If you want to plan ahead, just key in “New Orleans Ghost Tours” and choose what you see as the best.
Tired from all the sight-seeing? Take the carriage tour!
I couldn’t begin to introduce all the stories you’ll discover. This is New Orleans. A few cities do claim to be the most haunted. I promise you, New Orleans deserves to be in the top running!
Pirates, yes...
Back to pirates!
But for now...
You’re walking down the street. It’s very late at night and you’re far from the revelry of Bourbon Street. Before you, you see a woman in white and she is running, running down the street...you turn! A phantom carriage is racing toward the river carrying Madame and Doctor as they try to escape...
You run by Jackson Square. And it’s all cool again because gentle Pere Antoine is just leaving the Cathedral, reading his prayer book with his rosary in his hands, and he will comfort you!
Day Twenty-Four - Bars, Booze and Broads - Bourbon Street
Okay, let’s face it. NOLA is known for Bourbon Street and for “laissez les bon temps rouler,” or “let the good times roll!” While incredible, interesting, and historic bars can be found all over New Orleans, many a once innocent soul has spent the night just on and around famous—and infamous—Bourbon Street.
People come from near and far for bachelor parties, birthday parties—especially that major leap of 21—and every other kind of party you can possible think of. I mean, that is, when New Orleans isn’t having a party to which the world is invited, and the city itself has all kinds of parties—remember Jazz Fest, French Quarter Fest, Mardi Gras, etc.
It’s where folks come to let loose and hang out and drop in on a bar or two. Or three or…
Well, you get the drift.
But, you can have it your way, too. One of my most charming friends I’ve made in NOLA, an entertainer on Bourbon Street, has also been a member of AA for years and years—and he still has fun. So, try out some of NOLA’s cocktails, or watch the slightly inebriated while sober yourself, which, of course, can be just as much fun. It’s not always what you choose to drink but where you choose to go to drink— whatever it is that you’ll drink—which is the fun.
Getting down and dirty.
From the minute you start down Bourbon—say you’re strolling from Canal Street to Esplanade (toward Esplanade, you’ll start to find something of a residential section) you’ll see all manner of establishments vying for your tourist dollar. As you walk you come across establishment after establishment, bars and strip clubs. The beautiful hotel Royal Sonesta is at 300 Bourbon, and of course, it offers a bar, too. You’ll move on down and there will be a bar, and there will be a strip club—and then there will sometimes be people in the middle of the street warning you with big signs that say “Repent! Lest you go to hell,” or “God hates gays.” While I must admit it’s not like you’re preaching to the crowd here, I’m dying one day to go up to one of the redeeming souls and tell them that I’ve just spoken to God and God says that gays are just fine—He’s not sure about people in the middle of a street telling others how to live.
Those holding the signs are often in front of a well-known strip club.
One day...
Ah, wherever you go, you’ll hear music.
And it’s getting nice and varied again!
Right after the summer of storms, you could hear different lines of the same Journey song coming from many bars—they needed to try for what they thought was most commercial. Now, you’ll hear pop, rock, jazz, and blues. It’s all back.
A number of people will suggest that you see Pat O’Brien’s. I concur. The place has a great history. Pat O’Brien was running a speakeasy. When prohibition was lifted in the thirties, he went legitimate. So, Pat O’Brien’s has been serving legitimately since 1933. Many people go to Pat O’Brien’s to try out their famous Hurricane. We do prefer the drink to the storm. But there’s more to Pat O’Brien’s. They provide wonderful entertainment. My favorite part of Pat O’Brien’s is the courtyard. It is brick; it has scattered tables—it takes you off the craziness of Bourbon Street into a little sanctuary of craziness. It has a lovely fountain. If the temperature drops there are heaters.
The entrance is actually at 718 St. Peter Street, but you walk down Bourbon and turn the corner and you’re there, but I love the bar so we’re counting it in.
Booze and broads. You’ll find them every few feet and I’m not going to try to list them all; you’ll want to go where a sign attracts you and decide if you’re favorite piece of a wild night or not. But, I’ll throw in a few!
