Somehow, the rest of my Tallahassee pictures of this beautiful park and these ugly birds seem to have disappeared into the abyss forever. Ah, well. Moving right along to NEW ORLEANS! After our night at Tallahassee Walmart, we arrived in NOLA on Wednesday the 8th as the sun began its dissent. We found parking in the French Quarter far more quickly and easily than we expected and got right to wandering.
After taking in the extreme sights sounds (and various smells) of Bourbon street and beyond, we decided to crash in the trusty staple of legal sleeping/parking lot at the local Walmart. This was the first Walmart we pulled into that we didn't see any other trucks/RVs parked at. We checked online to ensure it wasn't one of the few prohibited "no-park Walmarts" and it wasn't. The environment made Kevin nervous, although (or partially because?) it had a small police station attached. Although there were no other mobile homes or trucks, the parking lot was full of cars and activity all night. In the morning, Kevin tried to execute our tradition of filling up our water gallon jug from the trusty Walmart drinking fountain and was apparently approached by an employee.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Filling this up with water.."
"You can't do that!"
"Why not?"
"Un-be-lievable!"
With that she walked away, Kevin sheepishly following suit with the jug not even half full. Drinking fountains are free, say I! We pay taxes, you know?
We drove back to the French quarter, straight to the highly recommended cafe au laits and beignets at Cafe Du Monde. As anyone who has been to NOLA knows, mmmmmm.
It took us a while to grab a seat... even though it is "outdoor" they don't allow dogs, unless you can hover by an edge and snag it quick to tie him to the outside. Luckily, as foretold it was worth the wait. From there I enjoyed some more gawking at the vibrant architecture.
We decided to check out a cheap Po Boy spot recommended in one of our travel books. It mentioned it was in an unassuming looking red building that locals frequent, but didn't quite give the impression that it was actually a hole in the wall grocery and a Chinese to-go place on an unlikely and unsafe looking corner a little ways from Louis Armstrong park. So unlikely seeming in fact that I didn't even see Po Boys on the menu inside and thought we were in the wrong place, what with Chinese food being the only thing advertised and the entire staff being Chinese. We were thinking of leaving, but then saw Po Boys written on the outside of the building. So I waited outside with Yoshi and Kevin went in to order one of the chicken variety to split. While waiting outside, I spotted a couple of "Banksy" looking graffiti paintings on the wall across the street and snapped these shots.
As it turned out, we saw a write up on these in a cafe later in our week in NOLA. They were Banksy indeed, the rain representing Katrina. The one of the girl has been covered with a protective plastic slab (which now reads "OMAR" as you see) in order for no one to paint over it, and the article was about that perhaps defeating the entire purpose of the graffiti art itself being temporary etc. The article also mentioned that even taking pictures of the art may go against the artist's desires of the style of art being fully temporary, therefore not capturing it and allowing it to last into the beyond. I don't feel bad about it, though.
We took the Po Boy (K even briefly checking to see it looked like chicken) and found a free parking spot (after leaving a broken meter spot) near Louis Armstrong Park. Of course, as soon as we walk through the park and find a seat by a fountain... we realize it is a shrimp po boy. K is allergic. I say we must go back. He reluctantly agrees. But first, we walk through a free music festival in the park to find a bathroom. Quite a process Then head all the way back to the car and drive back to the shop. K goes inside.
"Hi, I said chicken and this is shrimp... sorry."
"You said shrimp!"
"I said chicken..."
"No. I remember. You said shrimp!"
"Why would I say shrimp? I'm allergic."
Customer #2: "Listen to the customer, ma'am. He knows what he's talkin' about."
So we get our chicken. Phew. We find the same parking spot and walk back to the same bench. It's a delicious and incredibly affordable po boy. That book was right. We ended up trying another one on Bourbon street later in the week. Twice as much and awful in comparison to that unlikely deliciousness from the hole in the wall Chinese grocery.
We hung out in the park and checked out the free music festival.
We watched a gal singer (locally famous, we heard about her later from someone... and we ended up seeing her at a lunch spot too, small city).. and her band "the little big horns".
At some point on this our second day, I got in one of my first internet fights. It's quite a strange story really, and somehow it ended up in us having a place to stay.
I remembered an actor who currently lived in New Orleans had befriended me on Facebook a few years prior. He said he "Saw that I was in Alice" and "was a talented actress" and he befriends talented artists from around the country. He used to be a Chicago actor before moving to NOLA. I thought, hey, this is the only person I "know" in the area, I guess since he's an artist I could see if he's interested in coming to our show. So I wrote him on the ol' fbook. I told him I thought he came to my show Alice a few years back and added me after and that I was in town and if he was interested in checking out my band here is the info for the show and where you can hear the music... no pressure of course!
