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| Day 10 - Saturday, 31 August 2002 |
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| Setting: New
Orleans Garden District (to include Pontchartrain
Hotel), Streetcar 907 (whom I like calling Desire), a restaurant
whose name escapes me, and some other stuff you'll read about in a
minute.
Today's Cast:
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7:30am - We wake up. Feeling no need to rise and/or shine, we lounge in a reasonably comfy bed.
9:18am - The need to rise, but not yet shine, has become overwhelming. We get up.
9:55am - Boy and I meet up with Julia, Mom, and Aunt Julia for a morning wander along the trolley line.
10:02am - We stopped in at the cafe at the Pontchartrain for breakfast, eventually gathering the entire party.
11:11am - Our trolley arrived. We boarded; the boy paid the fare of $1.25 through a proxy... I was smuggled aboard at no charge.
11:27am - The adventure took us by a myriad of wonderful, older-styled homes along St. Charles Avenue (like this one, this one, and this one.)
11:32am - We passed what was first, mistakenly identified as a Baptist church, but turned out to be one of the bigger buildings of Loyola University. Which is not to suggest there weren't slightly smaller buildings also on the campus.
11:39am - As people continued to get off the streetcar, I finally managed to score my own seat.
11:46am - The trolley hit the end of the line, and we got off, paid the $1.25 to get back on, and headed back to the neighborhood of the hotel.
11:55am - There was a brief delay when a less-than-brilliant woman driving an older Taurus stopped in the path of progress. I mean, I don't expect much from anyone who drives a Taurus, but to her defense, at least it wasn't a Taurus station wagon.
11:57am - We again encountered more nice houses along St. Charles Avenue... but the other side of the street this time, including here, here, and here)
11:58am - Apparently, to sell product in N'awlins, you gotta talk like N'awlins folk.
12:02pm - Things mesh together where old meets new in select areas... it usually works out, but not always. (Not sure where this would land in a coin toss.)
12:06pm - At long last, and without really trying, we found the St. Charles Avenue Baptist Church (website).
12:45pm - The tables at this place for lunch were actually 3-D under the laminate. The service was ho-hum, but man, those tables...!
1:53pm - We were rushed into leaving by the driver of the city tour guide; despite the company telling Julia when she made the reservation to be ready at 2pm, the driver was under the clear and distinct impression we were told 1:30-1:45pm... as such, he was a bit impatient with us. (Please note, this was to be a foreshadowing of the next few hours.)
2:36pm - We spent the last 39 minutes driving between four hotels, finally back at our hotel to pick up the couple that didn't make it initially, I suspect, because they were also told the wrong time by the phone folks. There are eventually a total of 13 people plus the driver in the 14 person van. The air conditioning is either off and you can hear a very shallow description of New Orleans history, or is on (but not cooling too effectively) and you can't hear anything about how Nicholas Cage's nephew considered once renting a flat in a row home on Royal Street, or whatever he was saying.
3:38pm - The van is stopped at a laundromat, on the indication refreshments were available. No, wait, my bad, he suggests -- they no longer server drinks (but they do have a Coke machine that takes dollar bills). At this point, we've had enough. Julia tells the driver we're taking off, which seemed only fair. After some back and forth with his manager (to whom we couldn't speak directly), we pay half of the full fare (half of the tour over, however uncomfortable it proved to be to several).
3:41pm - Dude driver comes in to see how many people were in our party; we told him. He's missing another couple. Apparently, we weren't the only ones that were not comfortable and enjoying his random narrative... but the difference being, they just left... all told, he's already out $180 between the balance of what we didn't pay, and them taking off. So, the tour company you want to avoid is Cajun Encounters advertising swamp tours (despite it being a city tour... although you felt as though it was a swamp tour in the back of the van.)
3:47pm - A cab we called for arrives. We all get in. Cabbie dude turned off the engine, and the car wouldn't start. Groovy.
3:49pm - We jumped out and into another cab, driven by a rather jovial chap who managed to get us back to the hotel without further incident.
3:58pm - Back at the hotel and in a room that wasn't just fan cooled, but air-conditioned. Because even a teenage duck can distinguish between re-circulated warm air, and Freon-cooled air.
4:32pm - In a burst of unrelated cleverness, the boy just now figured out that if he was a frequent flier club member, he's be racking up miles for all of these trips for use at a later time (like a Frank trip to Hawaii next year, duh.). He's in the process of completing his membership now, newly issued membership number 031410570... never mind, I've said too much.
