So the remainder of the trip that I didn't post earlier included museum-ing for the most part. The boys and I did head to Jackson Square to see the exhibits at the Cabildo and the Presbytere, as well as the St. Louis Cathedral.
The cathedral is gorgeous. There just isn't another word to describe it, except maybe "breathtaking." Unfortunately, "breathtaking" serves more than one descriptive purpose, as it's rather stuffy in there, but I didn't exactly inquire as to their status of central air while I was there.
The Cabildo is part of the Louisiana State Museums. It used to be the central government building for the New Orleans region when it was controlled by the Spanish, then the French, then the coonasses. That's the building where I stood in the Louisiana Purchase/Plessy v. Ferguson room. In this room are Napoleon's death mask- reportedly cast by his doctor- and the original headstone for Plessy. The Cabildo contains exhibits regarding the state's history from swampland through Reconstruction.
The Presbytere has two exhibits: 1st floor is Katrina and 2nd floor is Mardi Gras. The boys were very interested in both but didn't get as emotional as I did on the first floor. Without making comments about presidents and mayors and politics in general, it was no less horrifying for me to see displays of the devastation and aftermath this week than it was for me to see it in 2005. The first exhibit you see when you walk in the front door is one of Fats Domino's destroyed pianos, taken from one of his homes and displayed in the same position in which it was found- broken legs, leaning to the side, full of filth. I'm a pianist, and seeing this just made me sad. But then you turn the corner and see one of the garage doors with the spray-painted codes placed on it by rescuers and your heart jumps into your throat. One man who didn't (or maybe couldn't) evacuate kept a daily diary from the day before the storm hit until several weeks after- written on the walls of his apartment. The diary (top layer) was rescued before his building was demolished and it's now on display under glass. The one that sent me over the edge, though, was a simple pair of jeans. A man who owned a business in the Quarter sent his family to a hotel in Houston and stayed behind to protect his business. After the storm, he set out on bicycle to their home to view the damage, but he didn't know whether he'd be hurt or killed while he was out. So he found a pen and wrote his name, birthday, social security number, blood type, and wife's name and hotel phone number on the leg of his jeans. I mean, yes, good thinking, but the idea that someone had to think and act in that way in this country in this day and age... call me a weakling if you will, but that just got me. The Mardi Gras exhibit upstairs is much more fun and lighthearted, and you get not only a picture of historical and modern Mardi Gras, but also the traveling Mardi Gras celebrations still done in rural Cajun towns.
We ate at Mother's on Poydras St. that afternoon. Best red beans & rice I've ever had. They're famous on Travel Channel for their bread pudding, and holy moly, now we know why. Friendly service, great food. You must go when you're there.
We intended to get to the Civil War Museum on Wed. morning before we left town, but an earlier-than-expected lunch date with a cousin in Baton Rouge pre-empted that. We'll hit that one next time. And the boys did get their Civil War fix in the Cabildo, so they didn't feel gypped. Breakfast on Wed. morning was a walk down Royal to Cafe Beignet, next door to the police station. I actually think I like their beignets better than Cafe du Monde, but the coffee at du Monde is better. Older Son thinks that's traitorous of me, however, so we've agreed to disagree. We sat in the courtyard- in front of the police station- and ate as a stray cat (whom the cops have adopted) meandered around, alternately sitting under tables, observing birds, and rubbing against customers' legs.
The boys are crazy about Barq's Red Cream soda, which I've never seen anywhere but Louisiana. I bought two 12-packs and hid them in my truck. Their excitement when we pulled in last night and they began unpacking the truck was exuberant, to say the least. I'm sure the neighbors really appreciated that at 10:45 pm.
Noteworthy: I think the Garden District is so pretty, but there's a ton of construction going on around the Tulane and Loyola campii right now, and I believe it's slated to last several more months. Other than St. Charles, many of the roads in that area are one-lane-one-way, so if you're going in that area, do a little research first. A friend from Coogfans dared me to wear a UH shirt and take a photo in front of the Tulane sign, but there just wasn't a place to park the truck that wasn't an eight-block walk, and we walked enough, dang it.
There's also a good bit of construction going on just north of Canal St. at the beginning of the Quarter, and of course GPSes don't take that into consideration, so with all the one-way streets and the prohibited left turns from Canal onto almost every other street, it's laborious to figure out where you can drive to get to where you wanna go.
There have also been a few shootings- including a Saturday-night shooting of a reportedly rowdy assailant by a police officer- on Bourbon lately, and the news reported that safety in the Quarter (particularly Bourbon) is being re-evaluated for improvements as I type.
And when I say that you really, really don't need to take your kids on Bourbon after about 5-6 pm, I really mean that. I was amazed at the number of couples who had their six-year-olds out at 9pm, trying to shield their eyes from the cathouses. Not only was the chickieboo with the painted-on "bikini top" meandering about, but some of the gals in the doorways of the nudie bars were impossibly skanky. I felt like calling my doctor to schedule an STD exam after just looking in their directions.
But other than the topless chick and the nudie skanks and the shootings, New Orleans is still a fun place to visit, explore, and eat.