His response caught me off guard. He said he did not see that show and if I thought he spoke to me after a performance I was mistaken, and if I was just using his "wall" for self promotion purposes as "it seems clear that you are, I wish you would have asked me first. But go ahead and leave it up. Good luck to you." I told him I was sorry about the confusion, and that he was the only person I had accepted "friend" status with on facebook that I didn't know, and I guess how we knew of each other and became connected must have been a misunderstanding. He then responded via private message and told me his wall is used for shameless self promotion all the time, his reason for being "defensive". He said he just listened to some of the music and it sounded interesting, so he would leave up the post but delete our conversation. I however, had already deleted the post and un-friended him, as I thought he was informing me he didn't know who I was etc. He then noticed, and wrote me again... "In addition to deleting the post, you unfriended me over this too? You really don't like being called out on unasked-for promotion, do you? Claire, forgive me for being presumptuous, but you got to toughen up a little."
Yikes. But he also (before and after this mess, during which I assured him he hadn't hurt my feelings, I just didn't realize he did in fact want to be connected on the interwebs... since we apparently had never met. I told him he is the only person I didn't actually know of my "fbook friends" and that he is actually the first non close friend I have ever personally invited to a show. Which I don't think I'll be doing again, since self promotion frankly makes me feel pretty sick anyhow. He ended up offering us a place to stay, and even though things had gotten so uncomfortable so quickly we knew it was supposed to thunderstorm all the next day and we had nowhere comfortable to go the with dog. Especially since Kevin felt especially UNcomfortable at the Walmart. So the following morning we decided to give this stranger a try. I offered to bring wine, he requested a loaf of bread. Stranger and stranger. So we arrive with the bread, and the door is open. He waves us in from the couch across the room and simply states "Today is a terrible day". Do we stay or do we go now? He explains he is busy and overwhelmed and his boyfriend would not be happy if he knew we were staying in his cat's house with a dog so the dog must stay caged and we must be out in two days before the boyfriend's return. But he also graciously offered to allow us use of his bed, fridge, kitchen, etc. Which was much appreciated. The place (and the man) was interesting, and we welcome interesting things. We even went to attend the Pinter show he directed later in the week.
We dropped off our things, cleaned house a bit to be helpful, showered, chatted with some of the other traveling roommates and then headed back out to walk around and romantically end up at Cafe Du Monde at midnight for our 6 year anniversary. Good thing we tried to do that somewhat adorable mushy gesture, since the next day (the actual anniversary) poured from morning til night. We were grumpy and never left the house which we also didn't feel particularly comfortable being in.
That night however, was our first of three "shows" in the city. It was the best attended, and that is not saying much. The local band who was set to open and bring some folks out was a "no call no show". A few friendly folks trickled in as we started our set, and the show went pretty well. 3 songs in a dapper older couple came in and politely listened to almost the entire set. They dropped a nice tip on the way out and left just before we ended. After we stopped, the other audience members excitedly informed us the man in the couple was Allen Toussaint.
"You know who that is don't you? The living legend? In the rock and roll hall of fame??"
"Sounds familiar...."
"He wrote the song 'Workin' in a Coal Mine' and 'Mother In Law'?"
"AH! OK!"
And apparently he's worked with Elvis Costello, Paul Simon & Paul McCartney. Phew. He has also played that venue before and has signed their piano, come to find out:
It was a pretty cool environment, Neutral Ground Coffee House. Ah yes! And they allow dogs! We tied Yoshi in front of us to the piano while we performed, and he contentedly listened like a cutie. A couple of really nice people loved the show and chatted with us for a while after. Also found out that Fats Domino's exercise bike is in the bathroom. What?
We talked into the night with a man who missed the set but was quite a talker and a character as well... he spoke a lot of Katrina and of the impressive musical culture of the city. After he finished orating for an hour or so, we also got a chance to talk with the gal working the cafe, and got her number to potentially hang out (which we sadly never attempted) as well as getting the number of one of the audience member's who owns a restaurant nearby who offered to hang out later that night, but we never ended up able to get in touch with him. A decent end to a pretty sorrowfully wet and dreary day.
