A self-guided tour of the Garden District, then lunch and a walking tour of the French Quarter in the afternoon. I thought I saw John Goodman sitting on his porch, and I loitered outside of Sandra Bullock’s house hoping she might step out and start chatting with me, but alas. The streetcar on St. Charles Ave. was great for getting to the French Quarter but left us in the cold on the way home. Quiches and pastries, including beignets at Cafe du Monde, plus a beer for the road since open containers are legal in the streets. So weird. One final po’boy, and then we were on our way to try to find camping for the night. And that was an adventure not worth remembering.