After classes on how to use Adobe Elements for video editing ended (at 2:00PM), Estine, Frank and I went off to have the New Orleans' favorite "The Hurricane" invented by someone at Pat O'Brien's Restaurant and Bar.
At 5:00PM a private cocktail reception was held in our honor, hosted by the Pearson Foundation. The booked the hotel bar for the 24 of us. And the thinking was we had to drink up at the hotel so we could be ready to drink at dinner. I like the way these people thing.
Then, with Nokia phones in hand, we went off to capture images and video for our movie project (ours was a dream that began on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland and ended up morphing into a dreamscape visit to New Orleans).
And like Vegas, one can drink while walking the streets of New Orleans, with one caveat: no glassware, only plastic. It's called "French Quarter Crystal" by the natives.
Two of my travel companions: Amy and Estine
As the plaque says, a fire in one of the oldest Gay Bars in the USA began a local LGBT movement in New Orleans when 32 victims were claimed by the fire because nobody cared enough to call the fire department or offer aid.
Our tour guide Al reminds us that the French Quarter wasn't always French; Spain owned the Louisiana Territory for a number of years.
The Carousel Bar at ... some hotel ... the name eludes me now in my sobriety ... but the stools and counter rotate a full circle every 15 minutes, the bar's interior and bottle stay put. It's like a merry-go-round while you drink. Al told us that in his younger days, it was a dream come true: a man could sit in the corner and watch all the women rotate by until he sees one he likes.
A very famous restaurant and bar in New Orleans, The Court of Two Sisters. Now the place where I had my first Sazerac.
Most of the ladies on our tour took turns rubbing and grinding on the Charm Gate to make them more charming. I think the image of them bumping and grinding was enough for most of the guys in the vicinity.
Toasting with our first Sazeracs.
Al shows us the (rented) house of Tennessee Williams at the time when he wrote "A Streetcar Named Desire".
French Quarter architecture. You can see more at the page devoted just to architecture.
The cathedral in the center of town is a place of much merriment, music and.... what's another "m" word? Damn.
Now THIS is what I think of when I think of New Orleans.
And now I have a reason for drinking ... as if I needed an excuse.
The United States offered refuge to Napoleon after his defeat by the English. I had no idea. But it didn't matter, he refused, and was sent to Elba.
An attempt to catch a very hot jogger with the Nokia - I didn't know how to aim without being seen staring, so he ended up blurry and headless.
It's like Vegas, but sluttier.
Dinner on the first working night was at the Bourbon House restaurant. I had some great gumbo and what I believe is my first raw oyster. The red fish was delicious and the bread pudding... oh my gods the bread pudding...
Not gonna have many more of these in my life, I can tell you that.
Our administrator thanking our hosts.
More "speechifying" by everyone.
After dinner, it was back on the streets for more drinks on our hosts. They kept an open tab all night long for us. It was crazy.
The flaming fountain at Pat O'Brien's.
Piano bar goodness.
I don't know who she is, but she rocked the house in the dueling piano's competition at Pat O'Brien's.
$5 for a 36 ounce Guinness... my kind of Huge Ass Beer!
I toast with the cute guy from Chicago, Charlie.
At Harrah's Casino in New Orleans.
Down to playing the penny slot machines....
