Sunday morning called for an earlier than usual wake-up to deal with packing all of my things, which were scattered all around the apartment. It never takes me as long as expected to pack up things when LEAVING a destination, which is a good thing. I took a few pictures of the apartment for reference, once my things were out of the way. Aside from the 3 flights of stairs, I wouldn’t hesitate to stay there again. The location was perfect, the kitchen was great and the sofa bed was comfortable. Next time, I’ll try to pack a little lighter, though, so as not to give myself a heart attack getting my suitcase upstairs.
Once everything was relatively in order, my first stop was David’s Antiques. Although they’d been closed on Saturday, they opened bright and early at 8:00 a.m. on Sunday. I’d planned to look at more of the loose cameos. Besides the cameos, this time I made a point to look at some other silver jewelry, beings it was 50% off. Cuff links are another of my collectibles and I managed to find a nice pair of silver and jade ones. The saleswoman put those aside with a pair of silver and cameo earrings. I was getting out my wallet to pay when my eyes spied a case of antique Afghan silver jewelry. It contained a stunning silver and peridot necklace that looked even more stunning on ME than in the case! Naturally, that was one of the few cases of silver jewelry that was NOT on sale because it was Afghan jewelry. She knew how badly I wanted it, though, so worked with me to give me a slight discount. Even with the discount, it cost more than the cuff links and earrings combined, so those had to go back in their respective places. They suggested that I take a picture of the silver and cameo earrings because, if I decide that I want them in the near future, I can always send them the photo to inquire if they still have them. They assured me that anything can be shipped to me.
After my shopping adventure, I made my way to The Grill. There was a huge line on Sunday morning. For a moment, I thought about going somewhere else, but didn’t want to lose my place in line, in case another place was similarly packed. The wait may have been 15 to 20 minutes. My palate was not craving the usual breakfast food, but yearned for a chicken salad sandwich on toasted wheat bread, along with a Coke. As the waiter brought my order, I noticed that his name tag said “Ricky.” “Are YOU Pretty Ricky?” I asked. “Yes! Who have you been talking to?” he smiled. “John. He told me that you’d be taking care of me today.” Pretty Ricky was even friendlier after that. All the guys in there are super nice, though. Pretty Ricky asked where I was from, then announced to everyone, as well as pointing out, which patrons were from San Francisco. There were a fair amount of us! The guy on my right was with a group of guys in town for Southern Decadence, of course. He was actually from Dallas and said that this was his first time to The Big Easy. Although he’d loved the experience, he confessed that he’d probably never return. “Why? If you like it so much?” I asked. He said that the 8 block stretch of Bourbon Street, crammed with men and alcohol at every turn, was too much (i.e. too tempting); he couldn’t be doing that all the time. I told him that he just needs to come back when it’s NOT Southern Decadence, get off of Bourbon Street and see what else New Orleans has to offer. He hadn’t thought about that yet, but said that it was probably a good idea to come back to New Orleans during a NORMAL time, then go on some plantation and swamp tours and such.
My last bit of business for the morning was to make another stop at Central Grocery to get half a muffelatta for the long journey back to San Francisco. I’d been happy to discover that they were open on a Sunday, as they never used to be.
I took my time getting my luggage downstairs, dragging that suitcase down at least 45 minutes before the shuttle was to arrive. Once all 3 pieces were down in the courtyard, I sat in the apartment awhile cooling myself off with the air conditioning. When I turned the air conditioning off and locked everything up, I sat in the courtyard drinking some San Pellegrino until it was time to roll my luggage half a block away in front of the Ste. Helene Hotel, where the shuttle would be picking me up.
Originally, my return flight was a direct flight scheduled for 7:30 p.m. Sometime within the last month or two, United Airlines had changed it to a 2:30 p.m. flight with a connection through Houston. They hadn’t even called me or sent me an E-mail in regards to the change. When I called them to complain a week before my departure, the United Airlines representative had been sympathetic. There were no more direct flights out late in the day/evening. The latest she could put me on was at 4:30 p.m., but with short connections in both Houston and Los Angeles. I didn’t care because I wanted as much time in New Orleans as possible. Since I was fine with the 4:30 p.m. flight and two connections, she was kind enough to upgrade me to roomier seats in the front of the plane for free. It DID make a difference. Let me tell you, that half a muffelatta really came in handy, too! There were no little doggies on any of my return flights, but there WERE two children sitting next to me on my L.A. to San Francisco flight. All of my close friends know that children (of any age) give me the heebie jeebies. I put my headphones on and tried to sleep, but the seemingly 8-year old girl fell asleep with her head half on my shoulder. I nearly screamed, but managed to maintain until the landing in San Francisco.
There you have it – drinking, eating, shopping, taking pictures, zydeco, brass bands and Southern Decadence. I even have a couple of new Facebook friends to show for it.
If you REALLY know me, you won’t be surprised to know that my next trip to New Orleans is already booked. I was saving my United air miles for another flight to Hawaii. However, some of them would expire more than likely before I had the chance to acquire enough for Hawaii. Therefore, I went ahead and booked another 4-day trip to New Orleans for next March, the weekend before St. Patrick’s Day. I have long wanted to photograph the Mardi Gras Indians. They normally are out in force 3 times per year – Mardi Gras (of course!), Super Sunday (the Sunday closest to St. Joseph’s Day) and on St. Joseph’s Night. Super Sunday next year is March 15th. St. Patrick’s Day parades will begin on March 13th, with an Irish-Italian St. Joseph’s Day parade on March 14th. My flight back to San Francisco will be the evening of March 17th, so, unless anything gets rained out, that will give me the chance to see plenty of revelry, drink green beer, eat corned beef and cabbage, AND photograph the Mardi Gras Indians! Although I’ll miss the actual St. Joseph’s Night, the rest should make up for it!
In the Quarter
Counter at Central Grocery
In the Quarter
Me in my Steampunk Top Hat