So at 6 AM, we had to wake up. I wanted to stay laying in bed, but those planes don't really wait around. So I packed up most of my stuff, while Nicole and Catherine packed up all of theirs. At 7:30, the cab arrived to take them to the airport. Catherine and I shared a quick goodbye kiss, she got in the car, and I watched it slowly roll down Esplanade St and out of sight.
I headed back upstairs to the tiniest exercise room I've ever seen. I did 10 minutes on both the treadmill and the bike. I had to use the bathroom and it ws at this point I realized there was no toilet paper in the room. I mean, when a maid is cleaning the room, I would think restocking toilet paper should be somewhere on the checklist. I did get some delivered, thankfully! I then showered with my music blasting and the bathroom door wide open. I proceeded to eat the first quarter of the muffuletta and I actually enjoyed it, in spite of the olives.
So I walked down to the river and sat on the bench for maybe an hour while playing music and reading some of Mr. Nee. I then went into the St. Louis Cathedral. Though I'm not Catholic, I was very impressed with the paining on the ceiling as well as the statues. They also display flags of every country that Louisiana has ever been governed by. I said a quick prayer in the prayer room and headed next door to the Cabildo museum. This is basically the building that displays the history of Louisiana. I snuck into the back of a group of high school students and walked through a few rooms with them. I think the highlight for me was the Sala Capitular. This room, which is maybe the size of an average living room, has Napoleon's death mask and is also the site where President Jefferson signed the Louisiana Purchase and where the Louisana Supreme Court met for 50 years. I also checked out some war memorabilia and a rock 'n roll exhibit.
Right outside in Jackson Square, was a 9-piece band playing some R&B. I sat down at a nearby bench and just enjoyed it for a while. I was getting pretty hungry by now, so I headed back towards the river to the Dumaine St streetcar stop (#3 of 9 stops). I waited no less than 20 minutes. And the annoying part was after 5 minutes, a train passed me going in the opposite direction. So I knew it had two stops to go before it would turn around, pick me up, and take me to the CBD. Yet, the car just wasn't moving. It got so ridiculous, I called the RTA and asked what was going on. Eventually, the car came and I walked into Emeril's at the corner of Julia and Tchoupitoulas just after 12 pm.
It wasn’t very crowded, though I wouldn’t expect that for a weekday lunch. The hostess asked my last name and I told her. That led to both my waiters (although I could have called one “the apprentice”, he looked like he had skipped middle school for the day) calling me Mr. Bartolo. Can’t say I minded that.
They served me two different types of rolls, one at a time. I believe one was made with corn flour and one with sweet potato flour, thought I didn’t hear the waiter very clearly. Both tasted hot and fresh. I knew my appetizer would be BBQ shrimp. For $10, I got five shrimp in a classic brown gravy sprinkled with green onions, accompanied by a petite rosemary biscuit. Great flavor on the shrimp. My only complaint was I didn’t have more biscuits to soak up that sauce. I wasn’t as sure about choosing my entrée. I thought about the chicken and waffles, or just a Creole burger with remoulade and homemade pickles. In the end, I took my waiter’s tip and went with the Andouille crusted drum. Now when I first saw it on the menu, I figured it was a chicken drumstick. So I figured how is a drumstick ever going to fill me? Turns out a drum is actually a redfish. It came on a bed of shoestring potatoes with a Meuniere sauce (Brown butter with lemon and herbs) and summer squash. It was certainly a different lunch for me, but I really enjoyed the crispiness of the potatoes to go with the flaky fish. It was a pretty small portion, but I enjoyed it. I suppose I would order it again. But it was dessert that I came for. For the first time since I visited Vegas with my parents, I got to enjoy a piece of banana cream pie and this piece was all mine! The graham cracker crust, three layers of sliced bananas mixed in pudding, fresh whipped cream, caramel sauce, crisp chocolate shavings, and a dusting of powdered sugar. Eight dollars for a taste of pure heaven.
A happy man, I skipped the streetcar and walked back up Tchoupitoulas and then through Decatur St back to the hotel. This was a street I hadn’t traveled down before and I saw some interesting things. I passed the Jean Lafitte site as well a statue dedicated to the founder of New Orleans. I also saw Tipitina’s, which I hear is a very cool jazz club. Right after I crossed Canal St, I got a text from Catherine. Even though they had checked out earlier and explained to the clerk that I would be leaving later, he did not relay that message on to the women working the following shift. And so they called Catherine’s house thinking she and Nicole didn’t check out because my stuff was still in the room. So I hurried back through the French Market and I made it to the hotel in about 15 minutes. I walked in, turned right to the front desk, and the ladies see me coming, and go “Room Three-Twelve?!” Thankfully, I was able to explain the situation and I left the room for good around 2.
That led to maybe an hour of waiting downstairs for the 3 pm Airport Shuttle without a whole lot for me to do. I walked into Fauborg and jumped on the internet, but I rather would have been on my way. The van arrived about 15 minutes late, but I still got to the airport in plenty of time. I took a smooth 2.5 hour flight back to Chicago, during which I finished the last quarter of my muffuleta along with some Sprite. I guess I arrived at 7:45 pm. Thankfully, it was still about 40 degrees, so the climate change wasn’t too shocking on me. Mom picked me up right after she finished work and we got home at 9. I wish I was back in the creepy room.
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