It was strange to be on foot all day yesterday rather than traveling by bike, but we had a lovely time wandering around the city.
We woke early and walked down to the Mississippi river and it was humid – tropical, even, by nine o’clock. Overheard the captain of the steamboat Natchez direct his crew through their drills (“we will now do the man overboard drill”), watched stone carvers put the finishing touches on a monument that is a tribute to immigration (donated by immigrants who arrived here under other presidencies), listened to some good music in the streets including at the National Parks Jazz monument where they had free jazz yoga underway with a ranger playing the piano, walked through the farmers market, and eventually took a break for beignets and cafe au lait at Cafe du Monde. The highlight was our stop at Faulkner House Books off of Jackson Square, located in a home where the writer William Faulkner lived for a time. The store is small (max capacity: twelve customers), but impressive, with a great collection of new and rare books. We walked in, looking a little sweaty and ragtag, and Dan asked if they had first editions of Faulkner’s books, and the woman (Joanne) working there said they were in the locked case, and Dan said that well, we were not likely to be buying any, and Joanne said “and I had such high hopes.” That was the start to a great conversation and she later put Dan in charge of the store while she stepped out and returned with a rare first edition of The Sound and the Fury valued at over $19,000. “The past is never dead, it is not even past” is a Faulkner quote that we cited many times as we made our way through Mississippi along the Natchez Trace, and the complex, tragic characters in his novels seemed very real and close by during our time there, so it was great fun to visit the books and rare letters at that lovely little shop.
The afternoon was spent in part by the hotel pool reading, and later I went off to find a salon for a pedicure while Dan took a nap (we are now doing vacation things!) We were delighted to discover prosecco and chocolate-covered strawberries in our room with a congratulatory card from the Gergen-Burkes, which was a very generous surprise, and later headed out for dinner at Herbsaint, which came highly recommended by friend Melissa B. Dan sent her a note telling her we had a reservation for last night, and she replied, “I have three words for you: Get The Gumbo.” And we did, and it was sublime, as was the rest of the meal.
As we sit out on our little patio with coffee this Sunday morning we catch the occasional sounds of the city drifting over us – music from a calliope, horns playing gospel hymns, and it is very peaceful. We are getting ready for more adventures in the city today, including the art museum and Preservation Hall. We are also sending our love and best wishes to Dan’s brother Tom as he sets off today with a group on a transcontinental bike trip…by comparison, our hills were considerably smaller than the mountains he will climb….looking forward to hearing about his adventures from the west to the east coast.
4 thoughts on “Day Twenty Eight: New Orleans walkabout”
What an inspiring trip! I’ve really enjoyed the blog…read every one. Thanks for sharing your adventure!
Have so much appreciated that your narratives are as much about musical, literary and culinary your lives as biking.
For a few years in the early 90’s, I performed on the General Jackson steamboat (really it had giant Diesel engines) that docked at Opryland and toured the Cumberland (which it still does). The fourth generation river boat captain’s name was Edgar Allen Poe and he would regale us with stories of taking the boat down to New Orleans for maintenance and repairs during the off seasons. I still remember the drills and safety meetings to which even the lowly musicians were required to attend. The river touches all of us in some way or another, often times fairly directly. Really enjoying my current “One degree of separation” from your journey, thanks to your wonderful blog! Remember when we were kids and had to read about such things in magazines or books, some number of weeks or months after the fact? I wonder if Captain Poe (who passed in 1993) would have become a blogger or been on Instagram or some such thing. I hope Dan’s brother will follow your example on his upcoming journey! Here’s to the storytellers! peace, pcb
I was about to suggest my favorite place for a real NOLA muffuletta – Evelyn’s place in Chartres in the French Qusrter. Looked it up online and discovered that this little gem is now closed. So… try Mother’s Kitchen.