Good Times In The Big Easy

When you read about New Orleans or someone tells you about the place. Whether fiction or factual the stories all seem to revolve around the same thing - Having a good time! The nightlife, the bars, the people and the music all combine to make the Big Easy one of the THE places to let your hair down and just party!

Katrina may have taken some of the people away but the feel good vibe had survived to some extent and whilst the bars may not have been heaving all over town there were places that still seemed to be thriving.

Whilst Bourbon Street may be the main tourist trap and home to bar after bar packed with tourists its still worth an evening spent supping on a bottle of MGD or Bud and catching some of the live music that thrives here. Jazz can be heard all over town, some of it annoying enough to give you a splitting headache in a little over 5 minutes. Jazz may not be my thing but being in New Orleans I gritted my teeth to sample a few bands hoping that somewhere along the line something would click with me. It still hasn't yet! Luckily jazz didn't fill every bar in town!

On my first evening in my new City I'd wound up going into town with a large group from the hostel and we'd taken ourselves away from Bourbon Street to Frenchman Street. Things here were a little different. The bars were full and there wasn't the sleaze around that was synonymous with Bourbon Street. Suffice to say the drinks flowed and as the hours flew past the group had split and I'd wound up supping a pint of "Purple Haze" - A local fruit beer in a place called Mi-Mi's where I had absolutely no idea where I was! That's what good nights are made of!


A few days into my stay in New Orleans and most of the people I'd been with, including me had felt like we'd seen Bourbon Street and hung around the French Quarter for our entertainment enough now. We wanted to get away from the tourists traps and get to actually meet some locals. The decision was made to head into the Downtown area, one we were strongly advised to stay away from, for an evening in the hopes of experiencing something a little different.

What we found was quite unexpected in a lot of ways but makes perfect sense the more you think about it. Initially we dumped ourselves in a couple of bars, these places were packed out and full of local spirit. There was a slightly uneasy feeling that we hadn't been invited but were never made to feel unwelcome. Some of the woman seemed a little wary of us and we couldn't help but think they were wondering why we weren't in the French Quarter with all the other out of towners.

A couple of people were kind enough to point us in the right direction for a decent club for the remainder of the night. If was a mixed bag of an affair and I had a feeling of being well and truly ignored for the most part, then as I was just about to call it a night it all changed. I was stood at the bar about to grab a soft drink before going home when the guy stood next to me got wind of my Nationality. "Let me buy you a drink". I was unsure, but he continued insistent "I wanna introduce you to some of my friends". The next thing I knew I had a bottle of beer in my hand and was chatting to a top bunch of people.

Whilst they wanted to know what the hell I was doing out here they were, all of them, thanking me for being here. I didn't really know what to make of it all. Suddenly we'd become mini celebs for a few moments. "Hey this guys from England, come and say hi" seemed to reverberate around the room despite the noise levels only allowing it to carry to the person next to the man shouting it.


The whole night was turning out to be quite surreal and without doubt exactly what we had been looking for. It didn't stop there either, as we were leaving I was caught and grabbed by a lass outside who, it seemed, had taken an instant shine to me. I have to admit to being totally taken in by her. We spoke for no longer than 30 minutes and I couldn't tell you her name but it was, strange as it may seem, one of those unforgettable moments on an unforgettable night.

The Katrina Effect

I had arrived in New Orleans with a certain sense of unease about my latest location. My desire to see this City despite the events and aftermath of Katrina had brought me here but I was never really sure what to expect. The news coverage of the place had all but died away months ago and I was aware that they were trying to rebuild but the information I was getting was that this was happening at a slow pace. There was certainly a mixed reaction from friends and family to me going here and with good reason I suppose. No one really knew what the place would be like now. Least of all me but I sure as hell planned on finding out.

The devastation caused by Katrina was pretty evident right from the off. Walking up from the hostel towards the French Quarter many of the houses didn't look like they'd been touched since the hurricane swept through. Doors broken or non existent, windows smashed in and just places no better than in ruins. Dirt watermarks could be seen a good couple of meters up on most of the buildings I hadn't really expected the evidence to be so stark, so blatant.

At the riverfront it felt like a ghost town. Barely a soul could be seen anywhere and the kiosks that once would have sold river trips were now vacant. It was an eerie feeling to say the least. I imagined this area would once have been thriving, full of tourists but was now a lost town in its own City.



