I think Instagram posts are going to become a regular post-trip fixture around these parts, gang. I just really love Instagram (even though right now it keeps crashing on my Samsung Galaxy Ace and pissing the shit out of me, but I mostly blame this terribly phone for that).
Behind the counter at Clover Grill, a 24hr diner on Bourbon Street. Their tagline is “Because food simply tastes better after midnight” which is something I wholeheartedly agree with.
Oh ho ho, yes, that little strumpet is a vegetarian po boy. When I get around to posting the Ba Chi Canteen food porn pics, your taste buds will blue ball so hard you’ll have to eat something delicious in a frenzy of gastronomic masturbation. This is a sweet chilli tofu po boy – a vegetarian po boy! I can’t believe it’s taken me three vegetarian New Orleans trips to discover a place that slings a decent vegetarian po boy.
Oak Alley Plantation – as seen on Interview with the Vampire, one of my favourite films set in New Orleans. I feel like I need to apologise to Nisha for the filter I used here because I didn’t notice it made her look a bit jaundiced. You are a beautiful dandelion, Nisha.
Awesome neon on Bourbon Street. According to the internet, “gumbo ya ya” means “everyone talking at once”, but I always thought it was a Cajun term for gossip or folk stories. Anyone know the true meaning and care to share?
The wrought iron balconies are awesome. I believe this is an example of the Spanish-style ironwork dotted throughout the city, but I may well be wrong because I was never without a drink in my hand.
This lil dude hung out with us on Nisha’s porch for a couple of hours before Napoleon, Nisha’s dog as opposed to the dead military leader, almost trod on him. I scooped him up and held him for 20 glorious seconds before he did a tiny frightened froggy wiggle and I had to let him go. I am so proud of this photo. Please admire his dignified froggy face in an awed silence.
It rained on my last day in New Orleans, but between showers Nisha and I nipped into the Saint Louis No. 1 Cemetery for a mooch between the crumbling tombs.
Road trippin’ back to New Orleans from the bayou. My legs are absolutely polka dotted with mosquito bites after an ill-advised late night jaunt to the swamps. Terrible fucking idea.