Day Three

I am up at 6:30 that is in the AM!

Early morning breakfast at a favourite cafe, Envies on Decatur, fresh fruit, french toast and coffee. There is a light misty rain and a feeling of humidity on the rise. Yesterday’s wild thunderstorms and heavy rain has blown’ over. The newspaper had reports of flash-flooding throughout the area. Not that I would have known.

The first thing for me today is to get a SIM card for my cell. I know a place on Decatur that has ripped me off before but hey we are beats of habit. Just for something different, it is now pissing down again. April showers bugger off.

The young guy (Jay) at the phone shop tried for an hour to get the SIM to work. He finally called the Simple Mobile customer service area and was told that due to the heavy rain their systems has crashed. Jay informed me that the SIM card was set up to go and I should be on the network by mid-afternoon.

Decided to rest up and watch a Baseball game. Got a text message from Jay to say the phone should now be working, and it is. I sent a text message to all my New Orleans buddies to let them know the number. Johnny Sansone sent back a welcome and we will hook up at Chickie Wah Wah’s this Wednesday.

I am due to meet Gentilly Jnr. And Pat at 9 PM at Johnny Whites on St Philip St.

St. Philip was originally called Rue de Clermont (after Robert, Count of Clermont, who was the sixth son of Louis IX and the head of the Bourbon line). By 1750, it was called Rue St. Philippe, after the first name of the Duke of Orleans, who was regent of France when New Orleans was founded and after whom the city is named. Additionally, St. Philippe was a patron saint of the royal House of Orléans, although to be a saint in New Orleans (as well as a street) means to suffer its misspellings and mispronunciations. ST. PHILIP STREET is no exception, and it lost its original spelling over time. Like most streets in the French Quarter, at first it only ran six or seven blocks from the river to the “back of town,” but as the city grew, so did St. Philip. Today, it extends through Tremé and ends at Bayou St. John. PHILIP: St. Philip was originally called Rue de Clermont (after Robert, Count of Clermont, who was the sixth son of Louis IX and the head of the Bourbon line). By 1750, it was called Rue St. Philippe, after the first name of the Duke of Orleans, who was regent of France when New Orleans was founded and after whom the city is named. Additionally, St. Philippe was a patron saint of the royal House of Orléans, although to be a saint in New Orleans (as well as a street) means to suffer its misspellings and mispronunciations. ST. PHILIP STREET is no exception, and it lost its original spelling over time. Like most streets in the French Quarter, at first it only ran six or seven blocks from the river to the “back of town,” but as the city grew, so did St. Philip. Today, it extends through Tremé and ends at Bayou St. John. Asher, Sally. Hope & New Orleans: A History of Crescent City Street Names (Landmarks) . The History Press. Kindle Edition.

I decided to have an early dinner and went to Evangeline on Decatur. I had read some food reviews. I got in just before the end of happy hour (lucky hey) and got me a three dollar Abita Amber. I ordered a serve of Acadia Crawfish sauteed in garlic over a bowl of creamy grits and accompanied by the Holy Trinity (Bell Pepper, Celery and Onion). The Food Network TV show featured this dish a while back. It was good, real good. Just enough spice to warrant another beer and the grits where very tasty, I will try and cook some grits the same way back home. The last time I cooked grits it was like eating sand.

It is still only 7 PM and I have another two hours to kill. What better way to while away the hours than to sit down on the banks of the mighty Mississippi. The rain has cleared and the atmosphere is heavy. There is a trail of mist hanging over the river and it seems to move in a snake like fashion. One minute obscuring the Algiers ferry and then whiting out the Paddle Steamer, Natchez as it prepares for it’s nightly Jazz Dinner cruise. I can almost imagine Mark Twain strolling through the mist, pen in hand. Oh, what a sight this river must have been 200 yeas or so ago, The bustle on the wharves as dock workers unloaded bales off hundreds of boats tied up to the muddy banks. The noise, the smells, the colour would have been overwhelming. A time-traveller is what I want to be. With the mist hanging low it feels otherworldly. Tourists are easy to pick with their beads and expensive cameras. I have not seen the river put on a display like this before. I imagine it to be like an old London Fog without the bitter chill.

As the night closes in and the West Bank disappears I made my way to Old Absinthe House, off Pirate’s Lane. As Jim Morrison sang, ‘I got myself a beer.’ and sat outside watching one of the many ghost tours that make this spot a go to location. There was an almighty bang, and then another and people heads shot up like marmosets. It took a few seconds for us to realise that there was a fire-works display over the river. That’s the trouble I guess when carrying weapons is common place. Everyone can be a little gun-shy.

I got to Johnny Whites right on 9 PM. Evil Bob the barman was just setting up for his 6 hour shift. He welcomed me back like an old friend and made a place to sit at the end of the bar. Gentilly Jnr. And Pat arrived a few short minutes later. What a night we had. Just talking and laughing and catching up. Evil Bob is a very patient barman and he chats quietly to some very loud party girls. Bloody tourists, y’all only wear beads at Mardi Gras.

Evil Bob asked me if I wanted to share a shot with him. Pat sort of shook he head to indicate that may not be a good idea. Me, ‘why not’. I was told it was the most horrible tasting drink available. The name of this foul concoction – Jeppson’s Malort. When in Rome I guess. About an hour later I felt a little different and had to call it a night around 1 AM

I slept fitfully and was still tossing and turning at 5. Pat sent through a message to detail what exactly Jeppson’s Malort is:

‘The only flavor ingredient in Jeppson’s Malort is wormwood, a bitter herb known for its ability to kill stomach worms and other parasites. It’s also the main ingredient in Absinthe, a liqueur known for its mythical psychedelic effects’.