I spoke to a few people around the hostel or in town. A few were there helping to rebuild the City. They'd been doing it for months and it seemed there was no end in sight just now. The finger of blame has been pointed all around but in truth no single party can be responsible for whats happened or happening. Its a City that has almost been forgotten about but is as much in need now as it was when Katrina hit.

The French Quarter remained largely untouched by the hurricane and Bourbon Street is still thriving. Its vibrant, sleazy debauchery and good time groove still pulse away and it still has a captivating edge. Its people numbers were down to 75% of what they were at its peak and one can imagine the sheer energy the place would have generated with 3 or 4 times more visitors. Its essence is still there and hopefully one day it can get back to its former glories.


Through it all though New Orleans still seems capable of having a laugh at its own expense. T-Shirt stalls abound with Katrina references and possibly only in the Big Easy would you get away with shirts bearing "Katrina gave me the best blow job I've ever had" or "FEMA - Fix Everything My Ass". I wondered how the residents felt about these slogans or those who lost loved ones to the events. Would they be able to laugh at these? I never did find out the answer to that one but I like to think that its a positive move rather than a negative one. I think I may be hoping for too much but after all New Orleans is a law unto itself and a place like no other!

Sometimes you just Marvel!

Its not all that often that you come across inventions or just ideas that you marvel at but here In new Orleans they had a couple of them! The first was something I'd initially seen out in Memphis. I had to double check to see if what I was looking at was indeed what my eyes were telling me it was! Whilst down on Beale Street we'd passed a place that appeared to be a bar, selling drinks out of what appeared to be mini washing machines. Now if that doesn't make you do a double take, very little probably will!

Now here I was in New Orleans, taking in Bourbon Street and the French Quarter when what should we pass but another washing machine extravaganza. Whilst my eyes had now adjusted to seeing such a sight those I was with certainly hadn't! There was no doubt in anyones mind what was going to happen next.

The washing machines were housed in a bizarre looking place. Not quite a bar but not quite a cafe, it didn't really seem to know what it was. It did however know what it was selling. Cocktails and daiquiris straight out of these funny looking washing machine contraptions. These thing would churn around their variously and imaginatively named alcoholic slush puppies and a cup would be poured direct from it. An icy, sludge of a drink, cold as hell and rather lively in the alcohol department they were as much of an experience as the place itself. I dont think I'd go crazy to have another one but when you see something like that, you cant help but want to try it! There's no doubt that we'd just taken in one bizarre but somewhat unique experience!


Even better ideas were afoot at India House, my chosen hostel for the duration of my stay in the Big Easy. Shortly after arriving I'd heard a voice "Hey, how ya doing?" There was no doubt the tone was familiar. Darren and Lewis, two of the English lads I'd met in Nashville were also currently residing here, I had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time I bumped into someone I'd met at an earlier point on this trip. It was hanging around in the outside communal area that I noticed ingenious idea number 2.

There was quite a large crowd of us, nattering and drinking away the early evening when my failure to make a visit to a supermarket or liquor store had resulted in me having a lack of beer. Low and behold I was informed of the machine sat not 10 meters away from me. "Just go get one out of there." I looked on to see a coke machine. "Umm...I was really after a beer." I was instructed to take a somewhat closer look at aforementioned machine.

Beer. Lots of it. Not a can of coke in sight. This was indeed a beer dispensing coke machine. Awesome! Whilst its beer selection may not be about to set the world on fire it had what was needed. No need to go out, no need to do anything. Just whack a dollar in the thing, and take out a nice cold can of cheep American Beer. There was now no need to worry about beer running out or coming back from a night out a fancying a beer only to not have any. Right here we had the perfect solution on hand.



I look forward with interest on the next brilliant idea I may come across!

Decisions, Decisions!

Life is full of decisions. Some you make are good, some turn out to be quite the opposite. Hindsight is always 20/20 but at the time, moire often than not, you have no idea if the decision you have made is a good one or not. Lets take my decision to walk from the train station to my hostel instead of taking a cab.

It was the middle of the day, it was early enough for it not to be getting dark for quite some time and I figured not only would the walk do me good but I'd save a good few bucks by using my feet. It wasn't even as if I was walking blind. I had directions printed off from the hostel booking website. No reason for it not to be easy, surely.

