Category: Books

July 22, 2021

Greetings, from New Orleans!

After half an hour of ambling down the Mississippi River, past the Audubon Aquarium and the famous Natchez steamboat, I wandered into the French Quarter and finally found a suitable café for writing on Decatur street. Unlike Café du Monde and Beignet Café (also on Decatur street), this one has indoor seating, air-conditioning, and is not full of tourists. I’m the only customer here, matter o fact. So I’ve finally found a place to stop and write (and stop sweating.)

There are plenty of windows here. In fact, I think they are actually sealed up old doors, as if once this cafe, like many of the others, sat open to the street. But despite the abundance of windows, there is no view to speak of. The glass, framed in a dark wood, is entirely covered in condensation– a result of the battle between the 100-degree heat without and the 60-degree air conditioning within.

I just noticed, the chairs have holes in the backs in the shape of a steaming teacup in its saucer. I want one. The booths of maroon leather match the chair seats.

I say booths, there are only the two; it is not a large café, might seat a dozen people. Fortunately, for the moment, I have the place to myself.

I am also sipping my first cup of caffeine in 22 days. (A café au lait for the record, which is not only the traditional way to prepare coffee in New Orleans but also my preference anywhere I go. Of course, they got it right. They never do at home, alas.) I’m not cheating on my pact with S; I was given dispensation. He agrees the circumstances are extenuating. We both agree that 23 days without caffeine is as good as 30 but not as good as 0. We were mad to attempt it to begin with. (I needn’t mention that July has not been my most productive month, as I (along with many ADHDers, self-medicate with caffeine.)

But back to the café. I was sat in one of the two leather armchairs, but the direct blasts of cold ar were too much for me. For the first two minutes I sat there, it was nice to commune with the little succulents in a bowl on the side table. But longer than that, the sweat started to turn to ice on my skin. 

I can still appreciate the artistic industrial-style hanging lamp fixtures and the exposed wooden beams from my seat at a table.

In any case, it’s time I stopped describing the café I’m going to write in and actually get to writing.

EOM or WPL?

(Later: EOM, as it turned out, even though my usual day for it is Friday.)

July 23, 2021

Finally made it to Baldwin & Co. This was the one real place on my list of places to visit, especially while I was here, apart from Café du Monde, for my sister’s sake. (I did manage a visit later with A after she got in. We shared beignets, and yes, got powdered sugar everywhere. The music playing was lovely. Everyone, please tip buskers. Being an artist is difficult, be it musician or writer, painter or potter. But to spend hours working, essentially for free, and only making what people feel like giving. Tragically, this is often nothing), and in this heat? Please feed the artists if you enjoy their art!)

Wow, that was quite the digression. 

Back to Baldwin & Co. Here I am! Definitely worth the hour’s walk and the three blisters I collected getting here (a first for these shoes. Alas. I may have worn them out at last.)

I’ve bought a splendid volume of poetry. Read half of it right here at the table before writing this. Vulnerable AF by Tarriona (Tank) Ball, local slam poet, author, and musician. Please do give her debut collection a read. 

This café-cum-bookshop itself, though having a limited selection of books, is spectacular. A larger than life portrait of James Baldwin is painted on book spines, and a mural of Langston Hughes next to his poem I, Too takes up a whole wall.

And they have a podcast studio in the back that you can rent. The walls are glass, and you can see people speaking into microphones. I wonder what they are saying.

The floor is part light wood that merges halfway across the room with black hexagonal tiles that climb up the coffee bar as well. The walls are brick and light wood, the same as the floor, pillars and exposed ceiling beam. 

Baldwin & Co. is so well designed. I am impressed. Moved even.

For I think my favourite thing about this place is that all the books they stock face outward on the shelves, displaying each and every cover. Such a respectful way to display books–giving every work its due, not choosing which precious few covers get to be seen while the rest anonymously cram together spine to anonymous spine. You can tell that the owners of this place are proud of their writers. 

This place is an homage, and one can feel it the moment you walk in.

The whole of this city feels much the same.

(I’m not great at taking photos when I’m out and about. But here are a couple that I managed.)

Until next time…