I'm Always All Right in New Orleans

Overhead view of N. Rampart St., New Orleans, LA

4 out of 5 Australian travel agents read our blog.  Your humble narrator learned that from a reliable source.   High praise, indeed.  Thank you, one and all.  Keep sending business our way.  We love to treat everyone right.  

I'm not going to say if you're from Australia you'll get special treatment above and beyond what we normally provide but if you're from Australia I'll ask Frau Schmitt to break out the jar of Vegemite we keep on hand for breakfast.  I also promise that I will never mention Crocodile Dundee.  If you've been traveling the U.S. for awhile, by the time you reach New Orleans, you're already tired of the Crocodile Dundee jokes.  

We're not going to discuss shrimp on the barbie.

Enough of that.  We appreciate everyone who chooses to visit New Orleans, from wherever they may hail, even if it's from New Zealand.  We equally love Kiwis, too.  People from Australia and New Zealand hate when Americans confuse them.  They are two different countries.  Frau Schmitt and I know that.  She told me and she is usually right about these things.

It sometimes occurs to me when I'm chatting around the dining room at breakfast that I'm speaking some kind of alternate language where words mean one thing in the context that I'm saying them but they mean something else to the people hearing them.  I can tell by the puzzled looks I get.  Then, I backtrack and explain in a coaxial cable kind of conversation that winds around itself and is full of rich detail that is mostly forgotten and lost once it reaches its final destination.  It the parts that sticks to the bones that matter.  Just ask our dog.

I speak a New Orleans patois full of terms and references that only make sense if you live here.  I speak an international traveler kind of creole.  I speak like I'm from Connecticut, all business, shoot-from-the-hip Yankee.  I speak the sterling smooth tones of a welcoming host, which I am.  And I'm a goodwill ambassador for this magical city Frau Schmitt and I call home.  Frau Schmitt is, too.  Layers on top of layers, like a doberge cake.  You'd think I'd provide a link to "doberge cake," but, no, I'm gonna make you google it yourself if you're interested in what I'm talking about in this case.

Hallowe'en is coming

There's a house across from the Ursulines Academy that was featured in the New Orleans Advocate.  The Advocate is a newspaper, its a paper newspaper.  It's the rolled up newsprint that gets tossed on our front porch every morning, the one I read every day before our guests show up for breakfast.  It's the paper in which I solve the Jumble, in pen, in about one minute flat.  I'm not talking about the New Orleans Times-Picayune.  

Most people associate the Times-Picayune with New Orleans.  I never read that irregularly-printed, out-of-state-owned, turncoat rag.  Fluff and puffandstuff if you ask me.  Get your New Orleans news however you can, though.  Who am I to judge?  Have I mentioned that this is the #1 New Orleans blog read by Australian travel agents?  Now you know.

Hallowe'en House bachannal

I thought the house was on Claiborne Avenue.  This is going to be a thrilling bit of street grid geography for you, but bear with me.  I thought the house where the skeletons are was on Claiborne Avenue, but the Ursulines Academy takes up a full two city blocks.  One part, the narrow face where the athletic center is, faces Claiborne Ave.  Where the skeletons are, is on State Street, right across the street from the National Shrine of Our Lady of Prompt Succor.  I've gotta admit, I've got mixed feelings about this tableau's placement.  

There is something to be said for mementi mori, though, so I don't have too many qualms.  When I stopped by to take pictures, two guys from Jimmy's Pest Control were servicing the property next door and the two pest control technicians who got out of the van were admiring the skeletons.

"What do you think?" I asked John.

John said, "I think I don't want to be a skeleton, even if I'm painted in Day-Glo."

"How about you, Juan?" I asked Juan.

"I think I should spend some time in the shrine across the street," Juan said.  Then he did just that.  John followed Juan while I was taking pictures of the Day-Glo skeletons and their dogs.

Out for a stroll, Uptown, New Orleans, LA

The past twelve paragraphs have been leading up to the real subject of today's installment which is the the subject of traveler's constipation.  Surprise!!

Get that giggle out of the way.  This is a serious malady.

All right, are you ready to continue?  

When some people travel, they are bothered by an intestinal sluggishness, if you want to call it that.  The cause may be the low-level anxiety of being in a new place.  It may be a shift in time zones or climate.  It may be the change in diet; after all, the food in New Orleans is very rich and it probably isn't what you're used to where you come from.  

We don't normally discuss this with our guests unless they bring it up.  Some people bring it up.  Whenever they do, it's in private consultation, guest to innkeeper.  It's like a doctor-patient relationship or attorney-client privilege.  Don't be ashamed to ask us anything.   We have been asked to provide answers for all sorts of questions.  Your secrets are safe with us.  That is what we are here for.  

Thankfully, no one has ever raised the subject at breakfast in front of our other guests, though I suppose that would be one way to quickly change the topic from talking about the difference between Australia and New Zealand.

Well, I found a video.  Please, any fetishists are encouraged to leave this page now.  This post isn't posted for your jollies.  That's why this video is buried at the bottom of this installment.  There is a way to encourage peristalsis manually according to the video evidence I've researched at a guest's request.  (Who says we don't go the extra mile?)

Frau Schmitt makes sure I have plenty of fiber in my diet and she is usually right about these things.  I prefer to call it roughage, but I'm old fashioned about these things.  There is plenty of fried food and cream sauce in New Orleans, but if you ask you can usually get a salad on the side. 

I've never tried the method illustrated below, nor have I asked any of our guests if they have gotten good results.  Most things that happen in our suites are none of our business.  I always believe patience is it's own reward.  However, if you are a mind to self massage the edges of your abdomen, here are some tips:


As always, venturing into uncharted territory for New Orleans B&B blogs, I'm just going to leave that at that.  No wonder Australian travel agents love this blog.  Your humble narrator leaves no stone unturned.

À votre santé,
La Belle Esplanade bed and breakfast.

P.S. If you are visiting New Orleans from Australia, we will never discuss this:

Never.
Never.
Never.
Never.