Want to ride a mechanical bull? That’s at Bourbon Cowboy. (241 Bourbon) What fun watching as others try to stay on—and what a contest if you’re up to it! What to sing karaoke? That’s down at the Cat’s Meow. (701 Bourbon Street) The Cat’s Meow is on the corner of St. Peter Street so you can easily hop from Pat O’Brien’s on over or vice-versa. They start nice and early—around five. There’s one karaoke song and a host song and a karaoke song and a host song...that gives the place time to make sure the next performer is on hand—and that he or she hasn’t wandered off down the street.
Are you a beer lover? There’s Beer Fest at 409 Bourbon.
Bourbon Pub, Bourbon Oh!, Bourbon Street Blues Company. There is absolutely no way for you to walk down Bourbon and not find a pub that intrigues, a band that draws you in for the street—or a solicitor on the walk offering you a two-for-one deal that you can’t refuse.
Strip Clubs? Oh, there are plenty. Rick’s Cabaret, Larry Flynt’s Hustler’s Club, Penthouse, Barely Legal...the list goes on.
Burlesque? Stop by the see a show by the legendary Chris Owens at 500 Bourbon. Chris started her club in the 1960s and as I write this, she’s still going strong. Customers rave about the great time they’ve had there.
Tropical Isle often offers a rock band I love. You’ll find it at Bourbon and Orleans or 721 Bourbon. They’re also the home of the “Hand Grenade.” Amazing how we love to come home with funny-shaped drinking vessels that we can refill. The same owners offer up the Funky Pirate—get your hand grenade there, too.
So thirsty you can’t stand it? Entrepreneurs have ice-filled beer, etc., carts out in the street often enough, especially at really busy times. No one wants you to have to wait!
A bit off Bourbon at 811 Conti is Erin Rose. Friends and I have met there many times. They offer excellent Irish beers and whiskey and more of course, have a nice and friendly staff, and it’s a place many of the locals head. They also have a little menu of food to go with your drinks.
Remember, too, Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop and Bar is on Bourbon at 941. Throw a little history in with your bar-hopping.
You really can’t go by what I say. You have to explore.
Everyone will have their favorite place to visit on Bourbon—or close off! Whether you’re a drinker or a teetotaler, gay or straight, male or female, any visitor should take at least one stroll down Bourbon.
And then, of course, some shudder at the thought of going near it.
But that’s something you have to decide for yourself.
It’s like an experience badge.
Ah, yes! I’ve walked down Bourbon Street…
Day Twenty-Five - Vampires!
It’s late at night, darkness has fallen, and an unwary woman walks cobblestone streets. A streetlight flickers...she looks back in fear. Shadows race eerily in the night; there’s a strange sound of movement on the wind.
And then the vampire strikes…
Or, perhaps, he’s just a handsome, rakish, and devilish sort of rogue, and he’s said and done all the right things in a bar and the young woman is his willing victim.
Not that vampires practice sexual discrimination in any way. Good blood is good blood.
New Orleans is, of course, a city rich in vampire lore, thanks to premier vampire-writer of today, the lovely and talented Anne Rice.
But before Anne Rice, even before Bram Stoker
and Dracula, vampire tales and legends were known around the world. In every country those legends are a bit different. Often what people believed can now be explained by science.
Perhaps New Orleans, a city with such a mixed, colorful, and even violent history, it might just be natural that legends take root and with a bit of a mix from fact and fiction.
The actual “history” of the vampire stretches way back beyond Bram Stoker’s Dracula; some believe that our modern concept may have had roots in ancient Egypt when a blood-drinking demon was evoked. Others think of the lamia of the still-ancient world, a crone or a witch who came in the night to drink the blood of babies.
Perhaps another concept of vampirism might have come from the infamous Countess Bathory—though she didn’t drink blood, she bathed in it.
Our strongest modern connection, however, probably does come from Vlad Tepes, Dracula, or “Son of the Dragon.” Vlad Tepes was—we know through historical records—a brutal ruler who set his enemies on stakes to die slowly and in excruciating pain. But, then again, he was born in the midst of a violent world. We all have different ways of looking at things. To some, he was a blood-thirsty Dracula. To others, he was a national hero who led his people to victories unknown before his reign.
