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It's been the ruin of every poor boy
Jun. 26th, 2010 08:00 pm"If you post, I'm going to read all of it. And then things that make me angry... I'll punch you." - ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
annemariewrites *
Okay, so I have to make a somewhat cens0red post until I can get away from that ho above, so bear with me.
We're staying in this cosy** hotel on Chartres in the French Quarter. It at least has air conditioning, which is the raddest thing ever when stepping outside into what is akin to a sauna. Despite that, and the sunburn despite slathering on factor 50 sunscreen, it's still more bearable than the heat in Barcelona becaues of the air conditioning of a night. Represent!
I was a little apprehensive about New Orleans if only because the more cities I see, the more jaded I become. It seems all cities have their Pleasant Little Square and their Dangerous Area, a shopping district and arty district, etc, etc.annemariewrites said we'd need to have words if I disliked the city, but she can rest easy.
I. love. it.
I love the sultry heat and the gorgeous architecture and the ineffable friendliness of the people and the ornate plantations and the mouth-watering food. I've tried gumbo and etoufee, drinking on Bourbon Street and beignets at the Cafe du Monde (to die for). We've wandered Oak Alley plantation and enjoyed the life on Royal Street (you'll always be Rue Royale to me, bb). We've sat in Jackson Square and listened to jazz, gawked at the Mississippi and imagined so many different stories here. It's fantastic.
I am also under a threat to write original fiction from my awesome travelling buddy, though we may end up suing each other over a fabulous idea we had at the same time during a visit to Oak Alley. >:D
*She is a speed demon. She sings Katy Perry songs until my eyes are like popping out of my head. She accuses me of beating her up in the night, when I'm only kicking her. A little. She'll save children, but not the British children. I may have retaliated by explaining The Human Centipede to her.
*small.
annemariewrites *Okay, so I have to make a somewhat cens0red post until I can get away from that ho above, so bear with me.
We're staying in this cosy** hotel on Chartres in the French Quarter. It at least has air conditioning, which is the raddest thing ever when stepping outside into what is akin to a sauna. Despite that, and the sunburn despite slathering on factor 50 sunscreen, it's still more bearable than the heat in Barcelona becaues of the air conditioning of a night. Represent!
I was a little apprehensive about New Orleans if only because the more cities I see, the more jaded I become. It seems all cities have their Pleasant Little Square and their Dangerous Area, a shopping district and arty district, etc, etc.
annemariewrites said we'd need to have words if I disliked the city, but she can rest easy. I. love. it.
I love the sultry heat and the gorgeous architecture and the ineffable friendliness of the people and the ornate plantations and the mouth-watering food. I've tried gumbo and etoufee, drinking on Bourbon Street and beignets at the Cafe du Monde (to die for). We've wandered Oak Alley plantation and enjoyed the life on Royal Street (you'll always be Rue Royale to me, bb). We've sat in Jackson Square and listened to jazz, gawked at the Mississippi and imagined so many different stories here. It's fantastic.
I am also under a threat to write original fiction from my awesome travelling buddy, though we may end up suing each other over a fabulous idea we had at the same time during a visit to Oak Alley. >:D
*She is a speed demon. She sings Katy Perry songs until my eyes are like popping out of my head. She accuses me of beating her up in the night, when I'm only kicking her. A little. She'll save children, but not the British children. I may have retaliated by explaining The Human Centipede to her.
*small.
