Drunk Travel Log

[Dear Booze]

What was the best cocktail of the whole journey?

Dark and Aged Rums, Red Passion Fruit, and Tropical Juices garnished with an Orange Peel "Python."

[mistah willies]

I'm now celebrating the last night in the shittiest place on earth, Anaheim.

Since I'm staying in the shadow of Disney's Matterhorn, Splash Mountain, and a fucking cartoon-like castle, I visited the evil kingdom last night. The interwebs showed me an interesting sounding bar that's located next door to the Disneyland Hotel. Trader Sam's Enchanted Tiki Bar Is a fairly well-done outdoor tiki bar with manufactured (not curated, like Frankie's in Las Vegas) decorations and a decent "inspired" drink menu.

Here's the problem with drinking in Dinsney: When you show up, the day might be starting for you and me, but it's been a very long day for the dead-eyed parents and beat-to-shit little kids. To get to the bar, one must dodge strollers, weave through unruly children, and bypass hordes of shitheads who just spent their life savings on a day in hell. Yes folks, a ticket into the park now sets those poor fuckers back $110 to $124 per person!

So I convinced five other people to go with me. All nice people who I drink with every year.

We all started plowing through rum drinks with rum, rum, rum, flavored rum, and topped with rum in special souvenir mugs shaped like skulls, fish, and my dick. Each round cost about $100! The thing is, None of us knew the price of anything before we ordered. It was an expensive night, for me. I was drunk and picked up the tab before understanding what I was in for. Fuck.

I hate Disneyland.

That whole passage was actually quite Bukowski-esque. I always look forward to your reports from the front line, my good friend.

DRINK!

Hell yes. Drink.

[Artful Drunktective]

I'd be face down in the agave field but looks fun.

Tequila Hotel

[Dear Booze]

I'd be face down in the agave field but looks fun.

Tequila Hotel

They make this place look fantastic. But anyine who's been to a tequila plantation/distillery will tell you this is bullshit. They are hot, dirty, disgusting desert hellholes swarming with snakes coyotes and tarantulas. The area where the processing takes place is teaming with flying insects so big that you can tell what brand of boots they are wearing. And it stinks of rotton fruit.

So, yeah, sounds and looks like heaven, but i guarantee you that you will wish you saved your money by purchasing a bottle each of high end Plato, Reposado, and Anejo, sat by your local pool, lake, or pond, and slowly sipped you way into stupidity. That, my dear AD is much better.

[oettinger]

Bummer

[Artful Drunktective]

I'd be face down in the agave field but looks fun.

Tequila Hotel

They make this place look fantastic. But anyine who's been to a tequila plantation/distillery will tell you this is bullshit. They are hot, dirty, disgusting desert hellholes swarming with snakes coyotes and tarantulas. The area where the processing takes place is teaming with flying insects so big that you can tell what brand of boots they are wearing. And it stinks of rotton fruit.

Dayum I would hate to read the yelp reviews on that!

"It was the most beautiful agave field I ever passed out in"

"The swarms of tarantulas really brought a quaint ambiance"

[Dear Booze]

Dayum I would hate to read the yelp reviews on that!

"It was the most beautiful agave field I ever passed out in"

"The swarms of tarantulas really brought a quaint ambiance"

"The sweet sounds of coyotes serrinaded me to sleep each night."

"Best case of malaria I've ever contracted!"

"I love shitting in a plastic bucket."

[oettinger]

Dayum I would hate to read the yelp reviews on that!

"It was the most beautiful agave field I ever passed out in"

"The swarms of tarantulas really brought a quaint ambiance"

"The sweet sounds of coyotes serrinaded me to sleep each night."

"Best case of malaria I've ever contracted!"

"I love shitting in a plastic bucket."

"The tapeworms were marvelous this summer, 5 out off 5 hands down"

[Dear Booze]

Wednesday morning started early. Steve, Alan and I hit the road toward Los Angeles at 6 AM, stpping in Bakersfield for our frind Angel.

By noon, we were on a plane towards New Orleans and by 7 PM, Louisiana time, we were at our first bar. Ryan's Irish Tavern would become a frequent stop over the next four days.

After a few cocktails, we headed to Latitude 29, a world-famousTiki themed restaurant and bar. The owner, Beach Bum Larry wasn't around but the bartender made us several over-proofed rum drinks. It was Wednesday night - a very quiet night in the French Quarter, so the bartender had plenty of time to visit with us and make recommendations of bars to visit and bartenders to seek out. A question we asked of him became a question we began asking every bartender we encountered: "where do you go to have a drink when you are not working?"

The most common answers were "Erin Rose" and "Black Penny."

Our next stop was an jackass Lagasse-owned bar and grill called "NOLA". It was over-priced and over-hyped.

Next stop was "Jewel of the South," a really great craft cocktail house owned and operated by a local celebrity bartender named Chris Hannah. He was great and the drinks were top-notch. I had a couple Rye Old Fashions. Probably the best I've ever had.

The cherry on top was that world famous bartender Paul Gustings was there as a customer. He was gracious and friendly and took a lot of time to visit and drink with us.

Great first night.

[Dear Booze]

New Orleans, Day II

We got up at noon and took a ferry across the Mississippi to Algiers Landing. It was hot as fuck and miserably humid.

There, we visited Crown and Anchor, Old Point Tavern, and Dry Dock Cafe. All three places were un pretentious local bars; there were no tourists on that side of the river.

While at Old Point, we had a drink with Linda Hamilton, who lives about a block away. I am pissed that we didn't get a photo with her. Oett would have loved it.

Later, we returned to the French Quarter and hit Pat O'Brien's a place with a rich history.

