Travel: New Orleans - The pace of life in New Orleans is more of a pulsating rhythm

By Lindsay Johns

The pace of life in New Orleans is more of a pulsating rhythm. The city is food and drink for the soul.
Nawlins, as the locals say in their languid, warm Southern drawl, is a city dedicated to the rhythms of joy and to the pulse of life's intricate melodies. It is a city that engages all the senses. Arriving in the afternoon, I stroll along Canal Street, the city's main thoroughfare, on to Bourbon Street, the pulsating major artery of the French Quarter – and the historic core of the city. By day, it's delightful to meander amid charming colonial architecture, markets, bookshops and galleries.
 
The nocturnal buzz of Bourbon Street is more of an acquired taste. Live music gushes from every bar. Glaring neon signs advertising the local Abita beer and dangerous-looking daiquiris seduce unsuspecting passers-by. Needing some sustenance to ward off temptation, I head to Tujague's, one of New Orleans' oldest restaurants, dating from 1856 and specialising in Creole and Cajun cuisine. In quaint, atmospheric surroundings, I do justice to an excellent shrimp remoulade, quaff the seafood gumbo with gusto and duly demolish the famous crayfish linguini.

Sated, I stroll back along Bourbon Street and look in at Preservation Hall, a jazz institution where old-time, sharp-suited cats blow vociferously on their instruments as if their very life depended on it. Next morning, I decide to start the day in traditional Big Easy style with a full Southern cholesterol-fest at Mother's, a New Orleans gastronomic institution. Opting for its signature dish, a Po' Boy (a ham, beef and gravy sandwich), accompanied by eggs, grits, orange juice and coffee, I feast on a portion sufficient for three.
In search of art and culture, I start with a quick visit to St Louis' Cathedral in Jackson Square, then head next door to the excellent Louisiana State Museum, which helps to set the Crescent City (so named as it follows the curve of the Mississippi river) in its historical context. Under French colonial rule from 1699, Louisiana was ceded to the Spanish in 1763, who governed until Napoleon reclaimed it in 1803 and promptly sold it to the US for 15 million.

From here it is a short stroll to the manicured lawns of Louis Armstrong Park, named after the man, as the inscription on the base of his colossal statue says, "whose trumpet brought dulcet joy to the world and embodied jazz as the very pulse of life". En route, I pass Congo Square, which by 1803 had become famous for its gatherings of enslaved Africans who drummed, danced and sang on Sunday afternoons. It was these vibrant African cultural expressions that gradually morphed into today's world-famous Mardi Gras.

Time now to commune with ol' man river, as the Mississippi is affectionately known in these parts. The free ferry across to Algiers is the conduit to another quaint district but, more importantly, gives me the chance to reflect on the city's profound relationship with water, as its historical significance as a major port for cotton, tobacco and sugar is plain to see. Next day, the three-hour Katrina bus tour, encompassing the 9th ward devastated by the eponymous hurricane, is de rigueur for anyone who watched the events of August 2005 with sadness and pity. As the tour guide, himself a 9th ward resident, delivers a moving personal testimony, I am left focusing on the resilience of its remarkable people.

My final night in the Big Easy, and I can't leave town without paying a visit to Snug Harbor, the city's premier jazz spot, where the septuagenarian patriarch of New Orleans jazz, Ellis Marsalis, tinkles the ivories accompanied by virtuoso clarinetist Dr Michael White. As they play the jazz funeral classic Just a Little While to Stay Here, a tear comes to my eye – the music perfectly sums up the city's irrepressible joie de vivre. It's now 3am and I'm sitting outside the famous Cafe du Monde on Decatur Street, munching on crispy beignets and sipping an exquisite, chicory-flavoured café au lait.

Nawlins is a sensuous hymn to life as it ought to be lived – with gaiety, abandon and a commitment to the pursuit of happiness. So if you love life, don't sleep in New Orleans, baby
http://living.scotsman.com/features/Travel-New-Orleans-.5926516.jp