I really didn't like New Orleans. How are you supposed to enjoy a city that has been ignored and left to rot? (long post)

I visited New Orleans last weekend (April 1-5). I had zero expectations, besides knowing that I wanted to skip Bourbon St. I had heard horror stories about how trashy and party-oriented it was. I don't like partying or drinking, and I hate anything that feels like a tourist trap. So I was careful to avoid anything like that. I planned carefully and put a lot of work into creating an itinerary that was filled with as much of the city's culture and history as I could possibly fit in. I also made sure to talk to as many locals as I could, because I figure that the best way to learn about a city is from the people who live there, right? So I asked a lot of questions, took a lot of recommendations, followed a lot of advice. <br><br>I read a ton of articles and books and historical documents. I watched as many documentaries as I could. I listened to local musicians and watched local movies. Honestly, I thought I had a really good idea of what I was walking into. There were some things I was going to be careful of, and some things I was going to skip. But I've traveled to a lot of cities before and I know how to steer clear of sketchy stuff. I was so excited to see the city for myself, to taste the food and smell the air and see the buildings. I had read so many stories about resiliency and pride, about the unbreakable spirit of this city and the unwavering solidarity of its inhabitants. <br><br>But when I got there, almost every conversation I had was about how miserable everyone was. About how they hated the tourists, hated the government, hated the gentrification, hated the new developments, hated the old developments, hated the police and the lack of police, hated the traffic, hated the weather. This shocked me. I have traveled all over the US, and I've never, *never*, encountered a group of people that were so openly resentful and hateful and dissatisfied. I've visited cities with high crime rates, cities with huge poverty rates, cities that have been destroyed by natural disasters. But people are always proud of their home. You can hear it in their voices when they talk about their favorite restaurants and their favorite landmarks and their favorite activities. They always want to share their home with you, even if it's imperfect, even if there are parts to be avoided. They want to show you how resilient they are, how strong they are. <br><br>That's not what I encountered in NO. Almost every person I met seemed to be plotting their escape. They seemed to know and talk about the city's high crime rate, high murder rate, high unemployment rate, high obesity rate. They seemed to know and talk about the city's rampant corruption. They seemed to know and talk about the city's collapsing infrastructure. <br><br>I know that I, as a stranger, couldn't see the full inside of the city. But what I saw was enough to make me feel like I was standing at the edge of a sinkhole. Nothing about this place felt stable. Nothing about this place felt strong. The first day I arrived, I walked the entire length of the Mississippi River Walk. It was beautiful, but it was also incredibly depressing. The river was magnificent, but the buildings lining the bank were crumbling. The promenade was cracked and broken. There was garbage lining the entire length of the river. There were abandoned crumbling buildings spilling into the water. Sometimes, I saw a derelict boat sinking into the water, its wooden hull cracked and broken. <br><br>I visited all the big cemeteries and they were beautiful, but they were also crumbling. A lot of the tombs were collapsing. They were covered in vines and moss and mold, and a lot of the stone was cracked and breaking. There was trash lining the walkways. All of the cemeteries were surrounded by slums, the kind of neighborhoods with devastated looking buildings, broken down cars, torn up chain link fences, and garbage filled streets. The kind of neighborhoods where I felt like I was in danger and where every person I saw looked like they were plotting something, or running from something (I've seen plenty of slums in my life, but I've never been anywhere where the situation felt so dire). <br><br>I walked through a lot of different neighborhoods. I saw a lot of the historical mansions in the Garden District, and those were beautiful. But they were surrounded by abandoned and boarded up houses. Every street was cracked and crumbling. A lot of the houses had broken windows, broken fences, broken gutters. All of the buildings were covered in vines and mold and moss. A lot of the gardens were overgrown and dying. <br><br>I walked down Decatur St, and I did not like it at all. It was incredibly touristy, but it also felt abandoned. It was lined with souvenir shops and tourist traps, but half of the storefronts were boarded up. There was garbage lining the streets. The street itself was cracked and crumbling. The sidewalks were broken and uneven. The French Market was depressing. It was full, really full, but it felt empty somehow. It felt like there should be more people, more food, more music. All of the buildings were crumbling and covered in mold and moss. The food was overpriced, and not very tasty. <br><br>I was surprised that the streetcar didn't go very far. It was fun to ride, and I rode on it a lot. But it didn't seem to be a very practical mode of transportation. It didn't seem like it went to a lot of places that people would actually want to go. It didn't seem like it was a reliable way to get around. <br><br>I visited Jackson Square and it was a little bit better. The buildings were really beautiful, and it was nice to sit on a bench and listen to the music. But it was still an incredibly touristy place. Every person I saw was either taking selfies or trying to sell me something. There was garbage lining the streets. It didn't feel very clean or very safe. <br><br>I visited the Crescent Park and it was one of the brightest spots in the entire trip. It was clean, and well kept, and well maintained. It was full of happy people. It was right on the river, and it was beautiful. But it was also eerily quiet. There was none of the music I had been promised. None of the dancing. None of the masks or costumes. It was a really, really nice park, but it didn't have any real personality or culture or soul. <br><br>I visited the New Orleans Museum of Art and it was another bright spot. It was beautiful, inside and out, and it did not feel like the rest of the city. It was clean, and well maintained, and full of happy people. But it felt kind of...containerized. It was surrounded by a high wall, and it was in the middle of a big park that was also surrounded by a high wall. So it was completely cut off from the rest of the city. It didn't feel like it was a part of the city at all. <br><br>I've been to a lot of big cities in my life, and I have never seen anything like this. This city is falling apart. It is so, so dirty. It's really unhealthy. Honestly, it made me feel sick to be there. I have never encountered so much garbage and mold and mildew and rot. Honestly, everything about New Orleans felt like it was falling apart. The people, the government, the infrastructure, the environment. Honestly, I have never seen anything like it. <br><br>I really didn't like New Orleans. I've never seen a city that was so neglected and ignored and left to rot. I've never felt so scared or threatened or uncomfortable. I've never seen a group of people who were so miserable and resentful. I've never seen so much garbage and filth and decay. I have no plans to return and I would never recommend this place to anyone.