Day 5 - Tuesday 31st October - Halloween!

We Will Rise Again by George Rodrigues

I woke about 8.30am but lay in for a while, then grabbed a pastry and V8 from the hotel breakfast before heading back to my room for a much needed cuppa and a write up of the meal from last night. Then I headed off back to the French Quarter to find Bayona – tonight’s restaurant. It turns out to be about 2 blocks from Brennan’s so another easy walk. En route to Bayona I visit George Rodrigues gallery, but unfortunately it is closed. A few doors up there is a gallery selling his work (out of my price league still I’m afraid). There was also work by a couple of other artists that I was very impressed with and ended up buying a print of ‘Lumus Redux’ by James Michalopoulas. I still want a copy of ‘We Will Rise Again’ by George Rodrigues. I have admired the piece since he did it, but having seen the print in real life on the wall of Restaurant August, and then the original silkscreen in the window of George’s gallery I am completely in love with it. Unfortunately, the print is $500 so a bit out of my price league at this time. On the way back I visit ‘La Petit Fleur’, a quaint jeweller's that I had seen the day before. Here I buy 3 gold charms for my bracelet – a fleur de lis; New Orleans masks and a shrimp.

Lumus Redux by James Michalopulos

I wander down to the Farmer’s market and the French market beyond. There I meet a local artist Jon Guillaume – a very talented man, his work is very intense. He is also a very nice guy and I have quite a chat with him before buying one of his signed prints called ‘Hurricane in the Quarter’. I stop for brunch at the Market Café where I have a crawfish pie and chicken & andouille gumbo with a couple of local Abita beers (turbodog). It was very tasty and was accompanied by some excellent jazz by a guy who sounded just like Louis Armstrong (even though he was white). I return to my room to drop off my purchases and then head back out towards Jackson Square.

Hurricane in the Quarter by Jon Guillaume

Louis Armstrong soundalike

I stop at Tower records, which is closing down – I am hoping to get the limited edition version of Black Parade. They didn’t have it, but they did have a Gary Numan set that I don’t have (amazing I know) and so I bought that – 3cd box set of Hybrid + remixes for $15 … bargain! I also had quite a long chat with the shop assistant about GN. Seems he’s got quite a big following in New Orleans. I guess Trent Reznor really helped to build his profile over there. I then walked round Jackson Square. Unfortunately, the perfume shop that had the lovely Bourbon Vanilla perfume is no longer there, in fact most of the shops I remember from my last visit seem to have gone.

crawfish pie, gumbo, beer and crystal hot sauce - a New Orleans feast!

I had decided that I was going to visit one of the fortune tellers. I haven’t had a reading for a few years so was interested to see if anything has improved. I had intended to walk round the whole square before deciding who to visit, but instead stopped at the first teller – so I guess she must have been the right one for me. It was an interesting reading. Like most readings not all of it made sense, but there was loads that did. She asked me no personal details except one thing, was I single or in a relationship. Examining my hands, she then asked me to pick 5 cards from the tarot deck. Finally I would then choose 1 that would represent me. She then used a crystal to draw the energy from my hand and cards to make the reading. She told me that I had a very strong aura and that angels are drawn to me (yeah, right …whatever!). I have several aides who watch over me (this I already knew as I have been told this many times). One especially close is a relative who died of cancer a few years ago, probably a grandmother. She said both my parents were alive and well and that I have a sister, who I am not as close to as I’d like. She told me I had been through some very rough times, and that I had more to go, but that things would soon be getting much better for me. I have a very long lifeline and deserve to have a long life for all the trouble I have had, both in this life and in the 3 I have lived previously. Then she said she needed to check my comment about being single as it didn’t make sense with what she was seeing. She asked if I was seeing anyone, even just as a friend. I said yes and she explained that although we are just friends at the moment she can see it possibly being more in the future, although it will take a lot of time to develop. She said I had been very badly hurt twice before and find it almost impossible to open up to love, but that he would help me open up to love again, which would mean that when my true love arrives (apparently a man with a broken heart, which I will help to mend) I will be ready to love unconditionally again. She also told me she could see money coming my way soon. Not sure how or where it’s coming from but she reckons it will be a considerable amount (perhaps I’m going to win the lottery). I was then told that I work too hard and should cut down, but she was aware that I found it difficult to stop and that it was part of my nature in the same way that helping people was. Unfortunately, she then said that someone who used to be in my life would be coming back into it. The person who hurt me more than any other, who left me for someone else and left me unable to love (yep she really did say it like that) is coming back and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. (Strange this, as the last 3 readings I’ve had have all told me the same thing). She finished by reiterating that generally things would get better for me and I had lots of angels looking out for me, which is a good thing as she also told me there are several people currently in my life who want bad things for me, although they pretend to be my friend to my face. She says I need to work out who these people are and cut them out of my life. Not really sure what I felt afterwards, a bit overwhelmed by information I guess, but she had told me so many things she shouldn’t have known it was hard to dismiss it all completely.

trick or treaters

Walking back to the hotel, I saw loads of people in fancy dress. I wish I was dressing up too, but it’s not the same being on my own. I want to visit the Haunted House on Bourbon Street, but I think that’s going to be packed tonight!

