A Walk Down Royal

The morning sun was quite warm, and the humidity was increasing as we walked toward Canal Street on Saint Charles. A streetcar rumbled by; the antique mechanical conveyance emanating  screeching, grinding sounds with bell ringing as it passed. The rest of the world may call them trolley cars, but in New Orleans they are always referred to as streetcars. I can hardly see one without thinking of Marlon Brando’s Kowalski screaming “Stella, Stella, Stella!” Could they call them streetcars in deference to Tennessee Williams play, Streetcar Named Desire?

There was light traffic as we crossed Canal Street. Canal has four lanes of traffic with a streetcar track between them. Unlike the majority of streetcars in the city, which are drab olive green, the ones on Canal Street are brightly painted red with yellow trim. But it sounded the same. We would find out the next day that senior citizens could ride the streetcar for only $.40.

After Saint Charles Avenue crosses Canal Street it becomes Royal Street.  Royal is narrow and has no streetcar tracks. We passed a few souvenir shops along the way. The light traffic moved slowly like that big river nearby.  Many of the trucks were those of food wholesalers delivering to the many restaurants in the city . And then I heard it...a different sound, not that of motorized vehicles, but the scream of an electric guitar blasting through the almost quiet street.  I peered between the passing trucks at the other side of the street. In the morning sun sat an old black man in a flop hat with an electric guitar cradled in his hands.  Thn the bottleneck slide on his ring finger caught the light of the morning sun. The sound of the delta blues filled the narrow street. We continued walking by antique shops and art galleries before reaching Cafe Beignet.

Like many restaurants in New Orleans, Cafe Beignet is open to the street. There are a few wrought iron tables clustered together in the front part of the eatery. Near the back is a counter and there were people in a queue. I saw a woman operating a cash register at the end of the counter and surmised that people were placing their orders for food. We surveyed the menu on the wall and decided that it was time to be a bit adventurous and order crayfish omelettes, one with hash brown potatoes and one with grits. The young man behind the counter gave us our coffee orders in styrofoam cups, and we went outside the small  courtyard to find a table. There was a tree in the corner next to the  street which was visible through the wrought iron fence. Our food arrived rather quickly, and we were pleasantly surprised at the the tastiness of the omelettes. The egg covered creek delicacies had the addition of bell peppers and tomatoes with a hint of onion.  Claudette’s hash browns had bits of andouille sausage for added flavor. My grits were course ground just the way I like them and to my delight the order with grits was referred to as the "regular". The dining area was rather crowded but not so crowded that a brown tabby cat could not attend. We delighted at the interaction between the tabby and a tiny Eurasian girl. It was a pleasant meal; warm weather, the smell of blooming flowers, and the diners' voices drowning out the sounds of light traffic. I brushed a few crumbs from my plate to the sparrows on the ground before depositing our plates and cups into the trash receptacle and taking our leave,

Most of the shops on Royal Street were now open.  We window shopped a bit before entering an art gallery. About a half a dozen artists were represented in virtually every medium. Some of the paintings were quite simplistic depending on bold color and simple shapes to convey their respective messages. There were realistic landscapes in watercolor and gouache. A young woman showed us quite a section of Salvador Dali hand colored lithographs. She was quite knowledgeable about art and had once attended a glassblowing workshop of Dale Chihuly. We said our farewells and continued our walk down the street.  A collection of periscopes in a shop window caught my attention. There were six of them.  Periscopes normally  make one think of submarines and naval warfare but not these. In

the days of trench warfare, such as WWI, periscopes were routinely used to survey areas beyond the trench without exposing one’s  self to enemy fire. These were real beauties, and I could not resist the opportunity to get a closer look. We entered the antique shop through a heavy wooden door. It was flush with antiquities of the household variety. Claudette immediately  was drawn to the tea sets. After a closer look at the periscopes, I found the hand cranked butter churns interesting. It was enjoyable but there were other things to see down the street.

Royal has all the prerequisites of NOLA streets. The buildings are old, most of the paint is faded, and wrought iron balconies are abundant.  But, the shops and restaurants are world class. The shops sell Rolex, Cartier and other exclusive brands. Royal Street is known as one of the most expensive places in the world to shop . We continued our walk by the New Orleans police station. A sign on a post advertised NOPD t-shirts for sale. I’m not quite sure who would want one.  

We approached the corner of St. Louis and Royal. A brightly painted carriage passed by loaded with tourists. We’ve seen these in many cities, Charleston, St. Augustine, Savannah, and others. There is something to be said for a horse drawn carriage ride, the slow ride and lively chatter of the driver add something to an historic city.

We last had a carriage ride in Charleston on our fifth anniversary. There was a barricade across the street making Royal Street, from St. Louis to St. Ann Street, pedestrian only. A pedestrian only street is just the place for street entertainers. It seems the newest form of street entertainers are poets. Yes, poets. The poets sit at tiny tables with old portable manual typewriters.  Like most street entertainers they are dressed in the best the Goodwill store has to offer. They offer personalized poems for every occasion. One poetess advertised erotic poems. I dared not query any details. One tall thin black man in white tie and white tails stood motionless on one leg with a stuffed doggie on a leash. A few yards further down the street a man in a Darth Vader helmet and robe danced to pop music.  There were other bands too, some playing dixieland jazz. New Orleans is known for music where the names of Marsalis, Armstrong, Connick, Neville, and others are

famous.  But the folks playing on the street aren’t that well known. One band in particular, dressed in tatters, of course, was playing some gypsy style music with a very slim male singer with a falsetto voice. At least I think he was a male with a mop of curly brown hair. But the eye makeup and pink lipstick made his gender questionable. We listened to the music a bit before ducking into the Court of Two Sisters for a late lunch.

Behind the double doors was about a thirty foot hallway to the courtyard. It was flanked by other buildings, and in the back was access to an alley with a street beyond. There was shade over the eating area with tables draped in white tablecloths. In the corner was a band of clarinet, banjo, and bass producing a cool jaźz sound. The food was served buffet style. There were over seventy dishes to partake of. The choices were almost overwhelming. It was my intent to sample as many local dishes as possible, and I enjoyed my attempt very much. I did have a crash course in the proper way to eat a crayfish. We enjoyed the meal at the Court of Two Sisters and would recommend it to everyone.

We continued our walk down Royal Street and then turned right on St. Peters Street toward Jackson Square. Every time I return to New Orleans I always walk down Royal.  Maybe it’s not as famous as Bourbon Street, but I like it.