Once again I find myself in a City. City with a capital C, it is an entity all to itself. It smells the fear on me before I ever make it to the border. I get lost immediately, which is fine. I quite enjoy being lost – I get to see some interesting things that way. I eventually follow the signs to the french quarter, wanting to see what everybody else raves about here.
The narrow one-way streets and billions of parking information signs confuse the senses. I park at least four times before finding a spot that I am legally allowed to be in. I pop around for a while, with no sense of where I am.
I see quaint business fronts:
I see secret courtyards, with not-so-secret trees sprouting from them:
I see a very cool band playing on Jackson square:
I take a picture to prove that I was here:
But there are too many people here and my parking money is about to run out. So I leave. I drive to the ninth ward to see how the rebuilding from Katrina is going. I’m surprised to find a pretty nice neighborhood. Lots of new buildings, lots of renovated buildings, only a small percentage with the X:
Night falls, and I head for a wal-mart. My intention is to get up early and get some less people-filled shots of the french quarter. And so I do, with only a few people still hanging on in the bars at 5 AM. I see bourbon street in its neon wonder:
I see the cathedral by lamplight:
And all the lovely tiny tidbits are are too easy to walk by in a hurry:
Photographic deeds one, I wait for light to hit the sky and then take the dog to the park. He’s not allowed in the ‘dog park’ section, they require a permit which I don’t have. So we find a hurricane-damaged golf course that has been abandoned. He runs and chases sticks as I work out. We eat lunch, and then head for the hills.
I told a friend that I would try a drink in Lafayette if I was ever in the area, and I head west through the boot of Louisiana, towards smaller towns.