As the last days of our marathon road trip would soon end in Summer 2016, my wife and I decided to engage our traveling spirit in the always fun town of New Orleans. One hundred degree heat and periodic rain squalls would slow us down some, but not deter us from finding casual enjoyment in the renowned, French Quarter of the city.
In tourist friendly New Orleans, drinking alcohol with breakfast is a common sight. In fact, there are some unusual, morning drink combinations that might ordinarily shock the senses at any time of day. Finding a precious bar seat at the famed, Ruby Slipper, the bartender proceeded to demonstrate his ability to mix a favorite drink here: the bacon drenched Bloody Mary. Needless to say, I uneventfully opted for a more normal breakfast of grits and eggs to begin the day. Curiously eying a studious gentleman reading next to me, we engaged in an unexpected conversation about the impact of the Ottoman Empire in Europe. The conversation would soon turn into an opportunity to exchange heated views about Donald Trump’s impact on American politics.
No longer interested in “night owl” clubbing as health conscious baby boomers, we set off in early afternoon for a leisurely walk along the narrow streets of the famed Bourbon Street corridor. While curiously enjoying the party atmosphere of sexy burlesque theater, pulsating bar music and open alcohol consumption at this early hour there, I felt increasingly confined by the mob scene of tourists surrounding me. Ducking into the Famous Felix’s Cafe for a breather, we casually indulged in a favorite food choice of the area: Oysters Rockefeller.
Surviving the Bourbon Street gauntlet of hedonistic temptation, we now reached Krazy Corner. Quickly recognizing the Earthcam Video feed, broadcasting overhead at this intersection, I proceeded to wave and make funny faces at the inviting camera for all the world to see. How true it seemed, however, that the vicarious impression of a camera angle here could not truly portray the sensory euphoria of Bourbon Street madness that was inspiring my spur of the moment antics then.
Turning toward the tranquil, river bank shores of the Mississippi River now, we passed through the heart of the French Quarter, Jackson Square, to savor a famous French Beignet. I found time here to reminisce with my wife about memories of past visits to New Orleans in our youthful innocence as a twenty something newlyweds. We agreed that The “Big Easy”, as it is so aptly named, remains a unique place for us to indulge in spontaneous enjoyment at any age.