The next day was thankfully sunnier. We explored the "Marigny" neighborhood, which is I believe my favorite. That and Bywater, which we thought we were also exploring but may not have walked that far that day.
these moth caterpillars were EVERYWHERE.
We were desperately writing to everyone on the couch surfing website in New Orleans trying to find anyone who would open their home to us and the dog last minute. I wrote over 60 people to no avail for a few days. So when our final day at our current "house" arrived, we were deciding between the crime scene-esque Walmart or ilegally crashing on the street of a nice neighborhood. We drove from our current place to check out the Garden District. While there, I got a call from my grandmother insuring I was alright... she had just seen on the news that there was a shooting in New Orleans at a Mother's Day parade. I assured her we were fine, and that it was probably no where near where we were. Come to find out, the shooting took place on the same block we were staying... it happened less than two hours after we left. If we had walked out of the house during the parade and seen or heard the festivities, we probably would have strolled over to check it out. K was convinced it was the source of the "bad feeling" he had something terrible would happen while we were there. He felt the city held intense darkness, and had been wary of it. 19 people were shot. No one was killed, thankfully.
We wandered Magazine street in the Garden District. There were lots of shops, restaurants and bars. We ended up on a dog friendly patio at a bar called The Bulldog, and ended up befriending the folks sitting next to us. They even shared a pitcher with us! We were tempted to hang out with them later into the night, but we had already planned on returning to Neutral Ground Coffee House for their open mic. So we parted ways and exchanged numbers to attend a show together later in the week, which also sadly fell through (they had to work late instead). When we got to the cafe, it quickly became clear that the open mic was less of an exciting choice than we'd hoped. There weren't many people there, though there was a steady stream of performers. They seemed to disappear outside when they weren't playing, and I was surprised at the lack of support and interest expressed towards the other artists. We played a couple of songs and left after a few hours. We decided to sleep on a street in the fancy neighborhood the cafe was located in.
We drove around looking for a spot and as we pulled into one we noticed there was a security car behind us. It just stopped in the street behind us after we stopped. It stayed there. It just sat. It was unnerving. Finally, it drove away. I read on the vehicle "Off Duty Police Officer Security Unit". Great. He's onto us. Let's find a new spot. So we drove around and parked around the corner from the cafe. Eventually, the car pulled up again! He stopped his vehicle across the street from ours and sat in it, headlights on but still security lights off.
K: "Should we move the car again?"
"No. That's even more suspicious. The worst that will happen is he'll come up and tell us we can't sleep here, and we can just explain we were going to meet a friend but they didn't show up yet and then we can move along."
So we tried to relax. He ended up exiting his vehicle and standing in the middle of the road, staring out with his hands on his hips. Puffed out chest, the works. But eventually he got back in his car and drove away, so we went to sleep. K says at some point later in the night he came back to check we weren't causing trouble once again. A bit of a stressful sleep, but it worked.
The next day we were all set up to finally stay with a couch surfing host. We were thrilled. When we got there, she answered the door in a robe and said she needed to change for a date. We tried to make awkward friendly conversation about the pictures on her fridge. One was of her as a kid petting a very stately looking horse that I commented was "so pretty and posed it almost looks photoshopped" to which she stiffly replied, "Uh, I was there and I pet it was I'd say it was real." Not the warmest gal, but it gets better. She got on her "Oh yeah" dress and left shortly after. We left Yoshi in the A/C finally and went to see a play. When we were about ready to head back we received a text from her saying she and her boyfriend "need some privacy if you know what I mean, so come in the back door." Eeee. We waited a good while before heading back, and the fella was gone and she hung around us and for our first full on awkward bonding attempt.
This bonding attempt on her part mostly meant she told us "I'm not sure what you're into, but just so you know there are a couple of swingers clubs in town I go to, and you guys should come with me. There's also a clothing optional pool/sauna I go to, so we can do that too." Eeeee. This 21 year old is "liberated" and not afraid to offer up the experience to brand new friends, before any drinking of any kind takes place.
Her house was also simply covered with.... naughty accouterments everywhere. She was quite open. At least she was genuine, and after a few days she took a real liking to us. Though maybe it was instant, as she did offer to take us to a swingers club the first night we met.
She had an adorable and sweet Chihuahua as well... which we ended up realizing gave Yoshi fleas. Ah, Yoshi medicine necessities. Should be added to our budget in every situation.
The next day we decided to relax at the local park and bring out our books.
It was so nice we went to the other city park the following day and our host asked us to bring her little dog as well as ours. We love dogs and she was a sweet one, so we agreed.
