While packing for my New Orleans trip last week, I realized my visits there link all the different chunks of my life like almost nothing else.
After my first trip as a kid, when I got older I spent many nights with high school and college friends on Bourbon Street, ignoring all the best parts of the city. Bourbon Street is the least interesting part of the Quarter, really, but it’s kind of a rite of passage in this area.
After college I moved to south Florida with a two month-old AG, so now that I live on the Gulf Coast again this trip with children of my own marks my first visit since Katrina. When I’m Granny Asthma Mom I think I’ll have to bring my grandkids, too, just to close the circle.
The continuity means something to me. I don’t have much of that in my life as a military kid with two such culturally different parents (West Pennsylvania and Puerto Rico), married to another military kid with his own set of culturally distinct parents (Korean and half-Eskimo). No home state, no strong regional ties.
Except those trips to New Orleans, tying together all the loose ends of my childhood, teenager/early adulthood, and parenthood.
Because the French Quarter—the Vieux Carre—really is everything you’ve read.
– It’s a chunk of French Acadia culture on the edge of a Louisiana swamp in the Deep South.
– A huge draw for Mardi Gras tourists even though the holiday started in Mobile, AL, not New Orleans.
– A collection of streets and corners bursting with zydeco music and Cajun and Creole food.
– Home to 1700’s Spanish-style architecture (thanks to early fires, a brief Spanish occupation, and rebuilding) and ironwork.
I could go on and on and on, but I’ll let the pictures speak for me again.
Sunrise over the Mississippi. There are better pictures of the river, but this one shows its location in relation to the city. Taken from the hotel window on Canal St. looking east (obviously).
Here’s another advantage of traveling with kids. Not only do you “get” to wake up in time for the sunrise, but you also avoid lines at the Cafe Du Monde. The only way to avoid the crowds at breakfast is to get here this early. (It’s open 24 hours.) Pull a couple of chairs down out here in the courtyard, and you can watch the artists set up their paintings along the railings in adjacent Jackson Square.
The coffee stand has been around since 1862, and here’s why. Beignets, square French-style doughnuts heaped with powdered sugar. They serve no other food, so you forgo menus and simply tell the server how many orders you want and how many cups of cafe au lait or hot chocolate you need. That’s it.
It’s a landmark and a tourist attraction, but somehow avoids the tackiness of both. Really, much of the Quarter is like that. Cafe Du Monde never changes. It’s the same now as when I was a kid, and probably will remain so when I’m old and no longer remember my own name.
Jackson Square is right next to the coffee stand, featuring this statue of—who else?—Andrew Jackson in the middle.
That’s St. Louis Cathedral in the background, but first—a close-up of the statue.
This is Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral from Decatur Street. See the tree in the middle? Behind it stands the statue.
Okay, I’ll go ahead and post a close-up of the cathedral, too. How often do you run across a cathedral in real life, anyway? I’m not including any photos of the interior because, like so many other places in New Orleans, the church is not just a tourist attraction. In fact, even if you visit during Sunday Mass, you can still go inside as long as you remain quiet and respectful.
Here’s AG’s sister inside Jackson Square. You know, being cool. According to the kindergarten definition.
Ironwork typical of the Quarter.
You can take streetcars around the city, but if you go by foot you soak in so much more.
Because as you walk the streets, you turn a corner and look: a jazz combo. New Orleans is a city completely steeped in its food and music unlike any other place I’ve been. Royal Street musicians:
Hotels like like this one dot the Quarter, too:
Finally, we had to head home, and that brings me to a final photograph.
I think flying into New Orleans would make it easy to think the city’s been completely rebuilt since Katrina. Flooding spared most of the French Quarter, and any damage has been repaired. But driving just a few miles away tells a different story. The poorer sections of New Orleans like the Ninth Ward, the ones people don’t visit, still contain half-demolished houses, huge piles of debris, and buildings and homes with blue tarps over damaged roofs.
My drive there passes through southeast Louisiana—where Katrina made landfall—and runs the length of the Mississippi Gulf Coast. While New Orleans experienced the massive flooding, the core of Katrina’s wind destruction occurred here, since hurricanes have the most power in their southeast quadrants.
I took this picture from the car as we traveled on the eastbound I-10 Twin Span. As you can see, the city is building a new bridge over Lake Pontchartrain. Why? Because the one we’re riding along has been repaired, after Katrina’s monster winds pushed the lake into a storm surge that lifted parts of the bridge off their piers.
My point?
Plenty of Katrina victims still need help. To read more, check these out:
Sustainable, low-income housing for the Ninth Ward
Brad Pitt’s Make it Right Foundation
Habitat for Humanity in New Orleans
Thank you for the tour. Some of it looks like I thought it would.
I know what you mean about the common thread… the grounding.
When I was little we left Alaska every other year to visit my Grandparents in Oregon. Each time, we stayed at the beach cabin on the coast. I had my honeymoon there. My kids slept in my Dad’s old bedroom. It’s gone now, as is my family’s land in Alaska. It leaves you feeling adrift somewhat, with no anchor to any place in particular, only the people in your life.
Thanks Amy!
I love the scenery along the gulf coast. Ive taken that same drive many times when I lived in southeast Florida.
Was humidity a problem for AG?
Good to see you back, Steve. She’s okay with humidity unless she’s running really hard—but then, she’s lived in this area and south FL all her life, so she’s also used to it.
She does tend to flare with the temp. and/or pressure changes, though.
Awesome pics. Amy! Thanks for sharing
. Makes me want to plan a trip there with the family……..
And I think I remeber the Cafe Du Monde from our one day trip 14 yrs. ago!
Oh yeah, I remember that drive. It has been 9 years since my last trip to New Orleans, Amy. The husband is there quite often for work and makes me very jealous when he calls me while a steaming plate of shrimp or crawfish sits in front of him.
I can imagine the son’s lungs wouldn’t like it very much, however. Mold is his #1 trigger and humidity makes him (and me) cranky.
Blessedmom,
You should plan a trip…..I’ll meet you at the zoo.
Hey Michelle,
It was overcast and pretty cool last weekend, so the humidity was much lower than usual. I. I wanted the kids to see the city before we move away from the area, but it backfired on me—now AG’s asking if we can back to the zoo one last time, and you know what means. A summer visit. Talk about high humidity! I’ve given her the ever-popular “maybe.”