Day xx, New Orlean's - Huka Bar

It'd been a longe day, and I'd jus made it back to the hotel with a total time of about 5minutes for me to shower and get ready for dinner, I'd mastered this buy now. We'd been been to dinner and our tour guide and some others had found out there was a Huka bar where you can go to smoke flavoured tobacco's. First though we went to the Coyote Ugly bar, but it was not the real one like in the Meat Packing district in New York City. This seemed to be purely for tourist value but it had the bra's and underwear stuck to the ceiling and walls, I was told that Cameron Diaz, Drew Barrymore and Madonna had shed their gear hear to be hung from the lights, I took that with a grain of salt let's say. There's this woman up one the bar dancing around and generally giving appeal and eye candy to the place and we're simply sitting around soakjing up the atmosphere and having a few Bud's and the bar girl decides to spice things up and pours vodka of something along the bar and lights it up (as you do!) whenever people order a round. So then she downs a mouthful of something titlts her head back and puts a lighter to her mouth and blows out this HUGE firball out of her mouth, it was fantastic. All the while one of the other barmaids jumps up and does a body shot with someguy where he lies back and she holds a testtube of alcohol in her mouth and lets it ooze out of her mouth into his then slapping his chest and he sits back with all around screaming YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! All I could think was, Yummy! Bargirl mouth germs! CAn I have herpies simplex A with that or Hepititus if you've got it! So we're partying away and the usual wild girls Courtney, Chelsea, Sarah and Monique are soaking it up in the bar and Courtney was dared up to the bar where they put her on her knees and with every sexual connatation imaginable get het to do a shot from a someone's croth, classy! but funny :-) All in all it was not a bad bar, but it was just the first stop of what was to be a very long night!

From there we went to the Huka bar and ordered 3 flavoured tobaccos, Banana Milk, Pina Colada and Lemon Marang. Simply put, you smoke it by using the personal plastic mouthpeice they give you to place over the tip of this insulated hose which stems out of this extravagant brass multichambered bong, and it tastes excactly like it but your inhaling the taste, it's quite phenomenal to say the least. The smoking device looks Arabian almost and is a bit more than the breaka bottle with a peice of hose jammed in it. So I'm ordering cocktails as we're doing this and by now I'm on my second which wsa called the Pimp gangsta cocktail if I recall correctly and it's got about 7 different types of rum in it, pimp juice and god knows what else. OVerall the cocktails didn't feel like they were having much impact, but I wsa feeling very light headed from the flavoured tobacoo, almost spaced out and calm. After an hour or so of having fun blowing out this intensly thick smoke and eventually getting over the concept that the smoke had a distinctive taste, we decided to make a move to Bourbon St.

So my tour guide is hailing down a cab and this Indian guy is driving... how cleche! This guy is ordering us to all get in and there's like 8 or 9 of us by this stage, he claims that he can seriously get 10 people in his cab regardless if it's against the law or not, I'm sure he could speak the cop$ language to get the to buzz off for that inspection of that cab ride. He saying to us in this thick Indian accent "Hey, hey! C'mon guys I can get 10 in here look 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 10, c'mon $5 per head that's all!" This guy was an entrepenaur I could tell, but not very successful one if he's driving cabs. We ended up splitting the cabs and about 6 of us jump in the cab and I'm sitting somewhere in the middle with some girl on my lap. So, we get to Bourbon St and everyone piles out and by this stage I'm really feeling the coktails have kicked in along with the flavoured tobacco and this cabbie is screaming at us "Hey where's my money, who the fuck is going to pay me!" and Graham leans in and says "That ride was only worth 15 bucks mate, take it or leave it, we ain't paying $5 bucks a head" and he throws him a couple of bucks and I walk past his open window and throw him $2 and let out a sly "Thanks maaaaate" and Peter a doctor from Bendigo is panicking all this time cos the cabbie with his little religious white buddah cap is yelling out "You fucking Australian tourists, I will call the police if you don't pay me or I will fucking shoot you myself!" I've looked at the guy and laughed and Pete is scrambling through ca$h and we eventually get rid of the guy and I pat Pete on the back and say "Don't sweat it mate, lets go do some drinking and fix you up with a local" Somewhere around here is where it becomes very hazy for me and I remember becoming smashed on the Hurricane's whilst dancing to Lloyd Bank$ - On Fire, Notorious BIG - Mo Money, Mo Problems and nearly landing myself in a fist fight buy sleazing onto some guys girl, but I became great friends with the guy in the bathroom who hands out the mints, as I have a photo with him and the club DJ. One thing I realised through looking at my camera video footage is I once again becoime very familiar and friendly to the shooters girls, hey I couldn't say no to that little Russian girl :-) But I still have no recolectino of how I got home that night, but however it wsa, God was with me that night and I woke the next morning at 9am to my tour guide drumming on my door saying"Adam, let's go, we leave in 5 mins, bus is leavin dude". I still sometimes wonder how on earth I got home, it could've involved the police, but I can't be sure. When I ran out of my room to the bus in such a hurry, thus leaving my camera battery and charger behind in the hotel room, I ws horrified at the sight in the bathroom and flashbacks of my midnight torture in the shower after another hard night drinking came flooding back. In my mind the shower curtain suddenly appeared and the water was running, I was grabbing the wall hard and paying severly for my night of craziness. As I walked on the bus, everyone knew what was up as I did the walk of shame down the aisle, all were looking, but cheering, clapping and laughing as I stumbled in the same clothes that I wore the night before. Poor Andrea who sat next to me for the whole of the next days bus trip to Memphis. I must've smelt like an absolute brewery with the alcohol escaping out of the pores of my skin. I remember seeing her shiver when I hoped up to go to the toilet, I knew what was coming and so did she, I'm lucky and so was everyone else, that the toilet was vacant and I made it. I knelt down and all I had to do to start 'the healing' of my poor bruised and battered drinking soul, was stick my head in the bowl and close my eyes and my body knew it was ok now to do exactly what it had to do. Sometimes people who go out realise what they were like on the drink when they were 18, 21, 24 etc etc and you sit back and think, wow I'm growing up, y'know I really am maturing as a person, I used to be so crazy when drinking. But then that night comes along to put you back to 18 and you realise that you just broke your 'sensible' streak and you're not as adult as you once thought. Well, this was that night for me. New Orlean's was undoubtably the provider of the drunkest night I've ever had in my 26 years on this planet, and leaviheng me with a hell of a hangover that would infact take me 2 days to get over!!

More New Orlean's travel stories

• Day xx, New Orlean's - Hurricane Adam
• Day xx, New Orlean's - Huka Bar
• Day xx, New Orlean's - Dinner on the Mississippi