There was a sculpture garden nearby but it did not allow dogs, so we took turns. It was pretty great in there. They even had a little pond with gondolas.
A lovely day. While waiting outside, we each got a turn listening to the life stories of the security lady. She was a fun and kind character. People sure love talkin' to just about any other people that come across their path just about any old thing down there. It's usually very nice. As it was in this circumstance.
SIDENOTE on Characters of NOLA: There was a guy named "Artie" that we encountered wandering on Frenchman Street in the daytime on I believe our third or fourth day in town. He told us all about his life as he smoked his cigarette outside the venue he "re-builds what everyone breaks every night" for. He told us about how he used to drink tequila constantly like water "mannnn I had a blaaaaast!!" and how he got into a car crash and was in a coma for a month when he was around 30... he now has metal in his head, legs, all over essentially I guess. And now a memory problem (so we heard parts of the story more than once). Before the crash he apparently made a ton of money and had a 6 bedroom mansion, and while he was out his sister found a way to steal it all and his now ex-wife tried to get him off life support, but his mother stopped her. He now lives in a motel "with all the crackheads" and chases young women. He sure loved telling us about how much he loves women. That Artie. We were approached by a European trio close to their 90s looking for what music would be there that night, and as we spoke with the woman (apparently a professional jazz singer at one time) we overheard Artie telling the men all about his escapades and accident and metal body. He was a character, and I wish I could type to you an accurate picture of the strange bottom teeth veraciously biting upper lip every time he mentioned things that excited him or said something he thought was funny. It was disconcerting and amusing all at once.
Back to the day we were on previously. From the Sculpture Garden we went to take the dogs back to the air conditioning before finding a dinner spot for ourselves. This is where the traumatic story begins.
We get back "home", no one is there. We put Yoshi in his crate and leave the littler one out as usual. We walk to a restaurant less than 5 minutes away and return in around an hour. Shortly after our return, we realize we haven't seen the littler dog scampering about. Where is she? The panic begins to creep in. The heart rate increases steadily. We call her name through the entire apartment, tearing apart the piles of under garments that we usually tried to not make contact with hoping she is hiding inside of one. We walk through the neighborhood. We ask each other, do you think in the hour we were gone, the owner came home and took her away? But she went to yoga! Who takes a dog to yoga? We verify she's at yoga with the neighbors. Yep. And people don't take dogs to yoga. We notice there are new suitcase arrivals in the room with the bunkbed we've been staying in. Ah yes, she did mention she has various travelers staying here throughout the week. What if one of them accidentally let the dog out...she is fine off leash, but what if she ran off? Or got hit by a car? Or got stolen? We'd be blamed, surely, since we were the last ones given responsibility of her. We drove her all the way to a park and returned her safely, we were certain! We were blameless! But how does one convince a dead dog's owner of this! We didn't want to care for this dog! One dog while living in a van is enough responsibility for a vagabond lifestyle! Why did this happen? Real. Tears. Terror. I attempt the terrifying phone call to the owner to ensure she doesn't know where this surely dead dog is. She doesn't answer. We can't go on. We'll just lay here in this bunkbed and have a quiet panic attic until she comes home and sorts this out. We tell ourselves we'll feel better when she arrives home with the dog. Of course. Yes.
She arrives home an hour later.
"Hi!"
"Hi...... is Daisy with you?"
"No."
"What?? Oh.... well... we....."
"She's at the neighbors."
"????? AADSKFKDSFKSFKS. Aaaaah -- ok --- see....etc etc"
"Oh. Ok, sorry you were worried. Yeah. She gets lonely so I always leave her at the neighbors. Whenever there's no one here with her I put her over there."
Would have been nice to know. Our lives continued.
The other couch surfers arrived soon after. A lone man (a lawyer roadtripping on his way to move to California... I didn't feel much at ease with his argumentative nature) and a lovely young couple from Montreal. We all shared some awkward conversation as our host went over some amusing "house rules" and some off color jokes, then headed to bed.
On Wednesday the 18th we had plans to meet up with a couple of friends of a dear Chicago friend. They chose a delicious BBQ place called The Joint in the Bywater neighborhood. After a satisfying social and stomach experience we wandered with one of our new pals through Louis Armstrong Park & St. Louis Number 1 cemetery... sadly they close at 3pm, and we walked in at about 2:55. We decided to wander the perimeter and peer through the gates, but a tour guide called out to us as we wandered around the side street: "Woah! Hey! You guys don't wanna step one more foot in that di-rection. Bein' white as you are? This neighborhood is NO. GOOD." So, we didn't. KG had actually already researched the housing projects in the area and knew the most notorious one was next door, but we figured it being next to the French Quarter with people around at 3:00 in the afternoon... it would be safe enough to just stick the perimeter of the heavily touristed cemetery? Nope.