The directions turned out to be next to useless to anyone that didn't actually know the place and on several occasions I had a feeling that I'd missed a turning or was plain walking in the wrong direction. Having walked for considerably longer than I figured for I was almost certain I'd gone too far. These fears were all but confirmed by the looks I was now getting.

As I trudged along, backpack now seeming to weigh a tonne I was noticing how things had rather rapidly changed to where I was just a few minutes before. Large groups of people were gathered outside their homes, families, some looking a little disheveled gathered on porches. Their eyes fixated on me. There was very little doubt now that I was in the wrong part of town and the looks seemed to ask me what the hell I was doing here. They had a point to be fair. I wondered what the hell I was doing here!! Now all I had to do was try and turnaround, walk right past them again all without looking like a complete prat. This, however much I thought I could pull it off was completely and totally unavoidable!

I did eventually find my way to the correct turning and located a two way street with trams running up and down it. Again, my instructions were next to useless. I didn't even know which direction I wanted to go in! I crossed the street several times trying to figure it out. I tried asking a couple of people but got either blank looks or totally ignored. Someone was kind enough to let me know which direction they thought was best. Once on the tram the driver was as useful as my map and it was by luck that a kind man had some idea of where I wanted to go and gave me directions for getting off the tram.

I finally arrived at the hostel a good hour and a half after setting off from the train station. I'd made it but in hindsight I wish I'd taken that cab!

Watching The World Go By - Guided Version

I have to admit that part of what makes me want to travel is simply the journey. The getting to and from. I used to love it when I was a kid. Sitting in the back of my parents car or on a long haul coach, watching everything fly by. Moist of this would have been in France. I just wanted to see it all. I would stay awake as long as I could just to see what was passing me by. Everything always seemed so distant. I remember wanting to jump out of the car or bus and just be in the middle of nowhere for a bit. It was different to me and there was a certain romanticism about it.

I think that all still stays with me now. I still want to do that to this day and the idea of just cruising round France, just winding up in all sorts of little towns and villages still excites the hell lout of me!

I was hoping it would also be part of the fun as I travelled around on this trip. I knew, of course, that not all journeys would be fun and indeed some would be downright nasty but I always prefer to travel by day if I can so I get to see more.

As I left Memphis I knew I had about an 8 and half hour Amtrak journey ahead of me. The trains in the US are renowned for being slow and this, I knew, would be no exception. Still I looked forward to seeing the country that lay before me. That said, being up at 5am to catch a train at 6.50am does very little to put you in a good mood and eager to see things.

As a result my head lay rather still as I slept for the first 4 hours of the journey. Not exactly that ideal, romantic train journey I had in mind. The 2nd half of the trip though sprang into life rather unexpectedly.

As we trundled along we were greeted by a voice over the intercom system. Apparently there were some volunteer guides on this train who would talk us through the lats half of the trip. feeling more alive and refreshed thanks to my earlier sleep I was all ears and in complete appreciation of the little project they had going. It was such a nice touch to have this. It wasn't over the top and anyone was free to ask questions. We may have trudged along but watching the scenery change through my window and hearing some of the stories attached to things we passed couldn't help but bring a big smile to my face.

As New Orleans approached the damage of Katrina was there for all to see. Patches here and there. It looked like someone had gone on a rampage and just tossed things around the night before. It was 10 months on from the devastating hurricane and I wondered what else might await me in the City itself.


As I planned my trip I had gone through many doubts over coming to New Orleans. It was without doubt one of THE places I'd wanted to experience and heard so many great things from so many people. I;d read about the place, books like Catcher in The Rye had given me all the inspiration I had needed to come but the arrival of Katrina had blown my plans right up in the air. Initially I scrapped my plans to visit altogether. It was simple, New Orleans no longer really existed.

The stories of looting, killings and general terror in the City was probably enough to put off most people. 5 people a day on average were murdered in the City. Why would anyone want to go there? I'm unconvinced anyone thought it a good idea for me to continue to include it but as I heard more reports and more news from people more in the know it seemed apparent that more than anything i SHOULD go there. New Orleans thrived on people, a buzz and atmosphere and it needed people back to get that going again. I'd heard the French Quarter, the most touristy area in the City, was largely untouched by the storm. In the end it was almost a no brainer. I was going and now as the train rolled in, here I was.