New Orleans’ French Quarter is intoxicatingly raw. Music at every corner, flowers from every decorative balcony and larger-than-life characters at every turn.
In the day we rode the historic Saint Charles Avenue tram, walked along the Mississippi, visited art galleries and enjoyed the street musicians. As darkness fell and the shadier side of life emerged along Bourbon Street, we ate po’ boys, listened to jazz at the intimate Preservation Hall and sipped Hurricane cocktails at O’Brien’s.
In a world that’s becoming all too uniform, this is a unique place. No wonder the streets buzzed with Americans down for the long Easter weekend.