During the late Dark Ages and Medieval eras, superstition ruled the world. It was easy to imagine that bad things happened because of witchcraft—and that the dead walked because the evil of Satan had somehow permeated their mortal flesh. In Europe, plague and disease swept whole communities. People died of tuberculosis, spitting blood.
And, of course, they were buried prematurely. So often that by Victorian times, coffins offered a window for the face—and many were buried with coffin “alarms,” ropes within the coffin to ring a bell should they find that they awoke—six feet under and staring at a wall of dirt.
European fears and superstitions travelled to the New World from Europe and we, too, feared death and the coming of the vampire. Mercy Brown was one of the best-documented incidents in the United States having to do with the exhumation and destruction of a corpse to prevent vampirism. Poor Mercy died in 1892. Her mother had died in 1888, then her oldest sister two years later, and then her brother, Edwin, sickened.
But poor Mercy died next. Neighbors were terrified—one of the family members buried had to be a vampire—rising from the dead to kill and kill again. There were rumors that the Brown family members could be seen walking late at night in the mists that fell upon Rhode Island.
The family members were exhumed. The others had decayed. Mercy looked as if she had just lain down for a nap. There was blood in her heart.
The family had wasted away from “consumption” or tuberculosis, but little was known about the disease at the time and nothing could be done to stop it. Mercy had been buried in frigidly cold ground. That wasn’t really given much thought. She had her heart cut out and burned. The ashes were mixed with water; Edwin drank them. No good—Edwin died two years later.
The custom of “sitting up with the dead” became very popular and remains popular. Sitting up with the dead for twenty-four hours means that someone can watch over the corpse—and make sure that it’s showing no signs of coming back to life. This is still practiced fairly frequently in NOLA—out of respect, really, more so than a fear of the dead coming back to life. It’s a nice custom, even if it did begin strangely. All over the world, we “wake” our dead. Fear? Or tender care?
Frankly, I have friends in New Orleans who are vampires. Not blood-drinking vampires, though cults of blood-drinkers do exist in NOLA—as well as elsewhere around the world. Most of the time, these are cults of consenting adults who draw each other’s blood or arranged to have blood drawn and then share the drinking.
My friends tend to be “spiritual” vampires; they “drink” energy and force from the air, try to drink in negative energy around them and change it into something better. Can this truly be a talent? I don’t know. I know they’re nice people.
“Porphyria” is a real disease that some suffer from. They constantly need transfusions. Therefore, those suffering must “drink in” the blood of others.
Now, of course, there are those who think they are vampires—or kill as if they were vampires. The “Axman” murders that befell New Orleans from May of 1918 to October of 1919. Nine people were brutally killed, and there were rumors that the Axman—who killed people with an axe—was a vampire, seeking their blood. There’s another story you’ll hear that people have a difficult time verifying and the story changes depending on when you hear it. In 1984, around the city, nine bodies were found with their throats ripped out and almost no blood at all found at the scene of each murder.
Two young women were killed in a like manner in 1978. Throats ripped up, bodies almost bloodless, the scenes of the crimes almost bloodless as well.
What has really happened in New Orleans as far as vampires go?
Whether you’re a believer, a person with a scientific mind who likes to put the pieces together, or simply one for a good tale or two, I suggest the vampire tour in NOLA. The past and the present collide; you get to hear tales of possible vampirism, possible mental illness—and the literary world!
NOLA has a feel, just like the fantastic faded elegance of her past. It’s poignant and nostalgic, and the old and new beneath the moon just might make you a believer.
I am a fan of Haunted History Tours in NOLA and if you want to venture on a great walking tour that gives you voodoo along with a bit of the ghostly—and the ghastly!—venture out on their Vampire Tour!
And it’s NOLA. You can stop for a bloody Mary somewhere along the way...
Day Twenty-Six - Sometimes You've Just Got to Sleep
And you can find some wonderful places to do so...
