Do that voodoo

When given the opportunity to eat chocolate cake for breakfast, one must eat chocolate cake for breakfast. This is the unwritten law for holidays. I am lobbying to make this the written law for all other times but I can't see it being passed, unless Jeremy Krause comes on board.

So yes, I was bad at breakfast. Unfortunately what I thought was a giant donut turned out to be a bagel which I consider to be the most overated food in America. I also had bacon, eggs and grits. I've always wondered about grits. Sort of a porridge like food it turns out.   

We headed out to the increasing furnace and loaded all the loose change I could fit into the ticket machine on the trolley car. One of the coins was invalid. Turns out it was a trolley token, probably from Jeremy's bag of coins from USA last year that I have with me. 

We made our way through the streets and down North Rampart (I'm sure wayne whitely would be amused by the name).

We arrived at Louis Armstrong park which was near where our walking tour was due to start. Of course we didn't know the exact location. Luckily the other people looking lost were doing the same tour, so we managed to find the start of the voodoo tour.

It was a great tour by our voodoo priest. He dispelled the notion of voodoo dolls so I quickly crossed that off the list. Got quite a bit of information about the area that we would never have found out. 

We then proceeded to the Bastille Day fete, watched the "best dressed like a frenchman" dog show and beat the heat by going to the huge outlet store next door. By the time we finished not buying anything we had 3 hours to kill. The sky had turned green and a huge thunderclap sounded. 

We headed to the nearby movie theatre and watched Self/less. There weren't many seats left so we sat apart. Turns out the theatre was a dining theatre. Menus, waiters, call buttons. My row which was at the back and the row in front were ordering the whole time the movie was going. The amount of food and drink untouched was crazy. Not sure why the waiters were ducking down everytime they went past.

Had we sat together I'm sure I would have convinced annette we needed the peanut butter,bacon and chocolate popcorn. Oh and the big leather seats made farting sounds everytime you moved. Some things never lose their humour.

Still we had time on our hands so we wandered for a while until trying to hook ourselves a place on the walking ghost tour. We succeeded and our guide from the morning tour did another great job.  

930 at night was late for dinner and we chose Ihop. Mmmmm. Not mmmmmm but wondering mmmmmmm. Meal was ok  but the Navigator chose a stack of pancakes a mile high to share. Not good for the late hour. 

Back home by trolley car and our tour guide sits down behind us. Annette thanked him and they briefly chatted about Royal St, where all the arty and antique shops are. I told him that he has cost me a lot of money. I'm writing this after visiting the street today, which in the context of the story is tomorrow. Anyway, seems like I now have some voodoo psychic powers.