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Today was the beginning of the Mardi Gras build up and the parades would be getting into full flow later in the day. Me and Gareth decided therefore that we wanted at least one set of fancy beads each that we would keep for the rest of the week rather than throwing at women to show us their breasts. But before we could head for town breakfast was needed and so we followed one of Jack's suggestions and headed to the most famous pancake house in New Orleans which was just around the corner from the hostel, Betty's. Well I continued my healthy living by ordering French toast covered in sugar and syrup as well as sausages wrapped in pancakes with syrup on. Gareth, Jack and Chris just looked on bemused and laughed. When it came to settling the bill the famed American obsession with the British royal family came to the fore for the first time. I went up to the counter and the crazy old women taking the money asked, "Have you ever met the Queen Mom?", "Well no not recently", clearly she had no idea that she had died some years ago. This was confirmed as when I was leaving she said, "If you see her say hi from me." I just thought to myself, "That's pretty unlikely as she is knocking on wood."
Anyway Gareth and I trawled the shops of the French Quarter for some beads that would make a serious impression before I came across red, white and blue beads with little union jack's interspersed all the way around. Perfect! This was also the time I think when I added another word completely out of the ether, to go with 'Poontang', which I thought was classically American…'capiche!' (like the New York-Italian gangsters). Don't ask me why I thought of this or how it started but it did and would feature prominently in the coming days. Many of us from the hostel were planning to head to the evening parade so I decided to fill my time by having a much needed haircut and so had spotted a somewhat run down barber's which I thought would be cheap. Well when I entered it was what I always imagined New Orleans to be, two old black guys just sat there chatting about anything and everything, generally moaning. Whilst having the cut I managed to ramble/bulls*** on enough about the upcoming mayoral elections to get by. The scene was like something lifted straight out of the Cosby's, restored my faith in human nature.
Down at the parade (British beads draped round my neck, and ready to catch many others from the floats) a hippy women passed by offering to do Saints tattoos, and Gareth decided to get into the spirit by getting a fleur de lis on his cheek. Well it was that bad that I'm not sure she had ever seen a fleur de lis before but he was stuck with it for the night, how we laughed. The parade was great and we all headed down to Bourbon St to get the night truly started. Well most people had arrived in town for the Superbowl and so it was chaos on the streets, so busy! Predictably I lost most of the group and Chris was the only one who was in tow. I was heading to One Eyed Jack's club to see an acclaimed group called the New Orleans Bingo Show as I had been told it was a unique experience not to be missed (and it said it on the board in the hostel so it must be true). Indeed they are described on Wikipedia as an interactive theatrical cabaret (interesting no?). It took me a while to convince Chris to join me as it was $20 to get in but eventually under alcoholic duress he caved in.
Well we were about an hour early and we started knocking back the Wild Turkey. Meanwhile I had noticed a pretty looking brunette sat ona sofa with seemingly her friend and her boyfriend. The look on her face wasn't promising though, shouldn't have been surprised looking back as I did have my silly Superman t-shirt on and the daft/cool (or so I thought) British beads. Well after the whisky kicked in and Chris was seriously flagging I decided to just sit down next to her and give it my best shot. Sure enough we started chatting, her name was Monica, and got on well. I didn't really take in too much of the band but even from the little I can remember it was pretty crazy stuff yet very impressive and kind of enjoyable. The next thing I know I'm in a taxi in a drunken haze on my way to a part of town that I have no idea where it is.
