could not have agreed more I assured him. He asked if I would dance if he played me a song. Of course I would I informed him. There was only one catch I told him. I would gladly dance for him if he allowed me to take his picture. He flashed his bright, amiable smile again. After I took his photograph, his large hands began tapping the drum.

He definitely had a great rhythm going on. I had a blast dancing around in Jackson Square to the beat of the drummer man from Ghana. Others walking by joined in. It was so great. After his song ended, I tipped my kindred spirit and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. We wished him well and hoped he and his wife were reunited soon. Humbled, he thanked us, while encouraging us to enjoy the rest of our time in New Orleans. He also wished us safety. That statement was what really made my heart fill with warmth. Safe journeys for all indeed.

And all these little things.....

Paradise on Earth! 

We exit Jackson Square. I am still entranced by the decor and architecture of this city. The Historic French Quarter was the epitome of shabby chic style blended with ornate and elaborate 17th and 18th century French architecture. A splash of Colonial influence could also be seen throughout the Quarter. Everything was vintage and resplendent.

I looked to the sky and gave many thanks that Katrina had spared the French Quarter. This area was inveterate. It could never be replicated anywhere for one simple reason. The French Quarter was very much alive with the spirits of the past. They were telling their stories with each step we made. The old bones of the Quarter was what made it so alluring and bewitching. You could sense it in the air. You could see it in your mind. There was no way you could replace that.

As I got lost in my thoughts, I realized we were on Bourbon Street. Yes! We had arrived. Mardi Gras beads were still hanging from many of the street signs. I wanted to climb up and grab them but even Michelle could not reach them and she is over six feet tall. Bourbon Street was definitely hopping. Jazz and Zydeco music was thumping from the open doors and shuttered windows of all the bars, restaurants and shops. The green, gold and purple decorations from the Mardi Gras festivities were everywhere.

We have arrived on Bourbon Street.

Gorgeous, colorful shoppes and buildings

Carriage rides on Bourbon. 

Tropical Isle on Bourbon and Orleans

After doing the tourist thing on Bourbon, we were starting to get hungry. We began our search for an awesome hole in the wall bar with some great Cajun/Creole cuisine. We found ourselves back on Decatur. There were two younger kids standing outside the Walgreen's tap dancing while a crowd of admirers check out their moves. Somehow I end up being a street performer.

I talk about it here.

#122 Make Money As A Street Performer

After displaying my mad skills as a tap dancer, we made our way around Krazy Korner and spotted a bar that looked really cool. We walked in to check it out. Unfortunately they did not serve food until after 4PM but we got a kick out of what was written on their drink special sign.

We found ourselves on St. Peters Street again. I saw the word crawfish outside of a bar and was instantly drawn to it. Michelle was looking for a really good burger. We decided to go in and check out the menu. Yo Mama's turned out to be a great choice.

The food was amazing. I got to enjoy an authentic Louisiana crawfish boil complete with newspaper and a wash rag. I talk about that Bucket List accomplishment in the link below. The service was wonderful too. Tequila was on point. And the bathrooms were quite amusing as well.

#15 Have An Authentic Louisiana Crawfish Boil

Your Mom. Just kidding. Yo Mama!

After our wonderful lunch we strolled around the Quarter a little more before making our way back to the car. We walked past a rag tag band on Royal Street. The woman singing had pain in her voice as the band played the blues beside her. It made me sad. This was my cue. It was time to go. I take it all in one more time, very acutely. I wanted to make sure it burned into my memory although I knew it already has.

I had only spent an afternoon in the French Quarter of New Orleans but in that short period of time, I made memories that will last me forever. Or until I lose my mind. But, if I lose my mind I can just come back here and read all about it. That is one of the great things about blogging.

I often think of the people I met and the places I visited on that sunny Ash Wednesday afternoon. Eventually I hope to get back down to the Big Easy and explore even more of the Quarter and the city. But, if I only ever get to experience this one afternoon, I know I did it right because I feel so full inside. I feel like I really delved deep into the culture and experienced the wonderment of the French Quarter.

Il faut je fais route NOLA.


Chrissy