Bayona's menu

My visit to Bayona is disappointingly short and I’m back at the hotel by just after 10pm which included a stop at Wendy’s for milk and a convenience store for coke (I’m not exactly being a rock and roll chick on this holiday, am I?). It was another interesting meal and a bit of an eye opener too. Last night I was almost coerced into sitting at the bar, which was OK apart from the smoking, but it was only this evening that I realised how smoothly they’d done it. I got to Bayona at 7.50pm for an 8pm table. By this time I can hardly walk – lucky I bought those ballet pumps as I could never have walked to the restaurant in high heels. I dressed in a black skirt, with a black devore top, black marcasite jewellery and Halloween nails just for a touch of dressing up. I was immediately shown to my seat (unlike the previous night where I had waited for over 15 minutes at the bar even though the restaurant was almost empty). It was nice to be at a table in the main restaurant area, rather than out of the way or in a corner, but not so nice that it was on the main walkway, so everyone who walked past me looked at me pityingly because I was dining alone.

The service was very quick – they are friendly and attentive, but it is clear they wanted to get me out as soon as possible. My main course arrived at the same time as the couple next to me, but they already had their starters when I sat down, and I am not the fastest eater in the world. This continues with dessert and when I was sitting people watching while I finished my wine I was told several times not to hurry, but just to remind me that my bill was there to be paid. The meal cost $116 including the tip and was lovely. It was completely different from the food offered at August, but yet again tasted completely fantastic. However, I really do wish I hadn’t been there alone.

So I’m sure you want to know what I had to eat, as it was the reason for visiting the restaurant. I had a Sazerac cocktail whilst I was looking at the menu. The Sazerac was the first cocktail ever created, and it was created in New Orleans, so I felt I really ought to try it. It is made with rye whisky and Herbsaint – and to be honest tasted pretty nasty! It was a bit like Benedictine and whisky but with a bitter undertone. For my starter I chose goat’s cheese toast with mushrooms in a cream and sherry sauce. This was followed by a Neiman pork chop with rough grits and spinach and cheese. The dessert was an Appalachian apple stack with a caramel and moonshine ice cream. To go with the entrée I had ½ a bottle of Pinot Noir.

Halloween decorations

I walked back via Bourbon Street. It was really interesting to see all the crowds dressed up and enjoying Halloween. The main Halloween action was over at Frenchman’s Street, but that is outside the other end of the French Quarter and was too far (and too dangerous) for me to walk alone at night and my feet were hurting so badly by then I couldn’t have walked that far anyway. I considered briefly whether to visit Harrah’s Casino on the way back to the hotel, but to be honest I’m far too tight to waste money on slot machines, and I didn’t even fancy sitting in Ernst’s, so went back to the hotel room to listen to MCR and read my book. Once again an early night – I was in bed by 11.30pm, yes disappointing I know in such a party town.

Day 4 - Monday 30th October 2006

Decide that I really must get round to resetting the clocks as I woke an hour early again. Had a leisurely cup of tea or two and got ready for a slow stroll to Brennans. My legs are killing me – I have hardly sat down since reaching Houston – pains running up my shins and my arthritis is playing up big time in my right foot. I dress in my black trousers and grafitti shirt, hoping that this will be considered smart enough, and that I won’t overheat too much as the weather is still lovely – much warmer than anticipated, no rain (in fact not even a cloud in the sky) and quite humid too. Walking to the restaurant I bump into Wayne M Coyne (the lead singer of Flaming Lips) and his girlfriend. They both seem very friendly.

Brennan's Restuarant

Brennan’s is nice, but not quite what I expected. Sure is incredibly expensive though! I was also disappointed that almost all the other diners are in shorts and t shirts. I definitely feel overdressed for the occasion. I have the New Orleans breakfast - a mimosa to start, followed by southern baked apple with cream (nice but very sweet), eggs hussarde (lovely), hot french bread and finally banana’s foster (marvellous but yet again very sweet) with a glass of pinot grigio with the entrée. The tea is awful, they have no idea how to make a decent cup over there, and so I only have ½ a cup and then have 2 glasses of water (not bottled either) which knocks the bill up by $5. The meal took about 1 ½ hours and cost me $82 including tip. At least I can say that I’ve had some world famous dishes in their original settings and the meal left me completely stuffed – I have no idea how anyone could eat the Brennan’s breakfast which is the same as I had but with a 14oz steak and chips before the bananas foster. Unfortunately the table I was sitting at was in bright sunlight for most of the time I was there and they didn’t apparently have any other tables available.

Jackson Square

When I finished my meal I meet up with Leslie and Kim in Jackson Square. Whilst walking down through the French Quarter I am surprised and pleased to hear ‘Jagged’ by Gary Numan coming from one of the cars. Kim tells me that she has had a call from Ashley the security guard. Apparently, she has something for me from Duran Duran. I phone her to give her my address in England, but due to her accent I am unable to make out what it is she is sending me – I think it is a staff t shirt from the festival, as she had mentioned this the previous night, but Kim is convinced it’s DD stuff to make up for their behaviour the night before. Maybe, but I won’t hold my breath. Once again I am overwhelmed by people’s generosity on this trip. I have been lucky to meet so many nice and friendly people. We walk around the French Quarter, trying to find something related to voodoo that isn’t a pencil and then buy one of those commercial cocktails in Bourbon Street (I went for something blue).

Jean Lafitte's Blacksmith's Bar and Shop

By then it is time for the girls to get their taxi to the airport (only a weekend trip for them) and I leave them at their hotel, before hobbling back to my room. I only drink ½ the blue drink, freezing the rest for later, although I didn’t bother in the end as it wasn’t very nice. Having rested for a while I made my way back out to Walgreen’s to stock up on painkillers etc. En route I stop at a lovely boutique in Canal Place shopping mall and buy the cutest black ballet pumps (yep I know, I’m not supposed to wear flat shoes, especially with the way my feet are feeling at the moment, but I couldn’t resist at $28 ). By now my feet are really killing me so I head back for a cuppa and to put my feet up before going out tonight. I can’t decide what to do tomorrow – French Quarter or Magazine Street.

Italian Plaza (almost directly behind where I was staying and en route to Restaurant August)

At 8.30pm I leave to walk (slowly) to Restaurant August. I am dressed in black trousers and my 16-47 blue shirt, with a navy camisole underneath. I am also wearing high heels – a definite challenge considering how much pain my feet and legs are in. The meal is completely amazing – It is, without a shadow of a doubt, the best food I have ever tasted in the whole of my life. The meal is also incredibly filling - although the portions are very much nouvelle cuisine size – the intense flavours ensure that they are more than sufficient. As I was a little early I waited at the bar with a mimosa (better than Brennan’s) and eventually chose to eat there rather than in the main restaurant, not something I had originally wanted, but the other single diners were doing this and after being asked about 5 or 6 times if I was going to eat there I got the hint. However, the bar tenders and serving staff were all very friendly, courteous and knowledgeable, and I did at least get some conversation with my meal. The only downside to this was that it was the only smoking area and so everyone was nipping out for a cigarette between courses.

I chose to go for the 5 course tasting menu with wine pairing – and I wasn’t disappointed by either the food or the wine. First a lagniappe (a little something extra as New Orleanians term it) – a porcini and white truffle zabaglione served in a real white eggshell – amazing! The flavour was really intense and added an interesting flavour to the bread course. First course was a blue crab mousse wrapped in smoked salmon with caviar; shrimp, chilled cucumber and vermouth soup and shrimps and cress in a spicy sauce, accompanied by a rose cava. This was followed by the most amazing food I have ever eaten – I would return to this restaurant purely for this course alone – a white truffle filled raviola on a ragout of wild mushrooms with a truffle sauce. It tasted like nothing on earth I have ever had before. I thought I had died and gone to heaven (well I am a mushroom lover so this was my ideal food). It was paired with a bold and quite heavy pinot noir which was absolutely perfect for the dish. The third course was roasted sea bass. By this time I was already feeling a little full, but was determined to enjoy everything. I felt this course was a little let down by the ham in the sauce. It was very strong flavoured and rather overwhelmed the fish, but there was yet another fantastic mushroom sauce. This was paired with another pinot noir, not quite as bold as the previous one, but still and excellent choice for the dish. Out comes course four and this was quite a large plate – wild boar cooked two ways, with sweetbreads and roasted tomatoes in a vegetable sauce. It was gorgeous, but I was so full up I really had to force myself to eat it, and didn’t enjoy it anywhere near as much as the dish deserved. Another bold red wine with this, although I can’t remember what now, but yet again the perfect accompaniment. Finally, came the dessert - creole cream cheese panna cotta between white chocolate biscotti with a berry compote. This came with a very sweet Hungarian dessert wine called Tokaj. The wine was vile on its own but the perfect offset for the dessert. By this time I was really struggling, but I did manage to get through about 1/2 of it. All this cost me a very reasonable $126 with tip - definitely much better value than Brennan's). Note to self – no more tasting menus!

