I am not a fan of bicycles or kayaks come to that. I like to walk, an activity that allows me to see and to stop and to travel outside the traffic lanes. I used to do a lot of it in Key West and it never got old.
Sometimes it is true a rest feels good and Washington Park in Faubourg Marigny, the district next to the French Quarter (the Vieux Carré) is a pretty good spot to sit in the shade.
New Orleans is not wheelchair friendly. Ever since my time in a chair I have become rather more aware of this need. Key West could do a lot better but these sidewalks are useless if you are handicapped.
Faubourg Marigny is named for the man, the boy really, who created this district next to, or “in front of” (Faubourg) the Vieux Carré, the old quarter. Phillipe de Marigny de Mandeville inherited his land in 1799 on the death of his father, when the heir was just 14 years old. He traveled to Europe to learn business and came home to New Orleans with a few fresh ideas to make the most of his inheritance. At age 20 in 1805 he sold parcels of his land just outside New Orlean’s overcrowded hub, thus creating a new Faubourg bearing his name.
So he got his name on the map, good man but also created a district that I find, in the 21st century, to be much more attractive than the overhyped French Quarter. Faubourg Marigny has music food and attractive architecture but it is less hyped and less Bourbon-Street-like than “ the Quarter.” On a hot September morning it is positively drowsy.
Heavily shuttered windows are a reminder that much of downtown is owned for seasonal residence not permanent living in the marshes of southern Louisiana.
Street smarts are not my forte but in New Orleans you have to lock up your property and be aware of your surroundings. I lived without a front door key in Cudjoe but that would not be possible here. Far from it.
There is beauty as well as money in New Orleans with good food and traditional jazz that I am quite partial to, and the bourbon lily is that symbol.
Its funny really to see all this French cultural attachment in a city that was mostly governed by Spain during its pre-American history. There was a brief window when France took over the city during Napoleon’s costly European wars but he promptly sold the Louisiana purchase to the US as he knew France couldn’t keep her American colonies and he might as well make a buck off them to find his endless wars.
The net result in 1802, the era of slow transatlantic communications was a city that learned it was now French and no longer Spanish only by the time it had been sold to the United States unbeknownst to city residents. That news arrived months later and made very few people happy. Some left while others hunkered down and refused to learn English or accept their new status. De Marigny made money and good for him I guess; a new American.
Rusty seemed to enjoy his walk which we took after I dropped Layne and Kathy off at cooking school in the Vieux Carré.
Our apartment, which we vacated Tuesday morning was in the Bywater a district further out from the French Quarter than the Faubourg Marigny. The Bywater is more industrial and less touristy than either of the other two areas but the apartment suited us with fenced parking and modern amenities including hot running water and air conditioning.
Modern American bland let’s face it but quite comfortable with plenty of safe parking for GANNET2 in the fenced lot. I’d come back here.
Just as in our previous life in the Keys Rusty would wake me up at four in the morning and off we’d go into the night, when walking is coolest and with no one around he could be safely off leash stopping as he pleased.
The classic broad median strips with fully grown oaks on them are known as “neutral ground” in New Orleans, a city that has had to learn to cope with ethnic diversity before it became a modern fashion. Neutral ground separated the various factions in town, French Spanish and American and eventually blacks and others who came into the city.
And as note to ardent French speakers street names are not what they appear. Burgundy Street is not pronounced like the wine but in New Orleans it’s Bur-GUN-dy which sounds weird but there it is. Chartres is pronounced “charter” and so forth. American English trumps Francophone pronunciation.
Graffiti are everywhere, much of it unintelligible, some crude and a little of it humorous. But it is everywhere in a city seeking self expression one way or another.
And Rusty found some mysterious crunchy stuff to enjoy. The neighborhood is pretty quiet with not barking dogs or loud cats in the evening.
You have to admit the straight lines and identical brick buildings in the French Quarter look pretty monotonous by comparison:
