N'Awlins in the Fall

...is just like Michigan in the Summer. Actually, Michigan right now, given that it was in the high '70s yesterday in Flint. "But what are you doing in New Orleans, Simon?" I hear you ask. Well, I'm attending a conference if you must know, this one, in fact. But enough of that, the real reason is of course to see New Orleans. We did come here many eons ago when we were still in Arkansas and Thomas was just a tiny tot. That was in April or something and we were actually worried that Thomas would get cooked. He went an alarming pink. Right now it is shorts weather (I planned ahead and am wearing shorts and a pair of sandals that a panhandler referred to as "flip flops" and said he knew where I got them and what would I give him if he was right? As the answer was "Amazon.com" that was either too easy or something he wasn't going to guess so I gave him a dollar to leave me alone (cheap at the price. And indeed, I am cheap. Sidenote: panhandlers everywhere!) and overcast. Apparently we're due for storms tomorrow and Saturday, but as the conference will be in full swing then we probably won't know. The trip here was pretty uneventful. The flight from Flint to Atlanta was delayed at first but then almost back on time (so if I'd believed the text that I got from Delta (! what an age we live in) and come much later I would have missed it - fortunately Jami was already driving me to the airport and Frederick had been prepped to say goodbye so there was no way we were turning round) and I discovered that you can get peanuts on 'planes again (albeit in the tiniest packages imaginable). That flight was pretty empty - I had three seats to myself - but the flight from Atlanta to New Orleans was in fact "oversold" (did you know they think they can do that? The nerve) so I was given the opportunity to take another flight and get a coupon. Apparently some people do that just for kicks. I politely declined. The trip from the airport to the hotel took a while and cost a fortune ($36!) but at least it was a set fortune, because an airport employee acts as middle-person between you and the taxi and gives you a card that states firmly that it is a flat rate of $36 from the airport to the city. My driver, like all the others, appeared middle-Eastern, and by the thickness of his accent, newly arrived. He was not a believer in air conditioning (or bathing, it seemed) so we hurtled along the freeway with the windows down (and 2 feet behind the other traffic - I had to close my eyes). It was a bit like a very no-frills roller coaster. The hotel is very nice, and my room is HUGE (pictures later - I didn't take any before because it was dark last night and very gloomy when I left this morning because it was foggy) but now I've strolled round the French Quarter, I can't help wishing I was in one of the old ones that seem to be packed, appropriately enough, with French tourists. Anyway, here's some photos:
  The Hotel. Told you it was generic.
This was the only thing on the menu at the hotel restaurant (I arrived after 11 and there was no food on the 'plane (not even peanuts on the second flight)) whose price didn't make me blanch. It was a "soup sampler". Delicious, but those cups are espresso size. Now an assortment of the sights of the French Quarter. As I don't know what they are, I won't pretend to tell you: