On Wednesday I ventured off to explore the French Quarter on my own. This neighborhood was founded in the early 1700s as part of the French Louisiana colony. Fires in the late 1700s destroyed most of the original buildings and when they were rebuilt they reflected Spanish architecture because by this time Spain owned much of the area.
Old buildings...
New buildings...
Little alleyways.
Walking from behind St Louis Cathedral towards Jackson Square.
The cathedral was very quiet and solemn inside.
Ceiling of the cathedral.
The pulpit looks like a giant clamshell.
The sanctuary.
The organ at the back of the cathedral.
It had been perfectly sunny when I went into the cathedral, but when I came back out it was raining. That was OK, as the rain had driven away most of the street vendors between the cathedral and Jackson Square, so I got to walk around in relative peace.
Statue of Andrew Jackson, with the cathedral in the background.
I read somewhere that this statue of Andrew Jackson astride a horse was the first statue in which a horse had two feet off the ground.
Cathedral again.
After I left the cathedral I wandered down more residential streets.
This is the Old Ursuline Convent, which some say is the oldest building in New Orleans. This is a French style of architecture as opposed to Spanish.
Across the street from the convent is the Beauregard-Keyes House. An architect from Baltimore designed the house and garden, which was built in the 1800s. I loved this little barred window into the garden.
Peering through the bars you see this.
More meandering through the streets.
I love the balcony gardens.
Though this house is not marked in any way and sits unassumingly on the street, it is the LaLaurie Mansion, with a grisly history of torture and murder and is considered to be haunted.
I believe this is a type of house called a shotgun house, which is very narrow and long, and consists of rooms leading one into another without any hallways.
I think I would have had to turn sideways to walk through this narrow doorway!
I had been walking for several hours in the steamy heat and I took a break at the French Market, drinking a bottle of water and listening to these guys on guitars and harmonica. I decided there was no way I could walk all the way back to my hotel -- my feet were killing me. But I didn't have exact change for the streetcar, so I was simply forced to go to Cafe du Monde and enjoy a frozen cafe au lait to break my $20.
Behind the Cafe, this lady looked quite comfortable. I thought of stopping to soak my feet in her fountain but thought that would be kind of gauche.
Clothes hanging in a shop, looking more like they are on a clothesline hanging to dry.
Some other tourists helped me get on the right streetcar and took this picture of my exhausted self! As soon as I got back up to my room at the hotel, I ran cold water into the bathtub and sat on the edge letting my feet soak. Ahhhhhh... Less than an hour later, Dan called and said he and Kevan were done for the day, so why don't I come down to the Convention Center to meet them and go somewhere for dinner?
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