I had read of a ferry leaving every fifteen minutes from the base of Canal Street. Its destination: Algiers Point, a New Orleans neighborhood on the other side of the Mississippi.
Because it was described as yet another zone devoid of tourists, Algiers Point interested me. And since the ride was free, and since I like ferries almost as much as trains, this venture had my name written all over it.
I boarded the boat and took in panoramic views of the city. The engines gunned and we were off for the six-minute ride. To my right I noticed the steeple of the St. Louis Cathedral in Jackson Square. Church-builders believed a steeple must mark the highest point of a town because man should never rise above God. To my left I saw the skyscrapers of the Central Business District and noted: They forgot.
Upon landing, I climbed the elevated grassy levee surrounding Algiers Point and studied a harbor busy with industry. On the dirt pathway along the top of the levee, a girl jogged by and a man walked two dogs. They both expressed greetings. In fact, almost everyone I passed in New Orleans would nod and say "Hello" or "How ya doin'?" or "Nice to see ya" as if we were long-time acquaintances.
Very friendly bunch, I thought. Very friendly, indeed. I could live here.
Guideposts in Algiers Point informed me that I was in Historic Algiers and as I walked around the village I sensed that I was stepping back in time. On a corner, a 1930s-era gas station with a bright orange Gulf sign and blue trim, one pump and two picnic tables. Quaint and adorable, it looked like a movie set.
The streets were quiet but for a slight breeze riffling through branches and the chirping of birds. Porch swings. Baby toys scattered inside fenced yards. Sweet.
A large white banner advertised a Knights of Columbus Fish Fry and Crawfish Boil. Fun and so neighborly.
Two huge billboards heralded tours of Blaine Kern's Mardi Gras World, where "Every Day is Mardi Gras!" Poking around warehouses of parade floats sounded super-fun, but when I got there I found the entrance bolted shut. A piece of paper with a handwritten scrawl curled in the wind. I flattened the notice with my hand and read that Mardi Gras World had moved to the Convention Center.
Wow, a whole world moved across the river to the Convention Center. Hope they have more food and water than the Katrina evacuees received, which is to say: none.
Disappointed, I moved on from Mardi Gras World and found myself face-to-face with a bronze plaque. "Algiers, established in 1719....Originally called the 'King's Plantation,' it was first used as the location for...a holding area for the newly arrived African slaves." A bucolic countryside where chained men and women were cleaned up before being sold at auction in the French Quarter.
Though the sun shone, I shivered, and read on.
Algiers Point became a hub of shipbuilding, dry docks and rail yards. Kevin Herridge, President of the Algiers Historical Society, and Vinnie Pervel, President of the Algiers Point Association, have their names engraved on the sign along with this claim: The charm and architecture of old Algiers is New Orleans' "hidden jewel."
Mmmm-hmmm.
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