From there we headed back to the house and soon after the delightful Montreal couple (Alex & Amar) invited us to join them for a meal. We were in. It was my first ride in a convertible! I see what the fuss is about. We had a drink and a meal, though the service was less than what you'd hope for from a fancy restaurant. From there we drove to Frenchman street to take in some more music, as you do. After running into the first bar for their restroom facilities (it wasn't just me this time, guys) we settled on the same spot K and I settled on previously. The Spotted Cat always seems to have legitimate music and never any cover, so yes.
We went back to the home base from there and had one last night cap with the three other travelers and the host at the dog friendly spot across the street from the house.
The next morning was Alex and Amar's last in town. We decided to head to Cafe Du Monde before they split, and it was nice to have our third and final beignet experience with our new friends to start off one of our final days in town. Embarrassingly, we had run out of cash the night before and borrowed some money from our new friends and returned it after a Walgreens cash-back run later in the night.... but apparently didn't have enough cash left over for the cash only Cafe Du Monde, so our friends covered a few dollars for us. Very kind of them, but I sure wish we'd had time to get to an ATM before they had to run to their final tour and hit the road. We owe them a Montreal beer someday to ease my Jewish guilt.
We wandered the quarter before preparing for our performance at The Pour House Saloon that night.
That afternoon we decided to take our host (desperate for friendship and growing on us a bit) up on her offer of showing us through the gator swamp foot trails. It was a beautiful area and worth a stroll to be certain. We ended up seeing almost a dozen gators, and I even played with a baby by shaking a weed in the grass... it thought it was a fish and tried to eat it. We worried a Mama would catch wind of our trickster games so we wandered away after a short video, which I'll add in a comment in the next day or two (I can't believe how busy I am with this vagabond-non-work-life, guys.)
The next day was our last full day in town, and I'd had a pretty terrible chest congestion and cough for days... now Kevin was getting sick. We'd had one "real gig" one "not really real gig" and we had another potentially not real gig that night before heading out in the morning. Before thinking too much about if that would be worth putting our throats through, we met up with our afore mentioned new pals (not the French Canadians, the other ones) and after some confusion about where we were meeting we finally got together for Alligator omeletes etc. From there we wanted to finish waling through that beautiful cemetery, and parking the Scuttlebuss near there proved more difficult than expected. Finally we found this spot right nearby, which is behind the 2 white lines designated for crosswalk AND behind the 3rd white line which usually to me says "park behind this one and you're cool, man" -->
Left it with a decent amount of confidence and walked through in under an hour:
Of course, a parking ticket upon return to the vehicle after our short (second) sojourn into the cemetery. Then stuck in french quarter traffic ( filming of planet of the apes, we're told) for 45 minutes. New Orleans was either trying to get rid of us, or angry we were about to leave after our long stay. One of the two.
We only had time for a quick shower before heading to our final "gig". No one that knew anything about the schedule was there, the bartender told us we could "start whenever we wanted and play for how long we want, until the other bands arrived... we knew it was a showcase (Americana Country Bluegrass) and there were supposed to be a lot of bands booked. Sometime after the start time of 9pm, the booking/sound guy arrived and we set up, being told the next band was supposed to start in 15 minutes. The other groups and bar regulars had trickled in and some of them seemed to listen to our short set. We were on and off, and both our voices were fading with all the "gig-ing" and sickness setting in with full force. The other bands all ended up playing 30-40 minute sets, but we didn't mind that we kept ours so brief. A gentleman approached us after we were finished and had missed it, but told us the woman who watched our first gig at the Coffee House had strongly recommended us -- so he bought a CD anyhow! What a gent. He also bought us beverages and sat and talked to us into the night.
All in all, New Orleans was: well, many things. KG felt it held such an intense darkness that although he loved it at times, he doesn't have any interest in returning. As for me, I was quite drawn to the vibrancy of the place. The buildings, the culture, the music... it's all everywhere. It's such a wonderfully integrated city, with talent and intrigue (and yes, potential danger) around every corner. Be wary, but I certainly appreciate the unique NOLA life.
The next day we awoke early and headed for Mississippi.... and KG's death cold began. (*dun dun dun*).
