And so I left the sunshine, snow, rain, sunshine of Montana for the strangeness of Salt Lake City (see above), where I had a stopover before landing in New Orleans - in the hotel by 1am, not so bad - single taxi fare of $33 from the airport if anyone is interested. And then this morning we emerged onto St Ann St, right in the heart of the French Quarter for eggs and bacon (well for me). The day promised rain and at first didn't disappoint but soon enough we were strolling down Bourbon Street, dipping in and out of the crazy art shops and generally taking in the view, down to the Mississippi - a dirty brown old river and a far cry from the blue tinged Yellowstone River (or Elk River as the Crow call it). And all is just fine. Tomorrow we will explore properly, today was just guddling about, listening to the music on the street corners and taking in the vibe of the French Quarter that is so unique in US culture. Its been some trip; so many differences, so many different ideas and places and Montana snow to the humidity and mosquitoes (already) on New Orleans - phew, good job I packed for all the options. But one thing Montana and New Orleans seem to have in common is this kind of music - and today I saw, for the first time - an instrument I have to have. Its a mandobanjo, or a banjolin, or a banjo-mandolin... whatever, it sounded just the job. And I bet these guys have seen one - just like the band playing on the corner as we walked back to the hotel:
And so I left the 
