I nearly walked my legs off in New Orleans last month, while on a trip with friends.
We parked in a parking garage by Harrah’s at the end of Canal Street and then hopped on the trolley to the French Market.
We walked through the open air market, looking at all kinds of trinkets, carvings, silly hats and more. And then we walked through the stores in the French Market. I had to step in all the shops and look around. I found lots that I could buy, but refrained myself, since I knew I had a long way to carry my purchases.
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