by. Emma was singled out by several 'throwers' and soon had a collection of
four sets of beads. In fact she could have had more if she had accepted an
invitation from a young man to show her boobs for a set of beads. ‘Maybe if
they were gold’ was the response, and in that case I would have pulled her
shirt up myself. And what did I get? Well, a middle-aged woman tried to entice
me up to her balcony and kept blowing kisses at me...Vive la difference!
Sadly the warm fuzzy glow from Bourbon Street deserted us before we
got home. First we had to work out where to get the bus from - not where we
had assumed when we had blithely ignored the instructions from the lady who
had helped us in the morning. Next we had to wait by a very dark and
deserted bus stop, with an old homeless man who stood too close and
advised us not to go to the cemetery at night. He was a little threatening, but
also seemed quite genuinely down on his luck so we gave him some change
- the least we could do having spent so much on a drink earlier. Eventually
the bus came and we got back to the van for some sleep, and to prepare for
another long day in the party-town.
If there was a fault in the manner in which Emma and I approached Travelling
(the overall experience, hence the capital ‘t’) it was that we tried to do too
much. In actual fact the fault was that we did not have enough time to spend
in most of the places we visited. Our second full day went something like this:
up very early; bus to town; sprint to National Park Service Centre for spaces
on the limited capacity free walking tour (just beating an elderly, infirm,
woman to the last spot – not actually beating with a stick you understand, but
nevertheless not something we are proud of, however someone has to get the