4:49pm - Tubby realizes the lunch he had some three hours ago is already starting to fade, but I think it also has to do with the interest in having something in the way of a bill smaller than a $20, which is kinda awkward to spend in a cash-driven area (cabs, tips, etc., all aren't focused on $20s...).
4:53pm - We began our 13-block walk. I wasn't sure what Baldie had on his mind, but given his prior brainstorms, I was apprehensive, to be sure.
4:58pm - For those of us that never look up, their secondary means of identifying intersections was quite welcome.
5:09pm - Yup, apprehension was in order. After dining in such places as Belle Luna, House of Blues, Arnaud's, and others, I guess I was expecting just a little more than this.
5:14pm - If nothing else, I'll admit the boy has a flair for really impressing a girl. I mean, it was like a buffet, all laid out for me.
5:15pm - It wasn't long, though, that I noted that the order didn't match the presentation of chicken nibbles... we seemed to be light one in the delivery department. Conclusion: The afternoon shift can't count from one to nine without skipping a number.
5:33pm - We departed, reasonably stuffed (more so myself than the boy, of course), we headed back. In the process, passing some nice houses and townhouses, and of course, the streetcar, for which the boy is particularly queer for seeing.
6:06pm - Julia called up, and we wandered down to the lobby to regroup, and then headed out to wait for the streetcar. (And yes, the lobby is painted with a sky scene and some grape vine accents.
6:14pm - One of Julia's kin tried to get her to put her ear to the track and listen for the approaching streetcar, but she declined. I, both by personality and heritage, am game, so I tried it... but heard nothing.
6:23pm - We all crowded onto the already full car, and traveled downtown. From the very, very front, it did offer a reasonably cool perspective of the journey.
6:33pm - We got off the streetcar at Bourbon and Canal Streets, just as a New Orleans police motor officer screamed into the intersection, lights and siren, and stopped. Sure, we're thinking funeral or VIP escort, since there didn't seem to be an emergency. Nope -- wedding procession. Apparently, you may not be able to buy your own cop, but you can rent the city's.
6:46pm - We ended up at the House of Blues for dinner, and were seated almost immediately. We were served by Daniel, who was both attentive and helpful about events and such things. The coup of the evening was when he brought the check, and provided us with a pen... a FrankPen! Not one to kiss and tell, I didn't want to exposé this young man as the very same chap who gave me a little peck on Day 5 (Monday, 26 August). The walls are adorned with what is reported to be the largest collection of folk art (relative to the state, U.S., or whatever, I don't know...).
8:48pm - We all left the House of Blues, grabbed a couple of trinkets that we were to purchase for various friends and family. Julia and family boarded up a cab to head back, but given this was our last night, we weren't quite ready to retire for the evening. We parted ways with hugs and waves (with our 8:45am flight, we were going to be out of town before an hour when decent folk would awake).
8:53pm - Walking by the 8th District station, we bumped into an amusing ornament on the New Orleans Police Department's fence.
9:22pm - We bumped into Julia's brother on Bourbon Street, so we wandered around for a bit before parting way again.
10:25pm - Now, perhaps it's just the author in me, but this sign is either very poorly written, or it's deliberately confusing.
10:49pm - I missed the chance to see this guy in action (he was taking a break), but he does these fantastic paintings using only spray-paint. The final product is nothing short of impressive. (We considered purchasing one, but the issue of keeping it flat in flight posed too much of a dilemma to resolve at the last minute... but next time we're in town, we'll look for him.)
11:08pm - Boarded Streetcar # 16 (St. Charles) to return to the hotel. Cost of fare: $1.25. Cost of Diet Pepsi and water: $3.00. Rubbing elbows with locals: Priceless. So, we're in the back, and the woman seated at the rear of the streetcar (Renee) begins talking to Ponce about job openings where he works (she asked him where he worked, as it appeared he was leaving work). They got to talking, and she's going to go in on Tuesday about a job there. Then she and the boy started to chit-chat about the weather, the ill-fated tour today (she indicated Cajun Encounters wasn't a very reputable place, by the by), where we're from and all that. This is the best - Tubby actually introduced us, and then gave her a FrankPen for the U.S. Tour 2002. By the time we got off the train (at the same stop, 2100 block of St. Charles), she'd asked if we'd like to go out for a beer or something. We politely declined, owing to the early flight (we take off at 8:45am, and with the two hour early arrival, furthering the evening could make Tubby a grumpy panda when traveling.)
11:27pm - Back at the hotel and retiring for the evening.