I then took a very slow walk back to my hotel and read for an hour or so, as I had to wait for the food to digest a little before going to bed. Still feeling shattered so I decided not to set an alarm – I’ll sleep as long as I need to.

Restaurant August

Day 3 - Voodoofest Day 2

Dead by My Chemical Romance

I wake at 8.30am and have a lie in till 9am. I decided that I am going to have the breakfast provided by the hotel. So I shower and go outside but no sign of anyone or anything. My jeans and sandals are covered in mud from wandering round City Park the previous day but unfortunately there is no clothes brush and the hotel doesn’t have one so I will have to clean them later. I suddenly realised that maybe the clocks have gone back in the US as well as at home (which is the case). I decided to have a wander as the weather is lovely and warm again and see if I can find any of the restaurants I’ll be eating at. I found Restarant August, which turned out to be a few blocks from my hotel, and then Brennan’s. I bumped into Leslie and Kim a few times and agreed to meet them backstage at Voodoofest when My Chemical Romance were on. I stop for brunch at Café Beignet and have a tea (bloody awful) and a Bourbon Street croissant which contained tuna, cheese, bacon & salad. It was nice except the service was terrible. It took almost an hour for the sandwich to arrive.

The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance

Rio by Duran Duran

I finally got to Voodoofest just shortly before MCR were due onstage. And then the worst possible thing happens. I am refused admittance because of my camera. Even my backstage pass doesn’t help me. It appears that they had decided arbitarily today to stop cameras although they were perfectly alright yesterday – completely mad! I try 3 different queues and none of them will let me in. Leslie suggests I try the other entrance but that is about a 3 mile walk and I can’t face it after all the walking I’ve been doing and I’ll definitely miss MCR round there as that entrance is on the other side of the park, well away from the main stage. Security suggest I might want to hide my camera behind a tree or something and pick it up later if it’s still there (and if I can remember where I put it in the dark!) I think not! So what do I do now? It is an hour round trip to the hotel and if I go now I’ll also miss them, so I sit outside the arena as close to the stage as possible (on a bench outside the botanical gardens) so I can at least hear them perform, even though I can’t see them. They sound completely brilliant – everything I had expected and more and I am completely gutted not to be able to see them. I text Mrs H3 to tell her that I have to have tickets for their concert in London (unfortunately it’s sold out). I have to admit that I did consider whether there was somewhere in the botanical gardens to hide my camera, but it wasn’t really an option as I’d taken the camera out of it’s protective case for space reasons, so I couldn’t throw it over the wall and it was just too big to fit through the railings. At the end of their set I went back to my hotel and dropped off the camera. On the way back to the shuttle I dropped in to confirm my reservation at Restaurant August for the following night. I think I panicked them a bit in my jeans, t shirt and pink flashing Stetson. However, I did assure them that I wouldn’t be wearing it for dinner.

Cancer by My Chemical Romance

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah by The Flaming Lips

Serious/Nice by Duran Duran

I got back to the festival just in time to see the end of the Flaming Lips. They were as excellent as I’d thought they’d be and loads of fun to watch. As usual the stage was full with aliens, santas and all sorts of people in various fancy dress. We watched them from the side stage podium. Kim and Leslie told me they’d got some pictures of MCR, (Kim had one of those mini cameras which she managed to smuggle in) – not the same but a nice thought anyway. I told Kim that I had bought a Blue October t shirt the day before. I promised her that I would send her a picture of me wearing it so she can pass it on to the band – after all I am their English fan (although I am sure they have many more, apparently they did do a concert over here earlier in the year).

She Don't Use Jelly by The Flaming Lips

Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran

Once again we couldn’t get onstage with Duran Duran as they had a similar banding system to RHCP’s, but did Kim and I manage to get to the front side of the stage – excellent but meant that I really only got a good view of Simon properly all the way through, although I did see John occasionally and Dominic Brown, Andy Taylor’s replacement. Unfortunately I never got to see Roger or Nick. I did get the security guard to take a picture with my camera, but not sure yet how it turned out. The set was wonderful – a real greatest hits fest and they were obviously having a great time. It was worth the trip to New Orleans just to see them!

