Welocome to New Orleans

When I arrived in New Orleans, I planned on staying a few days and then continuing westward on my Ducati 900 S.S.. I made my way to the French Quarter glad to be on a bike in the hot humid weather typical for late July. New Orleans' elevation is below sea level. I passed by above ground crypts. The street I was looking for appeared, I found the adress, parked my motorcycle up on the sidewalk and knocked on the door. To my surprise, a petite, cute young woman opens the door - she just has a towel wrapped around her. Before I can react, the towel drops and she slips some clothes on. Welcome to New Orleans, I think to myself. She escorts me to the girl I will be staying with for the next 3 days. Her name is Christine. She is the daughter of my parents close friends. I do not know her but when the parents heard that I was passing thru New Orleans they encouraged me to stay with her. The 3 days flew by quickly. I was treated like royalty by her neighbors, cookouts and parties every night. I decided to check out a hostel that fellow travelers had spoke highly of. India House is a bacpackers hostel which sits about a mile outside the French Quarter. I found it easily, parked my bike and walked into the coolest scene I had ever seen. Growing up in the North East I always dreamed of a place where the counter culture ruled. And now I had found it. This is why I left the maximum security detention center in the first place I realized. Initially one of the staff said that it's only for internationals but a nice English girl by the name of Jan, who happened to be the manager, interceded. The next day I checked in to India House Internationlal Backpackers Hostel. Little did I know the changes I would go thru. Sometimes, when you get what you long for it can be a mixed blessing. What I gained was a deeper sense of my self and purpose. The layers of illusion which prevented me from knowing myself would begin to disintergrate. How else could I have ever found my dharma?