Once more into the breach. Or onto the road. We left New Orleans yesterday morning and without regret.
Some... no, many... people love New Orleans, especially the French Quarter. I probably would have too... many years ago. When I was younger. Maybe when I was in my 20's or 30's. Today? Today it is too noisy, too crowded, too full of itself for my tastes.
We had checked into the recommended hotel, the Royal Sonesta on Bourbon Street. Just getting there was difficult. These streets were made for walking, or riding a horse, or in a small carriage. Narrow. They were not made for cars. Uneven, crowded, in poor repair; with blind intersections and a mixture of drivers who had no idea where they were going and ones a bit too familiar with the area. the Gramin helped but not a lot. A street here and there blocked off for repair or delivery or just because. The street name signs were often missing and the GPS "lady" kept announcing she was "recalculating... recalculating" as I missed turns.
Eventually, we found Bourbon Street and went past the front of the hotel. We turned down the next street, Conti, and found an entrance into the underground parking. Tight, narrow, dark. Confusing. But we found the valet parking at the garage level hotel entrance and gladly turned the car over to the valet service. A bellman was called and appeared, gathering our bags as we made our way upstairs into the main lobby.
And then it began... the coldness. Very cold, much colder than I like my AC to be. We learned that it would cost us $36 per day to park, billed to our rather expensive room. No real choice, of course. There was no inexpensive parking to be had nearby. Besides, we we had already turned the car over to them. We followed the bellman as he led us to the elevators and then along the hallway to our room. A small, overpriced, room with a king bed. Beautifully furnished, though. Non-smoking. Faye would have to take the elevator down 4 floors to go outside to smoke. Pity.
The room was reminiscent of the cooler room in the 7-Eleven where I used to stock shelves for spare money from time to time. Freezing cold to me. 65F according to the thermostat. Turning it up made no difference. The thermostat was just for show, it seemed. I called the front desk, they seemed surprised. Promised to send an "engineer" up to fix it. It took a second call a few hours later before anyone showed up. It was pronounced "fixed" but wasn't. The only choice I had was to turn the fan off and let it get too warm for sleeping and then get up at 3 AM to turn the fan on again so it would blow cold air on me while I tried to keep warm under the covers.
Two days of this. The wedding was beautiful, as was the bride. The groom handsome but stressed. They chose the French Quarter for the wedding because they both love the place.
But me? I will never go back to the French Quarter or New Orleans. I have seen all of it I wish to.