Day Three – April 11th.
This is crazy, here I am up at 7 AM to meet up with Paul Murphy. I ain’t ever been up this early whilst staying in New Orleans. I stuck my head outside to see if there is anyone about. I am pretty sure that the only people I see are those COMING home from a big night out.
You will not believe this. Paul just called me at 8 AM, his bus was diverted to Mobile, Alabama and so he will not make our breakfast date. He was in a bit of a panic as he has been told that Greyhound Bus Services will not be able to get him to New Orleans in time for his Amtrak train connection. He said that they were very understanding and have promised that they will be able to get him to Jackson where he will hook up with his train.
So, what am I to do so early in the morning, being a little tired and emotional still from last night. I headed down to my favourite breakfast place (Envies) for a croissant and a coffee. The Times-Picayune had a little article on a new craft beer being released here in Louisiana. The Hemperor IPA made with hops and hemp. Now that is a craft beer I may take up. It solves the age-old problem of getting too drunk to roll a joint.
Back at the apartment by 9:30 and I promptly had a little (morning) Nanna nap.
Noon arrives as I open the front door. William, my landlord is back from Costa Rica and Scott my neighbour is with him. Scott and his wife Cherie are here at the same time every year and we have become good friends. They are off for a cocktail and have invited me along.
I managed to get myself to Lafayette Square for some free Wednesday music (5 PM to 8 PM). I purchased some tickets for both food and beer. Found a place to lean and then spotted a guy next to me with a baseball cap with the name Ray Wylie. I said, ‘Is that the Ray Wylie Hubbard’? He seemed very surprised that a guy with such a funny accent knew who Ray Wylie Hubbard was. I told him I was a big fan. He is from Virginia and is with his wife and a buddy. Real nice people and we spent the whole time chatting and buying each other a beer. He is a cattle rancher and both of us have to repeat ourselves to understand each other. I rattle off a couple of American artists in the same vein as Ray Wylie and he was stunned a little. Anyway, his wife has given me her phone number as they want to meet up with me and Wendy next week for breakfast.
Guess what? I got home at midnight again. At this rate, I will not make the weekend.