Happiness is New Orleans

You never know what you'll see around any corner in New Orleans.

Since I've moved to New Orleans, I don't find many reasons to travel outside the city's limits.  When you live in New Orleans the sky is the limit, of course, but that's only when you're looking up.  When you live in New Orleans there are very few reasons to visit other cities?  Why?  When you live in New Orleans and you visit another city, maybe on vacation or business, after two days you want to be home again.  That's how I feel.  I hate to travel.  In a New Orleans state of mind, why leave New Orleans unless there is a wedding or a funeral? 

An inviting way to start the day on Ursulines Avenue, New Orleans.

It's been a long time since I last said that I would walk a mile for a Camel cigarette but I wouldn't mind riding my bicycle three miles up St. Bernard Avenue, headed lakeside, to see a statue of a camel in somebody's from yard---right where you'd least expect it.

He is a handsome camel:

Lakeview royalty, New Orleans-style.

I've been riding my bicycle around the great city of New Orleans every morning for the past couple of weeks.  It is flat here and the city is compact.  New Orleans is a real city.  Is is densely full of details, both historic and evolving.  I have lived in New Orleans nine years.  Not a day goes by when I am not astounded.  Happiness is New Orleans.

If you've never been to New Orleans, you should come down for a visit.  

Longer is always better.  No one ever says their visit is too long.  It is always too short.  The longer you are here, the more you'll realize how much more there is to discover and appreciate.  There are treats around every corner.  New Orleans is Candyland with a long francophile pedigree.  

Now a word from our sponsor:  

In a city full of pleasant surprises, you can't get caught up in FOMO.  Follow your instinct.  Use your better intuition when you are in New Orleans.  Stay at La Belle Esplanade a small artisanal hotel on one of the most beautiful streets in the city.  Centrally located to tourist New Orleans and in the rest of New Orleans, where this enchanted city's culture is born, nurtured, and set free.

If your spirit bucket has a hole in it, you better plug that hole with good New Orleans memories.  Put visiting New Orleans on your list of things to do before you die.  When you want to explore and enjoy the authentic New Orleans, stay at La Belle Esplanade.  We live in a city full of happy surprises.

We only have five luxury suites so we tend to fill up early.  Book today and make sure you can explore this wonderful city we call home like you belong here.  You do belong here.

À votre santé,
La Belle Esplanade

New Orleans Innkeeper Jinxed by Voodoo!!

Something is wrong with the blogging software so I'll have to proceed sans illustrations.  This is no great loss, considering my photography skills.

We've been 16 days without an update on this site, which is a record, I think.  There is nothing worse than going to a hotel's website and clicking on the blog to discover there is nothing but a lonely post from 2011.  There is nothing worse than a dead blog.  It shows that the innkeeper doesn't care and that he or she (or they as the case may be) is content to leave irrelevant stale content up that is no use to anyone.  It makes you wonder how they feel about dusting.

Not here though.  We run a clean inn and we like to provide fresh blog content on a regular basis whether or not our past and future guests find it useful.  That's how we roll on Esplanade Avenue.

Rather than wait until Day 17 of no new installments, let us soldier on together without the usual bells and whistles that illustrations bring to the table---

Why hasn't the blog been updated for 16 days?  It's because of an unfortunate turn of events that may or may not be circumstantial and accidental.  You see, your humble narrator has been in two minor motor scooter accidents twice this past week.

The first one was on North Dorgenois Street, at the Esplanade Avenue intersection.  Don't ask me what happened.  One second, I was gently applying the breaks while approaching a stop sign.  The next second, I was on the ground with my trusty motor scooter on top of me and abrasions on my left foot, right 1st finger knuckle, and blood running out of my left elbow.  Frau Schmitt took me to the urgent care clinic on N. Carrollton Avenue where I got 5 stitches in my elbow.  Said the doctor, "I can see the bone.  I'm going to put some stitches there."  He didn't say which bone.  It didn't feel like my funny bone.

The very next day, on the same scooter (remember, I just called it trusty), I was following Frau Schmitt on Ursulines Avenue three blocks upriver from Esplanade Avenue.  I went over a bump in the road that I go over every day.  The handlebars started to shake until they shook out of control and down I went.  It wasn't a straight shot, either.  The road took a bit of my skin from me as I slid under the scoot.  New abrasions: left thigh and right forearm.  Another trip to the very same urgent care clinic.  They weren't expecting to see me again so soon.  No new stitches, though.  We all yukked it up as the doctor dressed my fresh wounds.

My limbs are wrapped with bandages and I walk with a limp.  I bear it all with dignity, as one might expect.

I'm convinced my trusty motor scooter has been jinxed.  If you think like me, I guess that means we're both right.

