NOLA Again: Bittersweet (and I'm Not Talking About the Absinthe)

Since it is my last day here I awoke early and rode into the Quarter to do some walking around on my own.  Very soon I was regretting my decision.  By the time I reached the French Market I was sweating uncomfortably and wishing I had not chosen to drag the large camera along.  Good thing I did not take the telephoto lens too.  Since Vieux Carre Wine and Spirits was open by nine, I went in to pick up some lesser-distributed Abita fare to take home.  The two gentlemen shopkeepers were watching the World Cup (Brazil v. Korea, I think).

With my portable AC clutched to my chest I got a call from my mom who was ready to go at the hotel.  I went up to the room to deposit my purchase and cool off.  This morning I suggested we ride the St. Charles streetcar to Audobon Park and go for a walk.  

As we waited for for the streetcar at Canal and Carondelet my mom pointed across the street to a building where she had been at the orthodontist the day Kennedy was shot.

Ironically, during the ride down St. Charles we spoke with a teacher from Dallas who was visiting with her husband (also in a conference).  She lived in New Orleans for a few years when she was in her 20's, so she and my mom compared and exchanged memories.

After we stopped at the park we saw that the weather had changed rapidly during our ride and the storms that were predicted for the afternoon seemed to have arrived early.  Audobon park consists of a lovely tree-lined path that circles a golf course, so I elected that we go in the direction that passed a covered shelter since thunder was now rumbling overhead.  

No sooner had we reached the shelter than the downpour began.  Luckily, it only lasted about ten minutes but as we continued our walk we were dampened by additional sprinkles.  I was glad to have a lens hood on my camera.  As we approached the pond which divides half the park from the golf course we saw that the trees were littered with white egrets.  I wasn't glad to have left the telephoto lens in my room any more.

Not my mom, but this lady's umbrella was very vibrant

The reach of campus police is far and wide

I took a few pictures and we continued until we found a pretty bandstand at the half-way point around the park.  After a few minutes rest we finished the 1.7-mile path and took the streetcar to the end of the line at South Carrollton.

Lunch was had at the Camellia Grill (recommended by the lady from Dallas), a tiny establishment whose only seating is around a long formica counter that bends into large culdesacs to maximize space efficiency.  I has so hungry I rarely came up for breath as I ate my red beans and rice.  What visit to a diner is complete without sampling their homemade pie?  My pecan pie was warmed on the grill and served a la mode so that it was the gooey consistency of fresh pralines.  Even my mom said it was the best she'd ever tasted.  Her coconut cream pie was very good as well.

We rode the streetcar back to my hotel.  During the 50-block ride I admired the mansions and gardens.  The street is so pretty we could have been on a tour bus and here we were on a wooden rickety streetcar for only $1.25 apiece.  We picked up my car at the hotel and drove back to Oak Street and spoke to a really kind resident who was going to be playing in her husband's band at the Maple Leaf later that evening.  We also went into a large consignment store that specialized in formal wear but also had the usual thrift finds.  By the time we were done looking around we were pretty tired, so we stopped at my hotel to take a break and later picked up Dad to go to dinner at Mulates.

Try as we might, we weren't able to chose items on the menu that didn't leave us completely stuffed, but I'm going to take my leftovers home tomorrow.  Dad had a cup of gumbo with with the darkest roux I've ever seen.  Very excellent.  We stayed for a little bit to listen to the live Zydeco music that plays every night.

Later I dropped of my parents at their hotel and drove back to mine so I could leave the car and take the streetcar back to the Quarter. 

Finally I was going to get to do a pub crawl!  We started at the beautiful Carousel Bar in the hotel.  Here they serve classic cocktails at a circular bar that slowly revolves.  If you aren't paying attention you'll suddenly wonder why the door is on the other side of room from where you came in.  I had their quintessential drink, the Vieux Carre (Voo Ca-ray), a variation of the sazerac that is better and smoother than the original.

I bought the next round at the Old Absinthe House where my dad and I had namesake drinks but each made with a different absinthe.  Watching the preparation was, for me unfortuately, the best part.  The bartender poured the green liquer over a sugar cube resting on an iconic slotted spoon (I'd like to buy one for myself someday).  As the blue flames died down I remembered that I had just ordered a $20 drink (FYI in case you want to try one as well).  The herbal sweet concoction was a little too pungent for my liking, so I was very glad when we were given a small bowl of popcorn.  However, if you like that sort of thing I recommend slow sipping because part of their high price tag is the fact that they're extremely strong.  Even though it is served diluted with water it still tastes like neat liquor.  Probably because the brand I had, Lucid, is 124-proof.  I kicked back the last third of my drink as fast as I could to get it over with.

We continued down Bourbon Street, all feeling pretty light headed (my mom's last rum and coke looked like it was made with a tablespoon of coke).  My mom told me about a street performer they saw last year who was wearing "capris leotard pants".  I pondered what sort of garment that might be.  We saw a family, their three children under the age of 12 wide-eyed and jaw-dropped.

Pat O's was busy as usual and we ordered a round of Category 5 Margaritas.  My faith in this bar has been reestablished.  When my mom left to use their bathroom my dad and I watched several small furry rats as they capered in the garden and fought over cocktail fruit remnants.  One was bold enough to scurry right under my feet.  It was getting late and my dad and I were planning to get up early tomorrow, so we went to Cafe du Monde for midnight begnets an cafe au lait.

After a brief and slightly inebriated goodbye, I hailed a cab outside the Monteleone and went back to my hotel to pack and go to bed.