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So we do what everyone does in situ, we fiddled while rome burned. Sure we went out to get some supplies... I actually prepared fairly well... I wrapped everything I owned in ziplock baggies... I bought a decent amount of food and water and lots of baby wipes ad some instant hand sanitizer...etc

But we did go out to bourbon street fr the hurricane party. Apparently we missed it. preservation hall was closed... it was pretty sad really.



So we go looking for a hurricane glass, you know something plastic that everyone can sign as a momento... the only take out glsses that are available are the hand grenades... nobody has ay take out hurricanes... WTF?



We went to that pirate club..(I don't remember the name) it was suposed to have pretty good blues. Some fat guy, who had to take a breather after every song and would unabashedly solicit tips like he was a bad street performer. We had to buy a drink each every set... which I think was really only every 4 songs with a bunch of self agrandizement (kinda like a top 40 radio station no that I thnk on it) I bought the two British girls drinks and we stayed for a set and then left.



One of the other girls I was with really wanted to go into a particularilly nefarious gentlemans club. Apparently this club started out as a gay bar or a trannie bar... there had been some recent or reoccouring deaths purpetrated by strippers or some such... whatever. She can't get in without a gentleman to accompany her. It is after all a gentlemans club.



We get in and they try to seat us in the pervert row... There was no cover but there was a 1 drink minimum. It was pretty F'n expensive... 5 dollars for a budlight, 9 dollars for a real beer, and the prices just went up and up for anything worth swilling.

it is worth mentioning at this point one of the best things about New Orleans. You can drink outside and you can smoke inside. A girl (I think it was a girl) stops by and asks me for a light or a cigarette or something... I give it to her and she chats me up for a minute or so and then disappears. The waitress brings us our buds, we pay, and then I start looking arround the room... It's empty... The only people in the place is us and te strippers. I notice the stripper on stage is the girl i was talking to and she is just finishing up her set. She didn't even strip all the way down... left her g-string on... Now I don't know if that is normal in a US strip club... but it seams kinda prudish; I hadn't been paying enough attention to notice if the previos stripper had removed her g-strring, or if the girl that was dancing when we walked in had either. So te next girl goes on stage... and she doesn't even take off her bra... she's moving semienergetically arround the pole... not really poledancing just sort of undressing. The one after that didn't even undress att all.. she jsut sort of held on to the pole and swayed a bit, not even really trying to be liscivious... Nor did she take off any articals of clothing except maybe her jacket... whatever... If you can't even put on a show why should I give you cash? So we left.



We went looking for the girls we had abandoned to take a look arround inside that mistake of a club... and couldn't find them... we thought perhaps we would try to find a party on frenchman street, but that did't look promising and it was getting late... so we took the streetcar back home. The two british girls were already there all ready for bed... which made me feel better as I was worried for their safety (although they had not had anything to drink)



Anyway Lights out because in the next morning the exodus gets into full swing.

Please excuse my Grammar, style and puctuation until i can get all my thoughts out and then I will gloss it up... maybe change some stuff for continuity or for increased drama...LOL





Well, the anniversary of hurricane Katrina is soon apon us, and it is probably about time I posted something about my thoughts about the situation.

First off, lets just say that there were a lot of people affected by Katrina, a whole lot worse than me. I was merely a tourist that got stuck in New Orleans.



I took the Greyhound bus from Edmonton down to New Orleans to plan my Mardi Gras trip of 2006. I believe I arrived on Friday Morning and I walked around the French Quarter, basically observing the city wake up. I then went to the India House Youth Hostel and got a bunk. I went back to the French quarter and hit the tourist shops and the French Market. I purchased a bottle of Tequila and we started playing a drinking game at the youth hostel. Normally I do not Drink… but this is New Orleans and I think to myself… I will get drunk once… my first time… in New Orleans. Well, I have three words to recommend if you ever have the opportunity to participate in a 16 person “waterfall” (while everyone else is drinking that cow piss American beer and you are drinking Tequila on the rocks) AVOID AVOID AVOID. So a third of a 26 later (I think the American bottles are actually smaller than a 26) I decide that I am done… and I stagger to my bunk. Behold my bunkmate… It is a gothchick. A resident of New Orleans… that has yet to find a permanent flat. I talk to her for some time about a Dark Rave that is about to occur in New Orleans on the Tuesday… or something like that. After about an hour of talking to this chick. I really got no sense of time on this, I go back out to get my bottle of tequila (gotta protect the alcohol at an American youth hostel) and to stow it before going to bed. The kids all decide that they are going out on the town and that they found out that a lot of the locals hang out on Frenchman Street. In particular we had heard about the Spotted Cat. It was wild beyond words… the music was incredible… Jazz, and some of the customers were from a swing band or something from further up north in the states somewhere… and they were jamming/singing/ dancing… it was amazing. We Staggered home. We talked a taxi into driving us back… the taxi tried to convince us that the Streetcar didn’t run all night… so we all piled in and paid… (I will elucidate on this later I think) We all went to bed.



I woke up fairly early (especially considering that I went to bed sloshed only 4 or 5 hours earlier) and went to go find some cemeteries and other things that I had not seen on previous trips. I took my camera and took photos of The bayou St john houses. I worked my way up to the city park terminus of the canal streetcar. I took the streetcar back to the hostel. On my way into the hostel I see signs all over all the Youth hostel that say “Katrina is coming: buy food and water!” So I go to the front desk and ask who Katrina is. Now I am not stupid… I know that it must be a hurricane… but it is funny… I ask at the front desk… who’s Katrina… Katrina is a category 3 hurricane heading toward New Orleans… but don’t worry, they always turn away. I watch the news to find out more about Katrina. I decide to get the hell out of dodge. My bus ticket is valid any day up to 2 months away.

They wouldn’t let anybody into the bus station… I returned to tell the people at the youth hostel. The bus station is closed… don’t bother trying to go.