If someone asks you about your shoes...

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walk away quickly!
We had to pass Bourbon Street on our way back to the hotel. This street holds what New Orleans is made of, the old jazz and blues clubs but also what ruins the city and just leaves the impression it's but a shadow of its former self. Bourbon Street is about booze and party. Everywhere you can get your cocktail to go! Now we knew, why the city is so peaceful in the morning. All the tourists lay half the day in bed. This also explains the fine smell of vomit that jumps at you walking the pavements. We sadly couldn't find a place, that really felt like that old, non touristy New Orleans jazz n blues place. But we kept on getting questions about our shoes. “I can tell you exactly where you gottem sir!” this young dodgy bloke came up to us. Not trusting the situation we pretended not to understand much. Still it ended him wanting to polish our shoes, for cash of course! And when we sent him away, we got the feeling it would be better not to step into the next dark alleyway.

Our second day in N'awlins
We wanted to discover the American part of the city too. So we walked up Cable Street, actually a beautiful palm tree lined and shiny street with the old cable cars driving up and down. We also wanted to visit the Louis No.1 cemetery. But we ended up hurrying up the street and quickly taking the cable car back. Maybe it was the day or time of day but although we've often taken the no tourist route and don't mind things being authentic, we can't recommend leaving the French Quarter by foot without a group. Not only were we asked about our shoes again, this time by a guy who looked like he'd been in too many fights, blind on one eye and scarred. Simply everyone came up to us wanting to talk about this and that but sadly with an obvious goal. Without wanting to exaggerate these goals lay somewhere between begging and looting.
Breakfast at something Corner was bad, like food and water are here. Dinner was worse! We went to Franks to eat original po-boys, a sandwich like a sub that was originally named poor boy in the great depression. We both felt sick after this and I have stomach like steel that has taken Tunisian omelets and Blackpool food easily! But we could sit outside on the not very safe balcony in the sun, it had gotten even warmer and we were able to sunbathe in t-shirts.
At 8pm it was time for the Ghost Tour. Yes I know, how much more touristy can you get? Terrible isn't it? So we thought, well we'll just go along and have our fun. But it turned out this was one of the better experiences in New Orleans. Our group consisted of only six other people. Our guide, Matt, a very jolly but surprisingly well-knowledged local. Turns out, he's a student of history and knows is home town well. We met in a grubby pub named Finnegan's and set off to hear of ghostly tales in the French Quarter. Of course you got a hurricane for the price of two for one with the tour. Plus there was a bar break in between. So we were quite a funny group staggering through the dark streets. We learned a lot about the perfectly normal history of a town like New Orleans, with all the criminals, hookers, catastrophes and other dirty stories. The Americans seemed a little more impressed by these, where we could just nod thinking how many times have we heard the same story else where? You can feel the difference between Europe and the US in history and other things now and then quite strongly. We also learned more about the famous Voodoo queen Marie Leveau. She was said to have stayed young, always looking like she was in her mid twenties. To be able to influence people and know things she couldn't possibly know etc. Well the historic background is that she had many husbands and many daughters at a very young age. When she was too old to pass for thirty, she sent her daughters to do her business, pretending to be Marie Leveau and later her daughters daughters. She knew more than she should have been able to because she owned a hair saloon, where many maitresse and slaves would go. She got the whole insider gossip of the town and she knew how to use it. She blackmailed many men in town on account of their affairs with other women. These of course weren't going to admit that they'd been tricked so easily by this women once they found out one day that she had died at the age of 91 years. So of course she had used Voodoo. Then there was the famous haunted house with the gruesome tale of a doctor and his wife who experimented on their slaves, won their medical knowledge from these and killed and tortured many people. After a long walk and it being late we decided to go to a jazz bar next day.

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