Helena by My Chemical Romance

Notorious by Duran Duran

We leave a few minutes before the end of their set. Kim has spoken to Voodoofest security (Ashley) and found out which way they are leaving the stage and the best place for us to stand to have a chance of meeting them. We find Ashley who is chatting to David from Terra Diablo, who are a band from Glasgow that played on Saturday morning. We chat for a few minutes about Duran Duran and he wishes me luck in my quest to meet them. He tells me we are standing quite close to their vehicle so are in the best possible place. There are surprisingly few people there, maybe 8 or 10. Suddenly DD’s security staff are telling us that we all have to leave before DD come off stage. They are moving us on, when I realise DD are on their way down the ramp. I turn and realise that I am standing directly next to John Taylor, who has the biggest scowl I’ve ever seen in my life on his face. As I look round I see Simon and Nick walking together down the ramp, closely followed by Roger, all also looking incredibly grumpy and I quickly try to take a photo of them. A security guard pushes me out of the way. Not one to give up I shout out to Simon, thanking them for a great show, hoping they might stop for at least a second, maybe the English accent might interest them. Alas no, security are still pushing and within seconds they are all gone. The only one who looked happy was Dominic, who was walking along chatting to what I guess are friends or relatives – no security guards for him. Kim gets pretty verbal complaining about them which sort of ruins the evening for me. Until that point I’d been so ecstatic about seeing them, and was excited to be so close to them. But I was very disappointed with their response. It wasn’t as if there were hundreds of fans there, and it wouldn’t have killed them to stop for a few seconds for a photo. It also doesn’t gel with their onstage act – all so happy to be there and wishing they could invite everyone back to their trailer for a drink – yep Simon really did say that at one point. I was told afterwards that the RHCP’s were at least as bad, if not worse the night before, but that wasn’t really a comfort. I decided I wanted to see the MCR t shirts and went to the merchandise stall, but everything had been taken down apart from DD merchandise – not one other item belonging to any other band was available. After their shitty attitude that really annoyed me. Before the festival I had of course, been expecting to buy DD t shirts, but I refused on principle. We ended the evening watching Cowboy Mouth, a local New Orleans band who were fab, and who Leslie had chosen to watch rather than DD. It was a weird festival as everything was finished by 10pm. I can feel my legs seizing up from all the walking I’ve been doing. Hope they will be ok for the walk to Brennan’s in the morning. Finished the evening in my room with a few JD’s and was still in bed by midnight.

The House of the Rising Sun by Duran Duran

The Rest of Voodoofest - An Overview with music by Cowboy Mouth

Day 2 - Voodoofest Day 1

Red Hot Chili Peppers performing 'Under the Bridge'

Waking at 11.30am I check out the room which I hadn’t really bothered to do when I got there. It’s nice but no kettle. There’s enough coffee to wake the dead, but not a single teabag – lucky I brought my own! There is a saucepan so I can at least boil some water. I potter around while I have my tea, then go and have a shower. I find that the bath tap leaks and the towels that I had just dumped out of my suitcase over the bathtub are soaked. After another cuppa whilst I unpack, I’m ready to go out and face the world. I walk to the Riverside Mall as I know there is a food court there. Sadly there isn’t much open, I am not sure if this is because of the after effects of Katrina, or whether it’s just the time of day. I buy a shrimp po-boy and a diet coke and go and sit by the Mississippi while I eat them. I buy an Italian sausage roll to go and head back to the hotel, stopping on the way to buy a notepad so I can keep a note of what happens on my holiday. Lack of sleep is catching up with me and I need another cup of tea and headache tablets urgently. The po-boy was disappointingly skimpy so I’m still hungry so I eat the sausage roll. Not as good as it looked. My head is pounding and I could really do with more sleep, but I really need to get to Voodoofest.

Blue October performing 'Calling You'

Leslie had given me her phone number so I text her and tell her I’m on my way. I was originally going to walk up there as the weather is lovely, but reception tells me it is a very long walk. There is a shuttle for $15 return so I get that. When I get there I realise just how far away it is – very definitely NOT walking distance. The city park is in an area that was badly affected by the flooding and whilst it has now dried out, there are still quite boggy patches around, not helped by very bad weather on Thursday night (apparently). Leslie tells me she’ll meet me by the bar. I get my ticket very easily and quickly get through the empty VIP check in, getting my yellow LOA wristband. My first stop is to get a programme (unlike UK festivals where you'd pay £15+ for a programme, this is merely a sheet of photocopied paper for each day so no charge) followed by a trip to the VIP bar to get a drink. We get 3 free drinks each day with the LOA pass, but I pay the extra $3 to make my JD a double. Leslie and her friend Kim are waiting there. I have worn my pink Stetson to make myself easier to spot.

