Happy days in New Orleans
I landed at Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport after a long flight from Asia and was dead tired and jet lagged. Nonetheless, I decided to head out for a drink for an hour on my first evening.
The French Quarter was ridiculously touristy, so I just wanted to get away from there. I checked residentadvisor.net (tips on finding a good party) and saw that a DJ that had played at the Panorama Bar in Berlin, was doing a gig in New Orleans that night.
Once there, I started talking with the bartender. Which eventually resulted in me and his pals talking until the wee small hours. We then headed to the next place. Once there, one of the bartender’s friends and I decided we should head home to take the dog for a walk. Could this be code for something, I wondered? But either way, I found myself out walking a dog on the outskirts of New Orleans at 9 am.
The next day I woke up with a jerk, fully dressed. The person’s roomie was standing about 10cm from me eyeing my closed eyelids.
“Don’t mind me,” said the roomie and disappeared.
I realized I was lying in a room packed with sequin suits. An overwhelming sense of “how the heck did I get here?” sprang to mind. But three seconds later, the dog owner came in and said:
“Oh you’re awake! Wanna come to a pool party?”
Go with the flow, I thought, and answered:
It was about 3 pm, I was so out of it with jet lag that the bizarre situation I found myself in brought me straight back to my senses.
We headed to the Drifter Hotel, which I must say is the most handsome hotel I have ever seen in the US. Wow! They have regular Sunday Pool Parties and the first thing I noticed was that they also had a top optional policy. So many guests are very naked. So it goes.
We sat down and chatted with my new friend’s friends and had a pretty fun time. My new pal dropped me off at my hotel at 11 pm, pretty much exactly 24 hours since I had stepped out to have a drink.
“Time for some sleep,” I thought.
But it was impossible. I was still out of sync with jet lag and so I decided to have another attempt at simply going for a drink. I called The Drifter Hotel to ask if they could recommend a good cocktail bar. A few moments later, I was on the move again.
There was one seat left at the recommended Bar Tonique that specialized in Mezcal. Which was why I ordered an Old Fashioned with Mezcal for the first time, that has since become a favorite of mine. I met an incredible number of random people in this particular bar. A divorce lawyer insisted on giving me their number every time their date went to the restroom and I taught a group of bartenders from Oklahoma to sing a Swedish drinking song. Eventually, I was the last guest still there, and so the bartender and I sat talking about everything and nothing until 7 am. A drink, was it going to be? What more can I say? The evenings are quite simply much longer in New Orleans.
When the waiter in Milan asked if I would like a grappa with my food, you should not answer “When in Rome” as I did yesterday.
Rent an apartment with a washing machine
I did this in Barcelona last week. So wonderful not to come home and need to tackle two weeks’ worth of dirty laundry.
Friends you acquire when traveling
I met three handsome dudes in the hotel elevator in New Orleans. I still keep in contact with them today, actually. They run a fantastic charity organization Tankproof that helps poor kids in Louisiana learn how to swim.
November 08, 2018