Dead Spaniards and Russian Gas: Another Day in New Orleans

Our dog

This is the side of our dog that I usually see.  I took our dog for a walk at the Old Spanish Fort today.  I hardly ever take him up there, but when I do there is hardly ever anyone else there so it's a mystery why I don't go there more often.  Personal preference, I suppose.  It's a nice stretch along the mouth of Bayou St. John but it isn't fenced in.  There are plenty of things to smell up there.

I don't smell much myself when I walk around the Spanish Fort.  It's pretty much pristine, but the dog smells plenty so he is amply entertained, though he doesn't run as much as when we go other places.  He keeps his nose snuffling to the ground.  What's he smelling?  I'm not sure.  Maybe it's dead Spaniards.  Maybe its rotten bait left behind by fishermen.  There doesn't seem to be much to eat on the ground there, but there sure does seem to be plenty to sniff out.

Bayou St. John

The part of Bayou St. John we went to isn't the part of Bayou St. John that most of our guests see.  Bayou St. John isn't just a body of water in front of City Park that meanders to Parkway Tavern and Bakery.  It connects to Lake Pontchartrain.  The part in front of City Park seems much more natural than the part at the bayou's mouth.  That is part is purely manmade.

In fact, when I was walking along the edge of the bayou today, I mistakenly thought for a moment that I was on the shore of the London Avenue Canal.  Then I saw the dome of the Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Cathedral and I realized where I was.

You can't see the lake from the Old Spanish Fort.  The view is blocked by some kind of complicated lock and gate mechanism to prevent storm surge flooding Fauburg St. John and the rest of Mid-City.

Mid-City is the largest neighborhood in New Orleans.  It shouldn't be confused with Central City, which is in a different part of town.  Nor should it be confused with the Central Business District, which is usually just called by its initials: CBD.

Oak trees around the Old Spanish Fort

At least the city is leaving the oak trees around the Old Spanish Fort alone.  The trees are growing in luxurious shapes and twists and double backs.  They are really something to see.  They are tall but I don't think they are even a hundred years old (to my amateur arborist's eye).  It's remarkable to see what forms these boughs and branches can take then they don't have to be pruned for power lines and they don't have trucks driving under them every day.

After we left the Spanish Fort, the dog and I scooted down Wisner Boulevard, where the bridge is being replaced.  It's right after the De Saix Boulevard intersection.  How do you pronounce De Saix?  You wing it.  No three people say it the same way.

P.G.T. Beauregard in Beauregard Circle

Over by Beauregard Circle, I saw "Diamond Deuce" Jim and a couple of my other chums singing a song while they were waiting for the Canal Streetcar.  I pulled over and they taught me the words of a new ditty they had picked up on YouTube:



The Gazprom Song.  I'm not sure if they were singing it to be ironic or maybe because they were making a comment on our local power company, Entergy.  Entergy deals in both gas and electricity and powers our city's homes and offices, working days and holidays both.  I didn't stick around long enough to learn why they are suddenly enamored with this song and I didn't stick around long enough to learn all the lyrics.

Besides, it was time for the dog to be fed and he, like I, had little patience for shenanigans at the time.  Another time, perhaps.  There is little about your humble narrator that is ironic.

I was scrolling through the blog archives (which I highly recommend) when I saw that on October 18, 2014, La Belle Esplanade had 132 reviews on Trip Advisor.  That got me to wondering how many we have today, as of this writing.  I just got finished counting.  The total: somewhat more than 132.  I'm so speechless that I can't bring myself to write it down.  I don't want to provoke bad karma. 

Thank you everyone who has taken the time to write about their stay with us and share your good memories with the world (wide web).  It means a lot to Frau Schmitt and your humble narrator.  Thank you.  For new readers who are en route to La Belle Esplanade, we hope that you, too, will pay it forward for the next generation of guests who will follow you.  Should you wish to return to New Orleans in the next twenty years or so, you know where you can find us.

We should always keep in mind, from dawn till sundown, our work is always needed, working day or holiday.  Let's drink to you, let's drink to us, let's drink to all the Russian gas.

---That last verse doesn't sound right does it?  Maybe something is lost in translation.

À votre santé,
La Belle Esplanade