Red Hot Chili Peppers performing 'Apache Rose Peacock'

Then comes the great (and truly wonderful) surprise. Kim’s brother is a roadie for the band Blue October, who are playing later that day. He has given them artists back stage passes, allowing access to all areas and they’ve got one for me too! This means we spend the whole of Social Distortion and Blue October’s set on stage with them – a completely amazing experience and so different from watching the concert from out front. I guess God really must move in mysterious ways. If I hadn’t missed my flight the day before and got talking to the standby posse, I would never have met Leslie and would have been sat on my own, on the VIP stand watching the bands and having a good time, but alone among 60,000 people. Instead I have full access to all the stages and have met 2 great people to spend my time at the festival with. Unfortunately, we can’t use the pass to get on stage with the Red Hot Chili Peppers as they have their own pass system (and very heavy security) so end up back in the LOA Lounge watching them.

Blue October performing 'Hate Me'

I had a pretty good view - at least as good as the view I had for Robbie Williams, maybe even better. Leslie and Kim decide to go and find her brother, I decide to stay and carry on watching the RHCP’s although now from a sitting position as I am beginning to flag. The RHCP’s were excellent and were obviously having a great time up on stage, especially when they jammed with The Meters, and it was very touching to watch John Frusciante bumbling his way through a rendition of ‘City of New Orleans’ which the local crowd went mad for (in fact over the whole weekend every time anyone mentioned New Orleans a huge cheer went up). All around me people are dancing and really getting into the music. However, I personally thought Blue October were still the best band of the day. I visit the merchandise stall where I buy a Voodoofest and Blue October t shirt and while I’m there bump into half the band. I congratulate them on a fantastic set. By this time I am hungry and tired and I am worried that I will end up missing the last shuttle back to town if I stay till the end of the RHCP’s set so decide to leave just after they start their encore. The shuttle is full of very drunk, very loud people so I get off before the final stop and walk to see if I can find some food and to get a bit of peace and quiet. I end up in Ernst’s café which is about a block away from my hotel. I get a burger and chips to go and the spiciest bloody mary I’ve ever had in my life. In bed by 12.30am – probably a crime in New Orleans but I am completely knackered from the last few days.

Red Hot Chili Peppers performing 'By the Way'

Day 1 - Who said Travel is good for the Soul?

Andrew picked me up just after 5.30am on Friday (11.30pm Thursday, New Orleans time) and we got to the airport without any problems. I was really excited to be finally on my way. No problems with check-in and my case only weighed 18.9kg (a miracle) and I even got through customs really quickly. The flight was only partially booked, there were plenty of free seats, so loads of space to stretch out and make myself at home. I was talking to a lady seated near me whose friend had been refused flight because she didn’t have one of the new types of passport and was hoping her friend would make a later flight.

The problems started on the flight, just little things but bad enough to niggle – broken headphones, wine that wouldn’t open and spilt tea etc. but worse was the fact that we were running late anyway and had a headwind. There was an hour turnaround between connections but you have to clear immigration, collect and re-check your baggage and then go through customs once again, before going to your onward destination. And that’s where the problems really started.

The aircraft should have arrived at 1.30pm, but it didn’t touch down until 2.03pm. The flight to New Orleans left at 2.40pm. When I get to immigration I am a bit stressed, not helped by the fact the queue has about 800 people in it, with more arriving all the time (Houston is Continental’s hub and ALL flights go via there) and to cap it all there are only 5 international lanes open. On the plane we have been told that there is a Continental rep waiting to help. I get her attention and explain to her about the short turnaround time to get to my flight, and at the same time a group of 4 people behind me start telling her that they need to get their flight to Las Vegas. She takes them away, telling me to wait; she’ll be back for me in a minute. The foursome are fast tracked through immigration, but she doesn’t come back to me immediately, in fact if I and the people next to me (also trying to get connecting flights) didn’t make enough of a noise she wouldn’t have come back over. When I ask her why she didn’t take me through too, she tells me that I’ll miss my flight anyway now so I may as well just queue up with everyone else. She tells me I will be rescheduled onto the next flight – the excuse for taking them, not me? There were 4 of them and it would have been worse if they’d missed their flights! How would it be worse? All around me people are being fast tracked for other flights which hold up my entry even more. I finally clear immigration at 3.15pm and get down to baggage collection.

Here I find my case has been broken (the carrying handle is out and stuck) and the lock on my case has been broken open. On top of my case is a new ticket – the flight time is for 9.45am on Saturday! This really isn’t good enough. I go to the help desk and she directs me to the service desk where I am told that there are no earlier flights available (this turns out to be a lie). He puts me on standby and checks my luggage – I have no choice but to send it on broken and don’t even get an apology, just a shrug and a comment that these things happen sometimes. Wouldn’t mind but this is a brand new case that I’ve never used before.

