Well, I finally made it. New Orleans.
I’ll be spending the next two mid-summer weeks sweating it out on the Gulf Coast. It’s going to be pretty tough. I’d put in a normal person work week by 8:00 this morning, and this is already looking like one of those no-weekend jobs. But, I’m in New Orleans, that’s pretty cool.
However, as per usual, I’m not actually in New Orleans, that’s just the address. It appears that some overzealous member of the city council has zoned the french quarter as such that the steam methane reformers have to keep their distance. Honestly, I don’t really know where I am around here, but something tells me it’s not anywhere near the Mardi Gras parade route.
As I’m sure is the case a little more often than the tourist bureau would like to admit, what first caught my attention about this area was the number of boarded up, washed out, or otherwise Katrina-ed buildings. The 15 minute drive from the hotel to the power plant included numerous structures that were little more than skeletons. Our hotel is a stone’s throw away from a couple such buildings, an old seafood restaurant and a sprawling complex that I’m pretty sure used to be a La Quinta.
Before I ordered my pizza and retired to my bed for the evening, I went over and had a look:
It’s slated to be a pretty busy couple of weeks, but with a little luck, ok a lot of luck, maybe I’ll get a chance to see some, like, cool parts of this city… I’ll certainly keep you posted. It’s bed time.