So we left off with my going out to my car (through the lobby, thus giving the desk clerk a nice view of my backside), driving off and realizing I’d left my room key…in the room. Oh well, get another when I go back.
The sky was overcast, cool and slightly windy at times with rain threatening. Not a typical January day, but what’s a typical day now? The drive to the French Quarter was uneventful, and I found a parking space in one of the lots near the river. I’d even managed to park close to the French Market. Half the Market is an open-air produce market that’s been in business for over two hundred years. The other half is a big flea market that’s stuffed with tourist stuff, music, jewelry, etc. I wandered through the market and found a nice little fleur-de-lys necklace and of course we haggled over the price. Somehow, paying list down there feels wrong…
I did not have any real plan, other than a few places I wanted to drop in on. I sort of wandered up the Quarter towards Bourbon and Conti. If you’re looking on a map, you’d say I was going southwest. Which is right, but wrong. See, directions in New Orleans are based not on compasses but water-Lake Pontchatrain and the river. The lake forms the upper boundary of the city; anything in that direction is Lakeside. The river flows around the lower part of the city and to the eastern side then south to the Gulf of Mexico. Thus, heading along the river’s mouth is Downtown; away from the flow is Uptown. Of course anything directly on the river is Riverside. And the other side of the river from New Orleans? That’s the West Bank; trust me, it’s easier if you go along…
I window shopped, found a plus size shop near Jackson Square that had a cute dress (but not in my size). I found the place on Bourbon I was looking for, but the person I wanted to see wasn’t there anymore so I started heading back down Bourbon to end up on St. Philip and Royal. I was at the corner of St. Ann and Bourbon, and the woman running the Lucky Dog cart asked where I got my skirt. Now, Lucky Dog is a New Orleans institution-hot dog-shaped carts that serve dogs that you’ll eat happily when drunk but probably shouldn’t sober. The vendors are…colorful. Anyway, I started talking to the woman (who called herself Raven) and it was a half hour later before I left. That’s not unusual-you’ll get into a conversation with a total stranger and find out things you never knew. This doesn’t happen in other cities…
I finally got to Fifi Mahoney’s (Royal and St. Paul), which was for many years my wig and makeup source. Marcy, the owner, was in but really busy so we did not get to talk much. The shop’s the same-funky yet fun, with a big wig selection that goes from cheap costume to wild custom made pieces.
I ducked out and went across the street to the Community Coffee House for a latte and cinnamon roll. New Orleans is a city that loves coffee; the native brew is strong, dark, and will jumpstart dead Battlestars. The traditional place for cafe au lait is Cafe du Monde-which also has those deadly beignet (a fried dough sort of like a holeless doughnut) which exist to get powdered sugar all over your outfit. Starbucks has had an uphill battle fighting established locals like Community, PJ’s and Rue de la Course and the indys.
After refreshment, it started to rain, finally. Fortunately I’d brought my umbrella in my bag and managed to not get too wet. Another trip back to the flea market because I decided that the hat I’d seen earlier I just had to have, then back to the car to end the afternoon. Driving back to the hotel I decided to take a roundabout way down St. Charles, which is still one of the prettiest streets but the roads are terrible. When I got to the hotel, I walked up to the desk with my ID and asked for another key; the clerk was very professional and I was off to my room with my bags and time to get ready to go out later and meet my new friend…