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The characters of New Orleans have been seducing me ever since high school when Stanley yelled "Stella!" in Tennessee Williams "Streetcar Named Desire." I’ve always agreed with Blanche that New Orleans was not like other cities. Certainly, the Midwest I grew up in had nothing so steamy and torrid. Wondering if the New Orleans responsible for such characters still existed, I turned to Professor Holditch. |
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 Maison de Ville is not like other hotels. Its quiet, cool darkness sequesters me from the glare and tumult of Vieux Carré (the French Quarter.) In its courtyard, scintilla of light and water dance from a tiered fountain. Spiky palms, hot pink begonias and a pint-sized Civil War Cannon perform the arabesque. Narrow stairs snake up to the gallery where chartreuse asparagus ferns silhouette tracery on terracotta-colored walls.
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