Mum was on the job.
There was a lot of giggling like there were a whole bunch of children but I didn’t see any others. Shrugging my shoulders I went to my room and made my obligatory call home.
I was on my own for the day. The movie opening would be tomorrow, so I had the day free to sightsee. I decided to see what Bourbon Street was like early in the morning.
It was hot, sweaty, and stank like I couldn’t believe. The restaurant garbage had been set out when they closed the night before. It had already started to decay. It was so bad I took my exercise elsewhere.
I ran for miles admiring the architecture of the old city. I was able to go through two major cemeteries, St. Louis and Metairie.
St. Louis was almost fun, as I came in a side gate a parade was coming through the main gate. It was a funeral procession New Orleans style. The marchers were flamboyant in both costumes and music. A funeral hearse followed then a flower coach which was filled to overflowing. Then there was the limo with the close family. After that, there must have been over a hundred cars. I don’t know who died but they certainly had a large following.
Metairie was interesting. Apparently, the rich people were buried there, at least from the size and complexity of the tombs. Since much of New Orleans is below sea level people aren’t buried in the ground. The bodies are placed in above-ground crypts.
These were pretty fancy. I saw one that reminded me of an old castle ruin I had seen in Ireland on a weekend flying trip. Another was a pyramid with a sphinx guarding it.
A little boy was sitting on the sphinx as though he was riding a pony. I thought the gate was closed on the pyramid, but a lady came out of it and scooped him up.
“I told you not to play out here in the daytime!”
I was running past the tomb when I heard this and turned to see what was going on, but they were gone when I looked. Oh well, it was a graveyard after-all; one could expect strange occurrences. Not really, but fun to think of though.
After my morning run, I returned to the hotel. The grandfather clock had been repaired or at least the old guy was not there. No one was singing in the lobby but you wouldn’t expect it early in the day.
Kids came running down the hallway on the fourteenth floor right after I closed the door. They were a noisy bunch but seemed to be having a good time.
After cleaning up I had breakfast at Le Café, a coffee shop inside the hotel. I had learned that one had to be careful calling a restaurant a coffee shop as it had several different connotations in New Orleans, like several places I had been to in Europe.
I don’t mean I had been to them to use them, just had it explained as to what they were in Amsterdam.
I then joined a walking tour of the old town. It was ten in the morning and Bourbon Street was already in full swing. Our tour guide had us peek into several different strip joints. I was afraid I might get a disease just from looking in the doorway. Those places were dirty.
At each place, there were bouncers or strippers trying to get us to come in. One very attractive lady was very insistent with me, I almost went in with her when I realized, She was a He. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. That was the end of Bourbon Street for me.
Well except for some college kid puking on my shoes. I returned to the hotel and changed shoes, setting the nasty ones out in the hallway so they would be picked up and cleaned. How was I to know that it was only a leftover tradition at high-class European hotels? Someone did pick up my shoes, but I never saw them again.
From there I went on my own tour. I went into the P.G.T. Beauregard-Keys House. I had read about him in American history. I think the Civil War might have ended differently if he had gotten along with Jeff Davis.
I’m not sure about his stances on Negros. I think he wanted them as a voting bloc rather than any true beliefs. I did admire him as an inventor.
I went into Jean Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop, but of course, I was too young to drink. Not that I would have.
From there I caught a streetcar named, Museum, which took me to the Botanical Gardens. I’m not really a big fan of those but did read a sign about the dueling fields so I went there. It was disappointing as they were now tennis courts.
They did have plaques about famous duels. The one I loved best was when a very peaceful man was challenged to a duel for his remarks about a political stance.
The man, James Humble a blacksmith by trade was almost seven feet tall. He was challenged by Bernard Marigny who was a master swordsman and a crack shot with a pistol.
Mr. Humble knew nothing of dueling but knew he could not turn it down. But since he had the choice of locations and weapons he chose Lake Pontchartrain in six-feet of water with sledgehammers. Mr. Marigny could have stood on a box but decided that a blacksmith with a sledgehammer was too formidable for him.
Mr. Marigny wisely chose to apologize and they ended up becoming friends.
I later took a sidewheel boat ride on the Mississippi. It was definitely a tourist type of ride. I found the huge engine and the piston rods to be impressive. I spent
