New Orleans Adventures

New Orleans was amazing. I was prepared to like it, I was not expecting to now count it among places that I would live. I spent three nights in this battered phoenix city; it is truly rising from the ashes (or river sludge, as it were).

We arrived to a very purple house

in the By-Water district wedged between the infamous Frenchman’s St and the 9th Ward where Hurricane Katrina took the largest toll.

Heather opened the door and let us into more than just her home. The house has the kind of community of roommates and friends that come and linger often. It is a very welcoming place to be.

And best of all Rob and I got to sleep in the recently built loft, looking out over the living room, with the tall Christmas tree still glowing, and the kitchen.

The house was a great refuge affording us a couple friendly nights of domicile. The first filled with conversation, shared food and The Avengers (classic TV show).

The second night filled with a game night beginning with Boggle and the Big Lebowski, continuing with “Nouns in a Bag” introduced to the fray by Rob and potentially ill-advised “White Russians” thanks to “the Dude”.

Rob and I went to a delicious breakfast at Surrey’s Juice Bar, I sat in the same seat Matthew McConaughey sat in when he ate there. Really, here’s the picture to prove it… you might need a magnifying glass.




Going for a drive through the Garden District to check out the architecture, I drove though an intersection, looked to my right and saw a couple walking. Of that couple I recognized the woman as Mikey Glasser, a girl I went to Tanglewood 4-H camp with for 8 years. There was no question in my mind that it was her. I stopped the car (thank god for light traffic), opened my door and yelled her name. Sure enough, she looked around. After much amazement at the coincidence of it all I invited Mikey and her boyfriend Steven over for game night.

Rob and I also met up with them the next day for a late afternoon coffee and what a brilliant chance to catch up it was. Learning what people do and how they relate to the world and the realm they live in is very engaging.

The action packed, last full day we were to spend in New Orleans was FULL indeed. Starting with breakfast of homemade huevos rancheros a’la Zach was amazing (Lizzy you’ll have to go a stretch to beat it, I bet you’re up to the challenge though, and I look forward to it).

Continuing with a drive through the Lower 9th Ward to survey the damage and reclamation that has taken place because of Katrina. On to the Art House, Tree House;

in Rob’s words it looks like a McDonald’s jungle gym and a junkyard got dropped on this lot and half of it got stuck in a tree. This was a mesh walkway between the two trees in the backyard. Scary and Exhilarating!

It was amazing! I climbed all over, holding my breath at times because most of the pieces were held there by knotted ropes and prayers. Did I mention that one of the slides is a water slide into a pool and another is hanging 10 feet over a tarp covered pile of cushions? Right, I didn't try those, it was a little cold that day.

Then checking into India House Hostel where we would spend the night (another hostel for Seren to ogle).

Next, on to the massive expanses of cemetery.

The rusty version of a masoleum.

Rob's full name is Robert Larzelere Stenger III. He was startled to find a crypt with his middle name on it and is convinced that he is related to the bones encased within.

Then coffee with Mikey and Steven in the dark. Such a storm blew up outside that the power went out for the hour we sat in the café. Then we sped over to the N. Robertson warehouse where the The Black Forest Fancies’ puppet rehearsal was due to be starting any moment.

We watched the 2 hour rehearsal as they manipulated their charges brilliantly and ironed out the kinks of working in a new space.

Then back to the Hostel to whip up some dinner

before a brief nap and out on the town to get a taste of the New Orleans nightlife/music scene which we had thus far missed. Took the trolley down to the French Quarter, meandered along Bourbon St. without stopping, just people watching was enough, walked the mile or so over to Frenchman’s St in search of good music and beer.

‘Good’ is a relative term, being rather sleepy and lack luster we didn’t feel like getting up the $10 cover to get into see the brass band we had been aiming for. Instead, we settled in a huge scarcely populated bar at the end of the strip with a ragamuffin brass band.

What they lacked in talent they made up for with enthusiasm. We tried a NOLA ale to wash down the tunes and both ended up to be pleasant though not earth shaking.

After the brass band we tried the blues club and a reggae club before calling it a night and trekking back to Canal St. to catch the trolley home.

Rolling into bed with Rob at 3am, I was very grateful to be there but I wouldn’t have traded that day of adventuring for anything.