Pat O’Brien ran a speakeasy during prohibition. He "officially" opened the bar on December 3, 1933.

In the 1940’s many US distilleries were used to manufacture necessities for war time, and domestic liquor was scarce. However, Rum coming up the Mississippi river from the Caribbean islands was plentiful. In order to buy a case of Bourbon, there was strong incentive to purchase large quantities of rum. So the bartenders experimented with recipes, and eventually everyone agreed that passion fruit mixed with a shit ton of Rum was a hit. The Hurricane was born.

Over the years, the bar grew to a massive complex of several indoor and outdoor areas and now takes up one whole city block.

We sat at the original Main Bar. This room has the atmosphere of a neighborhood bar. On the walls hang framed pictures of loyal customers enjoying years spent getting crippling drunk at the place.

There are over 500 beer steins hanging from the ceiling, champagne bottle wall lamps, and mirrored bar backs bordered with ornate ironwork, the Main Bar has the feel of an old-fashioned private gentlemen’s club.

Later, we made our way to Harrys Corner. It was a place that I really wanted to visit but have very little memory of being there.

We also revisited Ryans on the way back to our hotel.

[Casual Binger]

Sounds fantastic. I’ve been a bit suspicious about NO because my friend got mugged there; and my brother was drinking in a bar there when a guy who’d just been stabbed stumbled in bleeding all over the place. So, I figured it was kinda rough. Algiers Point looks pretty cool, though. I’ll have to put it on the list.

[Dear Booze]

New Orleans, Day III, Part I

We started Friday at about noon with a quick breakfast at the Creole House and then to our real destination, Hotel Monteleon, a French Quarter hotel which is not famous for being a hotel, but for its bar. Its got a carousel bar. Kinda like the one in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, but it's classy, not kitschy. We drank Viuex Carres, Sazaracs, and Pimms Cups. And we were lucky enough to be served by Marv Allen, another world famous bartender.

After a couple hours, we wandered up the street to The Old Absinthe House but were quickly dissapointed by the sheer number of bros and douchebages who swarmed the place.

After one drink, we moved on to Tujagues (pronounced Two-Jacks), a place that is hundreds of years old and one which boldly ignored prohibition. We had a couple more Sazaracs before heading towards Frenchmen Street, an area known for New Orleans Jazz.

Molly's On The Market, was meant to be a quick stop, but we ended up having several drinks. The bartender was nice, the locals were friendly and the cocktails were great.

At about 5 PM, we moved on to American Sports Cafe, BB Kings Blues Club, and a few more forgettable stops aking the way.

Somehow, we found ourselves back at Molly's and ended up having about a half dozen more drinks. We were all pretty sloppy drunk when we finally decided to move on...

[Dear Booze]

New Orleans, Day III, Part II

We left Mollys on the Market and headed back towards Jackson Square and ducked into Pirates Alley to find some Absinthe. That was a mistake. Four drunk men adding Absinthe to their system is a roadmap to jail.

As we continued to stumble into the heart of the French Quarter, we came across several organized walking tours. The Haunted New Orleans Tour, Voodoo Tour, Food Tour, and Film Location Tour are just a few. But we didn't just walk by like normal people. We joined each group and started heckling the tour guides. "You are full of shit" and "What a crock of shit" were yelled at the top of our smoke-filled lungs.

Then, for some reason, we began to introduce ourselves to every person we met. "Hi, Mich Johnson, Ninth Ward Candidate" and stupid shit like that. After shaking about a hundred hands, we came upon a guy in his late 50s who thought we were going to rob him and he threw a punch at Steve. It was a warning shot and was designed to simple scare us off. But Steve called him an asshole. So the guy spit in Steve's face and in return got a face full of Steve's plastic cup of Gin tossed on his head.

So the guy pushed Steve and I stepped forward and clocked the guy in his jaw. As he started to fall backwards, Steve gently steered his head into the bumper of a parked car. I actually missed that last part because Angel had grabbed me and drug me down the block. We were pretty sure we were going to get some shit from some cops, but we turned the corner found another bar and had a couple more drinks. That fucking adrenaline ruins a good buzz.

[Dear Booze]

New Orleans, Day IV, Part I

We all slept late.

At 2 PM, we took an Uber several miles away from the French Quarter to the Warehouse district to visit the Southern Food and Beverage Museum and American Cocktail Museum, which are housed in the same building. To be clear, they are housed in the same large room.

The cocktail portion takes up about 15 or 20 percent of the space with exhibits of glassware, mixing instruments, photos, and a pretty decent timeline of the evolution of booze starting with the pilgrims.

One of the most interesting takeaways from this experience was learning about the ever-evolving culture of drinking here in the U.S. and how various outside influences play a role in what we drink and how we drink.

There was even a small exhibit focusing on Carrie Nation. She actually reshaped and renewed our commitment to alcohol.

We already know that our tastes and choices in booze have evolved over the years, and this museum explains how and why that has and will continue.

The piece de resistance is a full-size bar, complete with a hipster bartender, mixing up famous cocktails of our choice. This was an extra cost.

The physical bar was, itself, historic. The story was that it had been disassembled and from a popular New Orleans restaurant while the restaurant was undergoing renovations. It was placed in a warehouse in 2005. And then Katrina hit. The restaurant never reopened and the bar stayed in storage for years. When it was donated to the museum, it was in terrible shape. Not just because of water damage, but because it was in a hundred pieces with no instructions on how to reassemble the thing. But they did a pretty good job because it is gorgeous.

We stayed there for several hours.

[Patchez]

Hell yes! Now it's a must see whenever i get to Naw 'Lins again.