We had intended to take an Amtrak package deal and ride the train out there, but the schedule (and price) didn't really line up for what we were looking for, so we did an a la carte trip ourselves. It was a ball.
This dude was sure ready to party.
In the interest of not driving in an unfamiliar area, we stayed in a hotel on the Quarter and opted to just see what we could from walking everywhere. We arrived after midnight Sunday evening, and there were still people wandering the dark, rough roads. I could only imagine what it would have been like if it had been February.
Mardi Gras decorations were already going up and folks were gathering up Christmas lights in Jackson Square the next morning. We were out early enough to see the art vendors and fortune tellers just setting up their tables.
We wandered into the cathedral, where several other tourists were looking around and workers were picking up poinsettia plants and trying to sweep up all the dead leaves. I'd never been in a Catholic church before, and the grandiose-ness was more than I'd bargained for.
Brian asked a tour guide to tell us "everything" about the church, so we got about thirty minutes with him telling us about the history of the city and the church, including it being rebuilt several times, lessons on the portraits and statues all around, connections to the convent a few blocks away and the meaning of a lot of items in the sanctuary that us non-Catholics didn't recognize.
We tried to go to the oft-mentioned Cafe du Monde after leaving the cathedral, but the crowd was bigger than I anticipated for late on a Monday morning, so we kept wandering around. We booked a ghost tour for that evening and eventually found the Mississippi River.
Cheesin'.
We tipped a man playing gospel on a guitar who sounded (to me) a lot like Willie Nelson, and eventually found our way to a French Market Cafe. It was cold, so we went in.
Being late morning we weren't sure whether to go lunch or breakfast, so we ended up with a latte, gyro plate and side of red beans and rice to split. Of course, everything was quite good.
Myself and the latte.
We talked a little to the waiter, who told us his family was Nicaraguan, but he lived his whole life in N.O. and loved it. The first of a few friendly faces we met there.
Near the cafe was the actual French Market. Unfortunately the farmers market wouldn't set up for a few more days, but there were a lot of food and souvenir vendors set up. If we hadn't been so full, I'd have sampled a lot of the interesting looking food.
There were a lot of apartments around the Quarter, and we learned
later why signs like this were actual selling points.
We perused a few souvenir shops, including a vampire boutique, and eventually went back to the hotel to relax a little before dinner and ghost touring. In seeking out souvenirs before dinner, we ended up buying some fudge from a shop and snacking on it while we figured out which restaurant to eat at. We decided on a place called Coops for the rabbit jambalaya. It wasn't what I anticipated, but Brian loved it enough to order a second helping.
Taking our (very strong) rum-and-cokes with us, we went back to the hotel to finish them before heading to the meeting place for the ghost tour. A man from Las Vegas with a degree in French and Spanish history led us around the Quarter telling stories from N.O. history and locations. Some sent actual chills down my body (that were unrelated to the brisk evening), like the story about the Sultan's Palace massacre and the story of a man leaping from a rooftop bar following the Hurricane Katrina tragedy. But all in all, it was a very colorful lesson in local history that was interesting to compare to the version we learned at the cathedral earlier in the day.
The next morning Brian found himself in a political discussion with a man from Indiana and a man from Florida. We had to excuse ourselves to check out in time. On the (NINE HOUR) drive back to Texas, we stopped at a specialty meat market and picked up some hot sausage, rabbit and alligator (for Jacque), as well as a cooler to keep it all frozen.
But New Orleans was a fun time. If I were to go again, I'd take more photos of the residence architecture, sign up for home, vampire and/or voodoo tours, and try MORE food. I will never regret trying more foods, and there were an awful lot of ads for pralines and bread pudding that I never sampled.
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