For the record, these titles are slogans from t-shirts I’ve seen in the stores here. Like most places, almost all the stores have basically the same designs at around the same prices.

Today’s alleged plan was to wander through the French Quarter, soak up the feel of the place, maybe do a tour if I felt so inclined. Two out of Two And A Half ain’t bad.

Wandered along Bourbon Street, and Royal Street, and that one starting with a “C” that I can’t remember the name of, working on the idea that I’d turn back if it looked too dodgy. Well, it got residential before it got dodgy, so that works out well.

There were a few bands set up, some in the streets, one outside Jackson Square, doing what looks to be the New Orleans variant of busking, where you put out a bucket, and the more mobile folks in the brass section occasionally carry it around during a song.

I found Cafe Du Monde more or less by accident. For the record, I wasn’t lost, so much as uninterested in exactly where I was, which allowed me to wonder what that place over there is, and find the aforementioned establishment.

Not what I expected. I’d assumed, from the name & the number of folks who’ve mentioned it unbidden and unrelated, that it would be some high-end place with fine everything and a long-ass line.

The reality was much better. Covered and railed-off area with a bunch of little cafe tables, server/porter/waiter/clearers in uniforms snaking their way through the space, and a menu so simple they can fit it on the side of the napkin dispenser.

From seeing it, I assumed I’d go to a counter, get food or maybe a little tag with a number, and find a table. Nope, table service; Sit down, wait a spell, and they come by.

I got a freshly cleared spot by the railing separating Cafe from Street, and had Cafe Au Lait and Beignets.

Not sure why the coffee comes in a lidded cup, but with an actual cup. Maybe to avoid spillage?

There is a mountain of powdered sugar on those things, which explains the white splatches on the paving. And on my black shirt. And jeans.

I looked like I had crotch-dandruff.

No regrets.

Post-pastry, I wandered back to my hotel, because the heat & sun were intense, though I went via Frenchman Street, which turns out to be a big covered market largely filled with the same tourist stuff, plus the odd unique place trying to be noticed.

First time that’s happened, though I have had them ask “is that for me?” if I’ve been in the room at the time.

Went out again in the evening, in time to see a high school marching band setting up & starting their march, followed by a throng of people in mostly partying attire, aside from the folks in business casual, and tail chased by a smaller band playing different tunes.

Clearly an organised thing, there were police leads & a tail of some sort, and a planned route.

The tourists took photos, the locals … sort of worked around it with a smile? The high school drummers were getting a phenomenal amount of volume going; I took some video, but uploading isn’t working, so so much for that.

I followed them for a bit, until they made a turn off Canal Street and into the French Quarter, then headed off along the waterfront for no particular reason.

I noticed structures like what’s badly pictured below yesterday, but didn’t figure them out until today; Pop-up floodwalls, to fill the gaps in the barriers.

In my defence, the walls in the other places looked to be in the sort of spots you’d have them anyway; Beside train tracks for the most part.

On the way back to the hotel, it became clear that the bands out during the Reign of the Day Star were just the beginning. A whole lot of bands on Bourbon Street, so that’s where I’ll be tomorrow night.