The French Quarter, where we were staying, is a beautiful, living, theme park - not literally, but that's what it feels like: surrounded by the skyscrapers of a modern city are gorgeous Spanish colonial style buildings; some are pastel-British-seaside- town-colours, others, such as the few remaining French buildings, are authentically run down and austere. Others still are decorated with ornate ironwork balconies, dripping with luscious greenery. Even the trees and plants in New Orleans are festooned with Mardi Gras beads. Mixed in amongst the residential and business properties are some impressive, stately municipal and religious buildings, many of which are now museums. Although it is very much alive, lived in, worked and played in, the theme park feel comes from the strict control maintained over the quarter, the entirety of which is protected. The locals joke about needing planning permission in order to touch up the paintwork on their buildings - we were unsure if the remark was entirely facetious. Royal Street and Chatres are choc full of intriguing antique shops, art boutiques and gourmet restaurants, with courtyards full of exotic plants. Even Bourbon Street with its 24 hour drinking, dozens of strip clubs and incredibly loud Blues, Rock, Jazz and Karaoke - competing to deafen passers by - seemed oddly congruous: it was always the epicentre of the city's debauched reputation.
Stray far from the madness of Bourbon Street, though, and you are bound to hear the true sound of the French Quarter - whether it be a busking saxophone player, a Jazz quartet who've just struck up in a nearby cafe or a guy with a guitar playing requests - New Orleans is buzzing with the sound of excellent music, all of which you can hear for free! It's probably one of the things I'll miss the most.
We did tons of touristy things whilst over there; we went on a swamp tour and saw Alligators!, did a Vampire tour, visited St Louis Graveyard and Cathedral, the Historic Voodoo Museum, we learned all about how General Jackson kicked our butts when we tried to invade New Orleans :(, ate some Alligator!, drank some hurricanes, took a steamboat cruise and visited a plantation. Phew! We also did some decidedly un-touristy things (some of which might have been ill-advised, but more on that later). Frenchman Street was probably our top under the radar discovery: still within the French Quarter (but well off the tourist track) this seemed to us like where the cool jazzy blues mofos came to play, and we saw some memorable performances there. A certain bow tie, pale suit, braces wearing hero stands out though - he sat himself down on a bar stool with his guitar and played some of the most impassioned country and blues music we saw all fortnight. His voice and musicianship were faultless, but it was the shear intensity of the man's gesticulations which had us enraptured - I only wish I'd had my camera with me to capture his incredibly physical emphases.
Stay tuned for Book II of Epic Post (What? It's 02:00 in the morning and I have work at 09:30).
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