So next it’s off to customs. Of course there’s a huge queue and I’m a bit worried about not making the 3.45pm flight, but it goes relatively quickly, although nowhere near as fast as Gatwick as the US allows 3oz bottles in clear bags on internal flights and these all have to be checked. While in the queue I realise I have an open bottle of water so finish that and get rid of the empty bottle before getting to the scanner. At last I’m going through the detector – yep you guessed it, the alarm went off (which of course it didn’t at Gatwick). So I remove my earrings, necklace, bracelet and watch after assuring them I have no belt and go through again. Still I’m beeping. So I get moved to the search area. This is in full view of everyone in the airport, so I get lots of people looking at me like I’m some sort of criminal as I continue to beep when she runs the detector over me from head to toe. Doesn’t take a brain surgeon to work out it’s my underwired bra causing the problem, as it beeps under both arms and around both boobs. More worryingly it beeps when she runs it over the bottom of my feet – I am only wearing those flight sock things, and I’m sure they don’t contain metal. Luckily on the second sweep it stays silent so I don’t get dragged away for questioning and can finally go and try to get a plane.

So finally I go to the gate to await the next flight (of course it’s as far away from customs as you can get), just having time to grab a cup of tea on the way. Unfortunately there are lots of standbys. I am hopeful of getting on though, but will definitely be late to check in. The hotel instructions say they need to be told if you won’t be there for check-in at 4pm. For some reason I can’t seem to phone anywhere in the US so after a few frantic text messages, Dolly kindly phones the hotel for me to tell them that I’ll be late – not a problem they are open 24 hours a day. Unfortunately there is no luck on getting the 4.45pm flight so it’s off to the other side of the terminal building for the 5.45pm flight (and when I say other side I mean a train ride away). No luck with that either and so I’m back and forth across the terminal for the 6.45pm and 7.45pm.

By this time there is quite a crowd of us and we’re hanging around together – the ‘standby posse’ as we’re calling ourselves. Dolly has also phoned Herbsaint and cancelled my 9pm reservation as there’s no way I’m going to make it. At this point I find that I am still 11th on the list. How can this be possible when I’ve been there longer than anyone else? There are even people higher in the list than me who have confirmed tickets for later that day and are trying standby in hopes of an earlier flight! How? At this point Cindy (the gambler) tells me that she has just managed to get a confirmed flight for the 10.45pm flight, as has Ricky. We go to the service desk to get me on the flight and find out why I wasn’t put on that flight originally. Surprise, surprise, there are no places left and no-one can explain why I wasn’t on there, just that they didn’t notice that flight earlier when they did the tickets as it was on a different page, they probably didn’t scroll down far enough. The service staff can’t believe I’m still there after all that time, but aren’t able to do anything about the standby list apparently. I’m also told that Continental don’t consider themselves responsible for holding up my flight and as I should be on my way to New Orleans by now they won’t pay for me to stay in a hotel overnight if I need it. However, if I am still at the airport after all the flights for the day have gone, I can come back to the service desk and ask for a supervisor and argue with them about getting a hotel … what great service eh?

So it’s back to the gate to find that I and a couple of others in the standby posse have missed being called by about 30 seconds and others have taken our place. Having checked that we will still be at the top of the list for the next flight (at least I am finally in the top 3) we head off to the other end of the airport for the next plane, although at this point we stop at a bar en route for a few drinks (the first drink since the cup of tea I bought after clearing customs). We have almost an hour to kill anyway, as one of the flights has been cancelled (not helping the standby situation at all) and there’s no point in rushing as the standby list is sent over automatically. When we do get there we are horrified to find that the woman at the previous check-in desk has made a mistake – she deleted the list rather than sending it on and we all have to rejoin. There are a load more people waiting too and so we’re back at the bottom of the list. By this time I have been awake for 21 hours and my mood is grumpy to say the least and after a big argument with the counter staff and me explaining how long I’ve been waiting (yep, yet again they can’t believe I haven’t got a flight yet!) I am back to number 16 in the list.

It’s now that Ricky decides that he’s had enough and is really irked by my bad treatment (bless, he was so sweet). He lives in Houston and he and his work colleague are flying to New Orleans to get a seaplane out to the oilrig they work on in the Gulf. Ricardo has only managed a standby flight as well. Ricky offers to drive him, me and a couple of other people to New Orleans. He points out that during the time we have all sat there we could have driven there quicker. The other posse members are Dan who is from Baltimore and is staying with friends in the French Quarter, all of whom are already there (he missed a connection too) and Leslie who is from Bakersfield who is meeting her friend in New Orleans and is going to Voodoofest. They like me have VIP tickets. (her friend had to make 5 different connections with the flight she took (not with Continental) and she still arrived in New Orleans by 9pm!) We gratefully accept, even though it’s a 5 ½ hour drive and leave the other members of the posse to try and get the last flight.