I went to where my scooter is usually parked next to our house and I found a very interesting piece of evidence that my hunch is correct.  In the alleyway between the orange house (2216 Esplanade Avenue, La Belle Esplanade) and the blue house (2212 Esplanade Avenue, the home of our esteemed neighbor) I found a dried chicken foot that had been painted black.  I sincerely doubt a chicken just accidentally dropped its black-painted foot right where I park my scooter.  I think it was planted with malevolent intent.  I suspect voodoo---of the worst kind.

I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking "Who would jinx our humble narrator with a black chicken foot?"  I have to admit, I have no idea.  Believe me when I tell you, I've given this matter a lot of thought.  Like Boston Blackie, I am the enemy only of those who make me an enemy and I am a friend to those who have no friends. I'm quite a guy.



I don't have any enemies that I know of in New Orleans.  I asked Frau Schmitt if she could think of anyone who would want to lay a jinx down on my scooter.  "Everybody likes you," she said.  "I can't imagine anyone wishing something bad would happen to you."  Frau Schmitt is usually right about these things.

The proof was there in the alleyway, though, a dried out chicken claw painted black.  How long it had been there, I can't say.  It wasn't there last Monday.  I know that because I had dropped a shiny penny in that very same spot on Monday and I didn't see the chicken foot when I stooped to pick up the penny, which was heads-up, naturally.

The nearest I can figure, maybe the jinx was meant for my evil doppleganger, Whettam Gnik, but the last time I saw him he was frozen in an Antarctic ice floe.  That's a story for another day, however.  We don't have space for it here.  Maybe he escaped his icy prison somehow.  Maybe he escaped alive.



Whettam Gnik never had any friends that I know of, except for myself, his good twin.  Remember, I am the friend of those who have no friends.  Whettam Gnik always was a handsome man.  It is not inconceivable that I was mistaken for my doppleganger and someone put a jinx on me in a case of false identification.  These things happen.

I hope that's the case.

If my supposed enemy reads this blog, please be aware that the author, Matthew King, a respected New Orleans innkeeper, and a pillar of civil society, is not Whettam Gnik, that scoundrel who cheated you out of your inheritance twenty years ago by marrying your widowed mother and hiring a crooked lawyer and throwing you off a bridge.  That was him, not me.  You've jinxed the wrong man's scooter.

Anyhow, I'm on the mend now and regular updates should resume their usual schedule of two to three times a week.  Thank you to our regular readers who have been inundating us with email missives worrying about my whereabouts.  Thanks, as always, to Frau Schmitt, the better half of this operation, for acting as my nurse while keeping everything running smoothly at our boutique New Orleans inn located at 2216 Esplanade Avenue.  Good memories are made on our street.

Tune in next time when I will hopefully be able to provide some pictures to accompany the usual scintillating text.  I've got a rough draft of the next installment which is about a bar that you've only seen in dreams.  It's a historic New Orleans bar located in a place where you might least expect it.  You never know what you'll find when you turn a corner in New Orleans.  You may find yourself flat on your back with a motor scooter on top of you!  Actually, you won't.  If you're just visiting, you'll more likely be getting around on foot, or by bus, or by Uber.

Until next time,
À votre santé,
La Belle Esplanade
...where every morning is a curated breakfast salon.

Small Town New Orleans

Two New Orleanians

New Orleans is a big city.  It's big in the sense that wherever you go anywhere in the world, if you tell people you're from New Orleans they know where you mean.  It's a city that is world famous.  It's the birthplace of jazz, after all.  

When we talk to people over a breakfast of buttermilk drops from the Buttermilk Drop Bakery and sausage from Terranova's, our guests often say that there is no place in the world like New Orleans.  The city is unique in the whole wide world.

I think that's true.  Frau Schmitt agrees with me and she's usually right about these things.  Of course, every place is unique.  Like fingerprints and personal histories, every city has its own feel.  Every city has its own story.  New Orleans doesn't feel like anywhere else.  As to the history of New Orleans, it's a complicated doozy of a tale.  If you have the time to listen, I'll try to disentangle it for you.  It's so convoluted it can make you woozy.  Just soak it in.  You'll be a changed person when all is said and done.

A bicycle tour passes in front of our house

About 360,000 people live in New Orleans.  We're still missing about a fifth of our pre-Katrina population.  Even though it's a big city, relatively speaking, it's like a small town.  Spend enough time here and you'll find yourself running into people you know.  Most of them are friends.  The ones who aren't friends, just aren't your friends yet.  They'll be friends the next time you bump into them.

Bicycle tours stop in front of our house all the time.  We live on a picturesque and historic street that is interesting to tourists (our street has a dedicated bike lane) and our orange house with the blue shutters tends to attract attention from shutterbugs.  

I like to sit out on the front porch to smoke a cigar and read the newspaper, so I get to hear a lot of what the tour guides tell their tourists.  I think it's alright to call people taking a tour a tourist.  I hear a lot of tour guide palaver and patter while I sit on my front porch and I'd like to tell you which bicycle tour I think is the best.  Ready?

