New Orleans

On my second night, we went to a bar called Snake & Jake’s Christmas Bar Lounge. It appeared to be a shipping container strung with red lights. I felt as if I were in the opening credits of True Blood.

It was good! There, a bright eyed young girl who had met me only hours previously told me dark things about her past and her last relationship. It fit perfectly.

One of the mansions along St. Charles hired a movie production company to decorate their property for Halloween. Here are the results:

One lazy Sunday, we tried a new dessert place. Dessert counters fill my heart with delight.

My friend had a salted caramel cupcake, and I tried the Earl Grey truffle. Both were heaven.

My friends have become foodies of sorts and this is a breakfast-in-bed that one of them made for me.

I spent some time wandering the French Quarter because I was a tourist. You’ll be proud of me, though. The most egregious souvenir I purchased was a magnet with little crawfish for my mom. This is a hotel famous for its cornstalk fence

It was quite common for streets to be closed to cars. Instead, they would fill with people: musicians, homeless-looking artist kids, and yeah, other tourists.

I didn’t think it was much like old Orleans at all, but it did have alleys and outside dining, so it felt vaguely European.

The St. Louis Cathedral interior

The exterior

A few years ago at Cafe Beignet, I made the acquaintance of a friendly boy-cat. (Pictured on the right). He made his rounds in the garden seating area, collecting pets and ear-rubs from any willing patron. This time, he was well hidden with a new lover. Congratulations to him!

Here’s the famous beignet place. I can’t really tell the difference though. Fried dough is always good.

It is a wedding tradition here to march through the quarter with all your guests and a portable band known as a “second line” — I was lucky enough to see one

It was also fairly common for wrought-iron enclosed balconies in the quarter to be overrun with jungle plants

A few more from the quarter

Joan of Arc’s horse’s ass

Crest of (old) Orleans

Lazy river. I’m told it’s not fit for swimming though. Sadly.

They had these drains at the palace in Blois. But in New Orleans, vagabonds would paint them at night. The original was black like the rest of the pipe.

City Park has a creepy statue garden for children called Storyland, but I don’t know why they bothered. The rest of it already looks like something from a fairytale. “Meet me on the bridge. Don’t tell anyone.”

I have never known what these are for, so I call them wedding pavilions. Stand in the center, kiss the bride. Look into each other’s eyes and think about forever. In that moment, it shouldn’t seem like such a long time.

Maybe I’m right about them. After all, this one’s interior is Tiffany Blue

I went to see Lafayette Cemetery No. 1, and found a surprising number of Germans entombed there

This may have been a garden shed (I saw no names). But if not, forgive me for being rude

Not sure what the tree trunk was for. I think the red was firemen.

Even in death, this person had a space bubble

She seems like the sort of statue that would cry blood sometimes.

On the wrong side of St. Charles avenue, many houses are abandoned to moulder. Sometimes, it was haunting, beautiful. This is my dream house.

And this is farewell.

Don’t think I didn’t do many debaucherous things with many old and new friends. I did, oh I did. It’s only just that those things are about the feelings and can’t possibly be well captured at my skill level of photography. One day.

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