Beignets and Buggies

Hi! Howare you? I hope you are well. Let me introduce myself. My name is Celestine and I am a horse! A very special horse, and I live in a very special place. It is a city called New Orleans in the state of Louisiana, in the deep south of the United States of America.
My owner and co-worker is an old gentleman called Pascal. We have been together for many years and are great friends. I pull a carriage around New Orleans nearly every day and I know every inch of the city. Visitors to New Orleans love to ride with us as Pascal's guided tours are famous. He knows the history of New Orleans back to front. Did you know that the city boasts a real pirate? His name was Jean Lafitte and he had a band of privateers. They lived in a part of the city called Pirates Alley! He even had a forge where they shoed horses. It was before my time, so I have had to make other arrangements when I need new shoes.
But whoa!! I am getting ahead of myself. I am sure that you will want to know more about uus and our way of life. After that I will tell you about the magical festival held every year in our city, in April. It is called the French Quarter Jazz Festival.
Pascal lives in a small house with a courtyard. My stable looks on to this courtyard and is opposite Pascal's house. My best friend is a small grey cat whose name is Berengere. She prefers to live with me rather than in the house with Pascal. She and I have much to talk about when we meet up in the evening after my day's work. We chat together while we have our supper. She then sleeps, either in my hay manger or on the back of my neck.
In the early morning I hear the door of Pascal's house open and I know that he is coming across to wake me up. Needless to say, I am always awake! He kisses me on the nose and prepares my breakfast. He usually gives me a carret as a treat. I love carrots. So crunchy! While I eat my breakfast he goes to collect the carriage. He cleans and dusts it, making it ready for the day's work. When all is to his satisfaction he harnesses me up to the carriage and away we go.We move slowly along the street until we reach Adele. She is an old lady who has a flower stall by the side of the road. She and Pascal have been friends since childhood. They grew up together in the same street. At the four corners of the carriage are small flower holders. There is also one on my back. Adele puts water in each holder using a watering can with a long spout, then inserts small bouquets. Pascal pays for the flowers. She then reaches under the stall and brings out two warm croissants and an apple for me. She refuses all payment for these. She kisses Pascal on both cheeks and me on the nose, wishes us a good day and we are off. Our working day has begun.
I move off at a steady clip-clop towards Jackson Square. This is where all the horses and carriages line up while waiting for custom. A sort of horse and carriage taxi-rank, if you like. Let me tell you about Jackson Square. It's a fabulous place. you would think you were in France it is so French. There are cafés with courtyards and it is in one of these that Pascal and his fellow drivers have their morning coffee. Well he'd need a café au lait after those two croissants, wouldn't he. I look at the Square. He has hitched the reins to the railings so that I cal look at the paintings our local artists affix there in the hopes of a sale. Some of the pictures are very pretty.
The illusion of being in France continues with the French Market, similar to a real French market with stalls laden with fresh produce. The Café du Monde nearby serves real Frence beignets and the smell of them frying brings great pleasure to my nostrils. Maybe, some day,someone will buy me one! I turn my head slightly so that I can keep an eye out for prospective clients and also on Pascal who is finishin his café au lait and his chat with the other drivers. I also gaze, full of admiration, at my favourite statue in the whole of New Orleans. I is Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans, newly gilded and mounted on a horse. What a horse! A magnificent animal! I admire him a lot.
Tourists approach lookin for a carriage ride. I neigh to get Pascal back to his post and look soulfully at them with my big brown eyes! It always works! Thay climb into the carriage and we move off sedately. Pascal begins his history of New Orleans. "New Orleans was founded in 1718. It is unique, a legend. A soul place for jazz lovers from all over the world". While he continues his history lesson, I trot along to the Vieux Carréo the French Quarter as it is also known. This part of the city is very special, the streets are narrow and I have to be careful. The tall houses on either side of the streets have wonderful wrought iron balconies filled with flowers. Their fragrance is delightful, not only for humans, as I enjoy it too.
After the French Quarter we head for the river, "Ol Man River", the mighty Mississippi. Wide and muddy; still a working river with tug boats and barges, and one of my great delights, the steam boats. I particularly love the "Natchez", which plies the river twice a day. It is a musical boat. Oh yes it is! It has a calliope, a steam pipe organ found only on steam boats and music pours from it. Wonderful! Pascal stops for the tourists to alight so that they can take photographs of the river and the "Natchez". They even take photos of us.They climb back in and we move slowly back to Jackson Square. They are happy with their trip and we are happy too as it is time for lunch.
The afternoon trips are much the same as our morning ones. Pascal and I love our work. Pascal enjoys meeting people from all over the world and shareing with them his love of the city and its history. We rarely have a bad day, even if it rains. The carriage has a hood; Pascal a mack and I have a waterproof cover. As you can see we are well equipped.
I will now tell you about that magical festival. Every April it brings to our city a huge number of jazz fans. Known as the French Quarter Jazz Festival it takes place in the Vieux Carré. As the date for the festival draws near, a fever of excitement grips the city. Stages for all the different bands are set up in the streets. Music floods the city as all these bands practice, try out new numbers or new arrangements. Pascal gets out his best suit and hat. He brushes me even more than usual. I love to look pretty!
The festival always starts on Friday and ends on Sunday. Three days of unending music, fabulous for all jazz lovers, and Pascal and I are among their number. We love jazz! All jazz! Any jazz! The city has been filling up for days. Hotels are full, restaurants packed. Horse and carriage rides are popular and we are in great demand. We move slowly along the street careful of crowds and players alike. We listen to all the bands as we pass. Delicious smells of Creole and Cajun cooking float out from every eating place. My favourite is the "Gumbo House", and I clop by slowly to get the full benefit of the smells. Three days of total madness and by Sunday night both Pascal and I are very happy but very tired. We decide to call it a day. Before we head for home Pascalbuys me a beignet from the Café du Monde. I munch it with much enjoyment. Boy, it is so good!
Once home in my stable I look towards Pascal"s house. I see Adele arrive with several shopping bags. She will cook Pascal's dinner tonight and maybe leave an apple for me. Another French Quarter Jazz Festival is over and life will shortly get back to normal. I feel Berengere hop onto the back of my neck and in less than a minute I am fast asleep.

Copyright Jacqueline Hastings 2009