The next morning I opened my eyes to the bright sunshine streaming through the windows and instantly thought "Where the hell am I?!" Monica then asked if I fancied going for a champagne breakfast to start the Superbowl weekend off in style? As surreal as the request was I couldn't possibly turn it down, what a way to start the weekend! So off we headed with her friend and boyfriend from last night and her friend Ben who had flown in from Chicago. I was still in my daft attire from the night before, beads and all and hadn't showered, when we walked into a packed local café. Whereby all the people sat there, many in the black and gold colours of the Saints, cheered and applauded when I walked in and they saw the mini Union Jack's. Well I was sat at the table, with four people I didn't really know, in a part of New Orleans I didn't know or how far it was from the hostel…surreal and random yes and yet it was properly exciting and they were all nice, fun people, I love travelling! Physically I wasn't holding up too well either as I had a glass of champagne, glass of orange juice, cup of coffee and a glass of water and was drinking them in rotation, I could hear my body saying, "What the hell are you doing to me!?" Breakfast/lunch done we headed back to the apartment to play some Wii tennis and then she generously gave me a lift back to the hostel. Thank god she did as it took around 30 mins by car and was way out of the city centre, who knows how I would have made it back or how long it would have taken through a combo of buses and walking!
Upon entering the hostel all the boys were sat in the lounge area watching TV looking severely worse for wear, but I was riding on a wave and wanted to head straight back out again. The only taker was Jack, who upon sitting on a low sofa hunched over a laptop with his beanie on I remarked looked like a homeless where's Wally! Sat around the tele some stories came out from last night as we had all got separated including Gareth who had met up with the cocktail waitress the night before and had told him that she had "slightly whorish tendencies" lol whatever that means, and Adam (a friend of Gareth's who had flown in the night before) who had pulled some 40-odd year old and had sent a txt saying that she "tasted like toothpaste". Fully refreshed after a shower and change of clothes me and Jack walked down to the afternoon parade armed with the first can of the day from the local store.
As is customary at the parades we waited to collect beads and other random items thrown from the floats and boy did we get some crackers. Jack caught a weird stuffed purple frog and a giant lime green comb, and I caught a green toy trumpet and we decided we would use both sets of items (along with the beads of course) to entertain the ladies. After walking the streets for a few hours getting more and more sloshed (including Jack hilariously borrowing a buskers guitar to play a tune to the passing crowds) it was the evening and we decided that we needed to get something to eat otherwise it would be an early bed for both of us. Having nowhere planned to go but really fancying some traditional Louisiana cuisine for the first time of the week we stumbled across a nice restaurant which would change the course of the week (and indeed my life) significantly and for the better.
We got seated on a table for two by the window (which was rather romantic haha) and on the table next to us I caught the eye and smile of a cute gorgeous girl sat seemingly having dinner with her parents. Well Jack treated us to Louisiana crab cakes for starters (which were incredible by the way) but while we waited for dinner to come we started chatting to them. Turned out her name was Rachel and she was with her mum and step-dad for the Superbowl as although she was from Texas had attended university in New Orleans. Well after introducing ourselves and the crab cakes Rachel came and sat next to me clearly enamoured with the British accent lol. We talked and really clicked, meanwhile Jack played wingman the best I have ever seen in keeping her folks entertained (and for that I will be forever grateful.) By the end of dinner, where I had had jambalaya for my mains, Rachel asked her folks if it was ok for her to head out with me and Jack for the rest of the evening, and amazingly she said yes! So off we went.
First stop was a bar on Bourbon St for a double shot of Bacardi (Rachel's choice I hasten to add, god knows why!?) which turned out to be a gay bar where Jack amused us by revelling in the attention. The hilarity continued as we took her to Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop where as we were sat chatting at the bar Jack was cornered by a woman of at least 50 (in other words 20 years his senior) who he then proceeded to kiss! My mouth was agape with shock and I think Rachel was truly getting a taste of how fun and what a hero he was. We moved on to the Spotted Cat for some music and then Rachel invited us back for a smoke and to share a mini-King Cake, which is a iced pastry made especially during Mardi Gras time with a plastic gold baby toy on top (and I am reliably informed and was forcefully corrected that it is not a donut despite looking exactly like one.) The place where she was staying was her Aunt's apartment right in heart of the French Quarter, which was full of mannequins and costumes as she was a dressmaker for Mardi gras, and was the strangest yet most whimsical place I have ever stayed.
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