new orleans

Mark is in the bathroom right now, and I am taking advantage of our hotel's "wireless" Internet (I put wireless in quotes because they apparently don't understand that wireless means that you don't need network cables) to catch up a little. New Orleans has been fun, hot, and humid. Every time we leave the hotel for a even short walk we come back sopping wet. It's so gross.

We are staying in the French Quarter, which is probably the San Francisco equivalent of staying in Fisherman's Wharf - really touristy. San Franciscans are notorious about never venturing to places like Fisherman's Wharf, because it's where they "cordone off all the tourists", but I kind of like Fisherman's Wharf, and I like the French Quarter, mostly because underneath all the tacky knick-knacks and postcards and strip clubs and bars, are remnants of the historical past, in the architecture, in some of the preserved buildings, etc. In New Orleans, this is more true, where every street seems to be named after some general or other who once lived there or made an impact on the place.

I forgot to mention - my dad actually used to work in New Orleans. I don't know what he did here, but maybe it had something to do with the dried shrimp. My dad considered moving us to New Orleans, but my mom put her foot down and refused to move somewhere where there were no Chinese people. So for a while he worked here while we stayed in San Francisco, and he would come back every so often. This explains why I was terrified of him when I was a kid, because I hardly ever saw him.

They requested dried shrimp because my mom says "that's where it comes from." I had no idea. I bought them two half-pound bags of large ones.

In playing "spot-the-Asian", which I automatically do every time I travel, it turned out not to be too bad. There were actually a couple of cute guys, who I suspect were from the local college.

We decided not to rent a car, which turned out to be a wise of us, since nobody here seems to know what brakes are for. You heard of a California "rolling stop"? We got nothing on the New Orleans people, as they would just kind of roll into you, even if you were walking directly in front of them. The drivers would just kind of look off into the side, not on the side they were turning into, but the other way.

We ate really well. The saying that "you can't get bad food in New Orleans" is apparently true. Some places were better than others. I loved the fried chicken at Mother's, every gumbo I had except for the one at the Harrah's buffet, which was too salty, and there was catfish, oysters, steak, etc., etc. After a while it got to be too much and I ordered soup and salad for one of my dinners. Oh, and beignets, which are like fried Chinese donuts that you dip in powdered sugar. Fried bread and sugar is one of the greatest inventions ever.

I gotta pack. Be back later.