Here's that picture again

It's Crescent City Bike Tours.  I know I've mentioned them before on this blog but good things bear repeating.  Kristine and Richie really do a world class job showing off the world class city those of us who live here call home.  

I happen to know Kristine.  After all, she passes by our house almost every day.  When our guests want to take a bike tour of the city, I refer them to Crescent City Bike Tours.  I don't do this because I keep bumping into Kristine's tours when I'm walking our dog around the neighborhood.  I do it because I listen to what she tells people.  It's the real deal.  New Orleans is a place full of stories, some of them true, some somewhat less so.  There really  isn't any need to make anything up.  The city is a magical granny knot of history.  Kristine, who was born and raised here, who's family has deep and famous roots, will tell you the truth.

When you're visiting New Orleans, think about taking a bike tour.  If you're thinking about taking a bike tour, let me provide this link again.  There are plenty of bike tour companies in the city.  I've heard them all.  Go with best.  Let somebody else take the rest.

Frau Schmitt doesn't know Kristine on a first name basis, only by sight from across the street.  I asked her who she thinks offers the best bike tour in New Orleans.  She told me, "That lady with the short black hair who always dings her bell and waves to you."  Frau Schmitt is usually right about these things.  You just heard it from a reliable source.  

À votre santé,
La Belle Esplanade bed and breakfast.

Back door at the New Orleans Healing Center

We were all over town yesterday, for some reason.  Frau Schmitt wanted to get something healthy at the health food store while your humble narrator had business at the botanica.  We had a cup at coffee at Fatoush without leaving the New Orleans Healing Center Building on St. Claude Avenue.  On the way out, we noticed that the other buildings on the block are being painted the same bright colors.

We were on Magazine Street, later.  

The facade of La Boulangerie

They make a delicious loaf shaped like a pretzel and studded with olives.  They call it something fancy that I can't be bothered to remember, but I think we should serve it for breakfast.  It really is delicious.

Gone but not forgotten

The current owners saved the ghost sign on the side of the former Ruth's Cozy Corner on the corner of Ursulines and North Robertson.

The corner of Ursulines and North Robertson.

I was wandering around Treme thinking about what is interesting about this part of the city.  I find our neighborhood endlessly fascinating.  I am trying to work up a bicycle tour of Bayou Road, so I was doing all this wandering around on the clock.  

I noticed that there are a lot of colorful houses along Esplanade Ridge.  

The chair caught my eye

One block up from Claiborne

Ooo-la-la!

Ours is a beautiful part of New Orleans to live in.  It is also a fascinating part to visit.

A votre santé,
La Belle Esplanade bed and breakfast.

Broadmoor Lives!

A hotel in New Orleans

You could always stay at the Lucky Inn Hotel.  It's just off North Broad Street, on Iberville.  It is a very colorful place done up with with an oriental motif.  I was passing by the other day when it caught my eye.

The door to the lobby

I parked my motor scooter on the corner of Iberville and North Dorgenois Streets and I walked into the Lucky Inn's parking lot to get take an admiring snapshot.  

As soon as the shutter had clicked, a lady's voice came over a loudspeaker.  "Get out.  Get out.  I'll call the police."  I looked in the sky, confused, trying to locate its source.  I didn't see anything amiss.  "Get out, I tell you," the voice said.  "I mean it."  

I was about to put my hands on my hips as I tried to figure out what was going on, then I realized she might think I was reaching for my six-shooters.  I opted to fold my arms and cup my chin.  It occurred to me that she meant me, and that she meant it.  

After that, I continued up North Broad Street past where it becomes South Broad Street.  I circled around the Melpomene Pump Station and I parked on the corner at Martin Luther King, Jr. Boulevard.  

Meyer's Auto Parts

There has been a lot of activity in Broadmoor recently.  It is pretty obvious that Broadmoor lives, as the slogan puts it.  Soon enough, someone will put out a brochure about Broadmoor.  The intersection of Washington Avenue, North Broad and Toledano Streets, and Louisiana Avenue could start to resemble parts of  Freret Street.  I don't know if that is anyone's plan.

Next to Meyer's Auto Parts is a shop that I'm fond of because we share a last name.

Hub Cap King

When our guests borrow our complimentary bicycles, I sometimes recommend they take Jefferson Davis Highway to Washington Avenue so they can take advantage of Jeff Davis' neutral ground and its statues, and see the Blue Plate Building.  Then, I tell them to take Washington Avenue.  It is shady on Washington.  People tell me they enjoy the ride and they will never forget it.  Just make sure you bear downtown at the apex of The Hoffman Triangle.  Otherwise, you'll be on Toledano Street, and that won't be as pleasant a ride.

One Way sign in New Orleans

I just put my hand in my pocket, and I remembered that I forgot to tell you about something else that happened to me on the corner of North Dorgenois and Iberville Streets, diagonally across from the Lucky Inn Hotel.  I found a shiny penny, heads up.

A votre sante,
La Belle Esplanade bed and breakfast.