Lonely Planet (UK) - - Journal - Jack Pal­frey, lone­ly­planet.com As­sis­tant Ed­i­tor @ JPalfers

DUR­ING A SHOESTRING CROSS­ING of the South­ern USA, a friend and I met an unas­sum­ing gent in the smok­ing area of a bar in Jack­son, Mis­sis­sippi. He was partly be­mused, partly im­pressed by our low-bud­get odyssey (dur­ing most of which we slept in our car), but more in­ter­ested that our next stop was New Or­leans, his home­town. He talked pas­sion­ately about the city un­til his cig­a­rette burnt away, fin­ish­ing his so­lil­o­quy by rec­om­mend­ing his favourite ho­tel over­look­ing the city’s main strip, Bour­bon Street (pic­tured left). We told him it looked lovely, but we could never af­ford it. ‘You know what guys,’ he said, ‘this one is on me.’ It was a bizarre, re­mark­able act, typ­i­cal of the count­less ge­nial lo­cals we met on that trip.

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