New Orleans

 Trying to clear out paperwork, I came across a packet from my vacation in New Orleans, which may not have been my very first vacation, but is probably destined to be my last. Thanks to our British friend and itinerary planner, I think we went to every possible tourist site, and even some venues that were not part of the typical tourist route. Pat was a remarkable person. It seems she had contacts all over this country. She was so outgoing and friendly everyone wanted to accommodate her and her friends whenever they could, even strangers we met. She also organized our trip so that we did something every minute of the day, starting out from our base at Hotel Monteleone on Bourbon Street, right in the heart of the French Quarter. We were in our 20's so that did not pose any difficulty, except perhaps when she was leading us on a walking trip around Lake Pontchartrain: after several miles, Liz and I said we wanted to turn back. It is a very big lake.

   We didn't eat at every famed restaurant, but we did our best. At The Court of Two Sisters, I ordered a game hen or such that came shooting flames and accompanied by a standing ovation from the wait staff. And there was Antoine's and then Brennan's for breakfast, and the Caribbean Room, Paddy O'Brien's and as many more as we could fit in. 

  We rode the famed streetcar route, even visiting the Streetcar Named Desire, which was not in service any more, but set up as an attraction. 

   We cruised the Mississippi on the Mark Twain, where, oddly enough, Liz ran into the neighbors of her Mom's in Greenwich.  We went to Dixieland Hall and Preservation Hall and witnessed a street funeral procession with jazz band accompaniment. I think The Checkmates performed at one of the clubs. We visited the Cathedral of St. Louis; it was Lenten season.  

   One day we took the bus to Baton Rouge, and visited the Capitol Building, which struck me as rather deserted. And we visited a plantation or two. (Pardon the word.)  Pat's contact in The States connected her with some theater performers, and they met us in our hotel and took us to Cabaret Theatre's performance of "Nobody Likes A Smart Ass." So much fun---I googled a few years ago and it's still running somewhere. Then we all went to a Playboy Club--even  more fun. We got to go upstairs to the private rooms because of their artistic status. We had a great time, all 3 of us. We probably assumed that was just the start of such times, and maybe for the others it was, but the trip will forever stand out for me.

  The only glitches:  We  arrived at The Monteleone where  we  had reservations, but were told at the desk that the hotel was full. It was late at night and we felt lost. Our cab driver must have feared for our safety; we must have seemed like babes in the woods. It was just past Mardi Gras and the streets were still full of empty glasses. Bar customers could carry their liquor containers outside with them. Enroute from the airport to our hotel, our cab driver had driven us through the back alleys where he showed us drunks slumped over against the walls or lying flat in the street. He told us to be careful.  He helped carry our bags into the hotel and when  we told him our reservations were not held, he went to the desk and told them to find us a room. And it worked. He said hotels always have extra rooms in store.

    On our way back to NYC, we somehow messed up the time zones, in the opposite direction. We had thought we might stay overnight, but instead, according to our time settings it was near morning so we decided to drive home, to Cambridge. It was dark; and starting to snow, and the road was curiously free of traffic, but Pat drove us in her aged and borrowed old antique vehicle, and we made it to her house in Cambridge. Liz drove to Greenwich and I to Valley Falls. It turned out we had set our watches the wrong way, and we had driven in the middle of the night.