So the next thing is to get our luggage back. Customer services tell us that they will be downstairs as since 9/11 no luggage goes anywhere without its owner. Downstairs in the baggage office they tell us that they aren’t at Houston, they’re already at New Orleans. We ask them to check and suddenly they’re not sure, then finally confirm that yes all our cases are in New Orleans. We get to the car park, where Ricky’s monster truck is and off we go (Ricardo decides he’s going to drive his own car), stopping en route at about 1am for MacDonald’s and petrol (the first food since lunch on the plane at what works out as 4.30am the previous day). We finally get to New Orleans airport at 5.30am (I’ve now been awake for 30 ½ hours) and finally manage to find someone in the almost deserted airport who can track down our cases for us. We say goodbye to Ricky – he has to get the seaplane at 7am and needs a rest after all that driving. Dan, Leslie and I get a taxi to the hotels.

I figure I can finally start to relax as I’m almost there, but no. We get the old, blind, stupid taxi driver. He gets us to Leslie’s hotel OK as she’s in the Marriott on Canal Street (and he knows that one), and then he heads into the French Quarter to find Dan’s Ramada Hotel. It takes quite a while as he obviously hasn’t got a clue where he’s going so we go up and down every street in the Quarter. Finally, he drops Dan off round the corner from his hotel because he says he can’t get to it. That leaves just me. Even though we had told him where we wanted to go when we got in the cab (and we had to go past the district that my hotel is in on the way to the others, he insisted on going this route, but he’s now complaining that he should have dropped me first as he now needs to go out of his way to take me. Using a map from his cab I explain that I am looking for South Peter Street, which runs off North Peter Street behind the back of Harrah’s casino. He insists that it’s in the French Quarter and so back we go, round and round, eventually ending up at St. Peter’s Street which he assures me is the correct place. I point out to him that there is no hotel but he’s telling me I’ve given him the wrong address! I try to show him on the map where I need to go but he tells me he can’t see the map – he’s been to the hospital that day to get his eyes sorted ‘cos he has cataracts or something. This is borne out by the fact that he’s jumping red lights, or just stopping in the middle of junctions when there is traffic coming the other way. I was pretty scared about being hit by another car and to top it all he is swearing and threatening to chuck me out of the taxi ‘cos he’s fed up of me telling him he’s in the wrong place. By this time everything had really caught up with me so I was in tears, which made him even worse. He started shouting at me telling me that he should never have taken the fare and that he’d had enough and I could get out of his taxi as he’d brought me to where I wanted to go.

Eventually I managed to get him to drop me at Harrah’s rather than in the French Quarter, and find the road myself (it is actually the road that he dropped me on), although no-one can tell me where the hotel is. I keep walking down a deserted road and finally find the hotel. The door is solidly locked and there is no-one at the reception desk to help me and let me in. This really is the final straw. I sit on the floor sobbing and banging on the door begging to be let in (yep pathetic I know but I was so tired and fed up by this point I was wishing I’d never bothered coming). Eventually this guy appears, tired and bewildered at why I am crying and checks me into the hotel. I finally get to bed at 7am (some 32 ½ hours after I got up to go on holiday) and set the alarm for 11.30am as I desperately need some sleep, but don’t want to miss too much of Voodoofest which starts at 9am, although the bands I really want to see don’t start until later in the day anyway.

Duran Duran performing 'Ordinary World'

Red Hot Chili Peppers performing 'Snow (Hey Oh)'

And We're Off!

OK I'm finally ready to start posting. Apologies for the delay and more apologies for the length of the posts.

Each post will be accompanied by videos from voodoofest (all gleaned from YouTube). You should be warned that the quality is not very good in some of them and it doesn't always show the complete song, but it should give an idea at least of what I experienced - except of course it was so much better in real life!!!

There may be some pictures of my holiday too...

Apologies

I apologise to everyone for the delay in getting my holiday details on here. I have been pretty busy with all sorts of things since getting back and I really wanted to get the blog looking right before I posted (yeah I know, it now looks just like my usual blog but I like the look and nothing else seemed right LOL).

The first installment will appear soon I promise.

I've Been on Holiday

Well as the blurb says I've been on holiday to New Orleans. I have had so many things happen that to detail it all in my blog would take up loads of space, so I've decided to make a mini blog chronicling my holiday. Eventually there will be pictures and all sorts, but for now just a quick introduction.

WECLOME TO MY LOG OF VOODOOFEST 2006 AND MY HOLIDAY TO NEW ORLEANS