I arrived in New Orleans in the late morning and discovered the quaint Inn was surrounded by pink Oleander trees. I was so awed by their beauty. Before the bags got out of the car, I had to take a picture of the blossoms. So sweet. This is the Inn, the yellow old home. I like it because it has two cats and takes animals. But sometimes the charm isn't enough. Right now, I'm sitting in the rickety charming hotel, riding out a torrential rainstorm. It's very southern; complete with crooked veranda, peeling paint, courtyard filled with night flowering jasmin and a little fish pond. The room is two single beds with an air conditioner, and during Jazz Fest, it's as as good as it gets as the whole city is filled up. To find the bathroom, you go outside, down the veranda a ways. It's reminds me of Mexico, except the tile work is way nicer in Mexico. But certainly, some of the parts we drove through on the way here, looked very third world. An interesting mix of economic scales.
Last night, Malcolm and Ginger, the managers of this tattered but charming inn, put together a crawfish boil for the guests, quiet the Southern spread. I was instructed by a local New Orleans guy how to eat them. Seems like a lot of work for such little meat. Gime an atlantic lobster any day . . . something you can really get pay back on for all the work you put into it!
They boil the little crawfish all up in a pot with cobs of corn, potatoes, onions and serve it with pickles. It's very spicy. There was a live band and nice people, all for the guests and neighbours to celebrate the kick off of the New Orleans Jazz Festival.
Later, we went to Frenchmen Street, to a club where there was a Cuban band and salsa dancing. Just my cup of tea. Hot, hot, hot. The streets were filled with people, the clubs were filled with music and everybody was happy. I'm staying just on the edge of the French Quarter in a mostly gay neighbourhood, so I see a lot of men walking little dogs. Earlier that day, after we all arrived, I went to Cafe du Monde, to have the famous little doughnuts called beignees in Cajun French. A fabulous violinist and guitar player entertained us. The stores are really cool and there are many interesting people to watch.
Today, we went to the fairgrounds to attend the Jazz Festival; a huge outdoor extravaganza. There were bands playing on different stages, food and beer stations, people dancing and then it started to rain. It teased us at first for the first 2 hours, then just got heavier and heavier. We were looked on with envy because we had ponchos and umbrellas, but after a while, even with rain gear, wading through puddles with thousands of people stopped being fun. An early departure was just in time, as the rain only got worse and worse. The fellow we paid 15 bucks to, to park on his lawn, was so nice. We couldn't get to the car because it was way at the front. His niece offered to drive us to the hotel so we didn't have to take a cab. Later, we'll pick the car up when all the other cars will have left. We talked about the hurricane, and how she just moved back into her house after two years. There are many neighbourhoods where the homes are sitting, still boarded up. A sad sight.
It's near 8pm and still raining. Ever since I left Mexico and stopped all the walking and hill climbing, I notice my pants don't quite fit like they used to. I had planned on going on a diet soon, so being holed up in this room with only one can of blue diamond almonds to fight over might just be the beginning.
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