Nerve Endings Firing Away

Right now, I am blogging from New Orleans, thanks to the wireless connectivity of Prince Conti Hotel. The drive from Atlanta was pretty decent. We packed my poor tired Toyota Tercel to the brim and still had to FedEx two big boxes containing utensils and linen; not to mention the numerous odds and ends that I have accumulated over the year (the ones I can’t bear to throw away). In spite of being confused over travel times, we made it to New Orleans in almost 8 hours. The timing was decent considering that we made two food stops, two gas stops and one stop for a ‘scenic view’. The scenic view turned out to be a damp squib because we couldn’t get close enough.

Mississippi and Louisiana literally stand on swamp grounds and large tracts of lands have been still conserved as such. We passed over two long bridges (definitely more than 5 miles long each) over such swamps that could easily be likened to Amazon rainforests from ground level. We made a brief halt at one rest stop to take pictures of the swamp but after Ash screamed and did a little jig upon seeing large black cricket-like creatures, we didn’t go any further.

We drove into New Orleans around 5pm (adjusted for Central time zone unlike last time we drove west) after outrunning some crazy thunderstorms. After checking in, we had a quick shower and decided to explore the town before the thunderstorms caught up. These thunderstorms are simply crazy; they pop out of nowhere and pour almost gazillion gallons of rainwater in no time. It almost made me go through the experience of the downpour that Mumbai faced few days back.

New Orleans has its own brand of architecture influenced by Spanish and Creole (French Colonial) styles. Long running grill railings dominate the front façade of building from which people stand and ogle the passing public below. Although the two-week party Mardi Gras is not yet in town, Bourbon Street is still rife with raunchy entertainment and Cajun-Creole cuisine joints. After roaming around the narrow bylanes of the French Quarter, we gorged ourselves with Creole shrimp and blackened catfish (not so blackened as it sounds). Loud but vibrant colors dominate the street shops filled with jazz figurines and Mardi Gras feather masks. I can only imagine the sultry excitement boosted by gallons of beer on Bourbon Street during THAT carnival of exhibitionism that single-handedly supports the bead industry.

Enough travelogue talk tonight; I think I’ll crash now. I should be in Houston tomorrow evening as we don’t plan on leaving early in the morning.