Writers for New Orleans naturally takes place at one of my favorite places to stay, but that comes up last, so for now, I’ll mention a few other places that are great—all depending on what you’re looking for!
Remember, it would be almost as impossible to list all the wonderful bed and breakfast establishments and hotels that can be found in New Orleans as it would be to tell about all the bars.
People come and stay in many different places—and fall in love with different places for different reasons. I’ll just talk about a few—you may have already discovered a few gems on your own that I know nothing about.
Maybe I’m a romantic at heart because my favorite actual B and B hotel is found easily in a well-travelled section of the French Quarter, at 915 Royal Street.
It’s certainly one of the prettiest bed and breakfast hotels in the French Quarter and it’s called the Cornstalk. I think I fell in love with it when I was five and first saw it, walking hand in hand with my dad.
The home was actually built for Judge Francois Xavier Martin, who happened to be the author of the first History of Louisiana. He was also Chief Justice of the Louisiana Supreme Court. There had been homes on the exact spot before but the city had been ravaged by major fires and it was during the early years of the 1800s that Judge Martin had the house constructed. He then lived there from 1816 to 1826.
He was the one who had the house built—but it was Dr. Joseph Secondo Biamenti who had the famous cast iron fence constructed and the reasoning comes with a beautiful and romantic story. Joseph loved his wife; his wife was from Iowa. Joseph didn’t want her to be homesick for the waves of corn that grew in her native state and so he had the fence constructed in 1856.
They say that it was at the Cornstalk that Harriet Beecher Stowe came to stay—and she was supposedly moved to write “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” because of that stay when she saw the nearby slave markets.
Politicians, movie stars, and other celebrities have stayed here, entranced by the beauty of the place.
The rooms are spacious.
The hospitality is wonderful. If you do stay, I can guarantee that people will watch you when you return to your home away from home, a little envious that you’re going through the
gate and into the house!
Right next door to the Cornstalk, you’ll find the Andrew Jackson Hotel. I haven’t actually stayed here; friends have. It’s historic, of course—on this site, Andrew Jackson, hero of the Battle of New Orleans, was indicted for contempt and a few other charges. Jackson, being Jackson, dealt with the situation. The hotel is small and the rooms can be on the small side—it’s a great place for someone who wants some history and a location that’s right on Royal and just a block off Bourbon—very near Pat O’Brien’s, Lafitte’s, and more magical wonders of Bourbon Street. It’s also a short hop over to Jackson Square. Definitely a plus for those who don’t want to wallow in their room and would be happy with a nice bed in the midst of a lot of action.
I’ll mention two French Quarter biggies right now; the Omni Royal Orleans and the Royal Sonesta. I’ve stayed at both and enjoyed the service and ambiance of both. The Royal Sonesta enjoyed a major overhaul after the summer of storms—it’s where to be if you really want in on the action. It’s right at 300 Bourbon Street. Sometimes, if you’re a light sleeper, they’re not the perfect place to be if you’re tired and fond of sleep before the wee hours—depending on room location. Around festivals, they can demand—and get—some pretty steep room rates. They offer lovely rooms, a nice pool area, and many big-hotel pluses. The Omni has wonderful ghosts to delight you—elegant stairways, gorgeous ballrooms. I spent a New Year’s Eve there once that was absolutely delightful. My little nephew was there so we went for the entertainment and music and then family celebration up in the room. A two-year-old in New Orleans for New Years, you say? Yes. Jugglers, clowns, musicians, improve on the square, human statues...and then, at the Omni, we watched a side street from a balcony and tossed beads to partiers as they headed in for the night. The rooms aren’t cookie-cutter; many are very different so you might ask about the room you’re renting. A friend and I switched places; she wanted the massive bed up on a little platform while I loved my two-story with a little loft. The entrance is 621 St Louis Street, but you can exit through the bar and Rib Room Restaurant and be on Bourbon. It’s one of my favorite spots and if you don’t stay, you may find yourself here on a ghost tour anyway.
Why I Love New Orleans Page 9