Did you know, New Orleans was founded in 1718, by a Frenchman named Bienville, and named in honour of the Duke of Orleans, who was the Regent of France at the time.

It then passed to the Spanish for 24 years before being swapped back to France in 1803. Guess what the French did? They quickly sold it to the Americans for $15 million.

When I say France sold it I actually mean Napoleon. He wanted cash to build up his army and go on a bit of a rampage and whilst $15 million may not seem like a lot of cash it is equivalent to over $600 billion in today’s value.

For that the Americans not only got New Orleans – the ‘Louisiana Purchase’ as it was called included land from 15 present American states and 2 Canadian provinces.  Not a bad deal.

The US has never looked back since and Napoleon became an Emperor, caused a whole lot of trouble with the American money, invaded any country he could reach and didn’t stop until he was defeated at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815.

So you could say New Orleans was indirectly responsible for Napoleon’s reign and all the trouble he caused. I appreciate historians will probably disagree and say its a more complex picture than that but I know you’re the kind of person who prefers a potted history and, even with this version, you’re interest is seriously waning and maybe you’ve already scrolled onto the pictures below.

To start up your interest again lets talk about something close to everyone’s heart and the question on everyone’s lips – what’s happening to the front wheel spokes that big lardy has been breaking due to his excessive weight?  Yes i know you don’t say it but that’s what you’re thinking.

Well after a bit of internet research and a visit to a couple of bike shops we ended up at Bicycle Michaels in the French quarter in NOLA. Here’s Susan sitting in the bike shop tired and bored – she’s been in more bike shops this trip than she has in the rest of her life.

Yes, as you can see, its a proper job bike shop and the oldest bike shop in New Orleans. Michael took our wheel under his care and replaced all the spokes. This is the third bicycle shop the front wheel has been in and, hopefully, the last. Thanks Michael.

So what about New Orleans? Well I can’t tell you everything that happened in our three days as I’ve already spent too long talking about some interesting history at the beginning. So here’s a quick summary.

Friday night we went to the French Quarter where we listened to jazz and blues at countless venues including the famous Spotted Cat.

I couldn’t believe how many free venues there were in NOLA with live music at all times of the day. You can’t pass a doorway in the central area without music drifting out.

Saturday morning I took Susan to a festival – the annual Fried Chicken festival. What a treat!

I’ve already mentioned that sharing fried chicken is the way to a happy relationship. Well you cant imagine the bonus points your relationship gets if you go to a fried chicken festival with over 50 stalls producing some of the best friend chicken in the world!  In the world!  I’ll say that once again in case your skimming over this section (you must be a salad person if you are) – the best fried chicken in the world!

And don’t think its just chicken and chips – our first snack was chicken wings (spicy, battered and deep fried of course) with beignets (that’s small donuts to you) and covered with a sweet pecan caramel sauce. Cosmopolitan or what?

Saturday night we went down the touristy Bourbon Street where Susan turned into a beer monster like her husband.

In case you’re wondering, Susan hasn’t shrunk – that’s a two pint plastic cup of beer. Yes I know its plastic but most of my drinks are from McDonalds so a plastic cup suits me fine. I would actually now prefer if my beer had a plastic lid and a straw! Then, if they could just make it refillable I don’t think i would ever go back to the UK!

Now I know you’ve already had enough pictures of Susan and I’m in danger it of overdoing it like i did with the history but I’ve at least got to share her night out outfit for New Orleans – she really did make an effort!

I’m sorry I didn’t manage to get her legs in. Moving on, here’s some other sights and sounds:

 

Now here’s a picture of our friend Martin who we met briefly on our journey. Martin as you may recall cycled across USA from the west coast to NOLA and finished the journey from Jacksonville to NOLA. Here’s Martin at the finish in a typical heroic cycle pose. Well done Martin!

Now, here’s a man, at the same location, who’s had too many absinthe cocktails at the wonderful Bar Tonique – I think he’s lifting an imaginary bicycle. Thankfully due to the shadows we cant really identify who this man is.

And there’s something else I must share with you that I haven’t yet shared with Susan. Yes I know she’s going to read it now and there may be some consequences but listen to this.

I’m in Bar Tonique having a few absinthe cocktails as you do. Oh by the way, the two most famous cocktails in NOLA are the Ramos Gin Fizz and the Sauzerac – the Sauzerac is made with absinthe, of course. Now back to the story after another interesting and stimulating fact.

So I’m in the bar with Susan, we’re in the city of the dead, its a full moon night and I need to go to the gents. I’m doing what guys do at the urinal and look up at the wall (as we do guys) and there’s this written:

Yup! Exactly!

Now the more astute of you will be thinking – what’s he doing taking his camera out in a gents toilet but I had to photograph it just in case I met a gory end. You cant tell a man drinking absinthe on a full moon night in the city of the dead, married to a Susan that everything’s going to be okay after he’s read that warning! I’m still here, of course, but maybe that’s just because I now wear silver bullet around my neck.

Finally, I can read your thoughts yet again. You’re thinking, you’ve been to one of the best music cities in the world so what about a music video from one of those many venues you visited. Jazz, blues, skiffle or country?

Well I will give you music, real sweet music – a duet of Harleys in Bourbon Street, courtesy of NOLA’s finest.

 

Eh? Nuff said.

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