 |
| Strolling through Lafayette Cemetery No. 1 |
Way down in the deep, deep South
sits a city built upon only four foot of silt. Situated between the mighty
Mississippi River and the brackish water known as Lake Pontchartrain, is a
place where European charm, Southern hospitality and superstition, African lore
and the finest musicians in the world mix and mingle together to form what can
only be New Orleans.
As you might have guessed, I am
just back from my first visit to the Crescent City. It was a whirlwind trip
that began with a wonderful lunch of Po’ boys and red beans and rice at
Parasols Irish restaurant, located, since 1952, in the Irish Channel. Not
too far from the artist’s loft where we stayed, Parasol’s was the perfect way
to begin a week of New Orleans culture.
 |
| Brass Band at Jackson Square |
On day two, we took a Cemetery
tour, visited Marie Laveau and Congo Square, hopped into a voodoo shop for a
card reading, enjoyed a delicious drink called Dragon’s Breath at another
eatery called Bayou Heat, and then headed over to Jackson Square, where we
admired the beauty and peace within St. Louis Cathedral before taking a few
moments to enjoy the various musicians set up between card readers and artists
within the Square. The entire day was a whirlwind to the mind and body, a
delight to the senses.
On day three, we began with incredible,
indescribable doughnuts from the District on Magazine Street, and then we
headed over to Lafayette Cemetery to explore and confirm the “smell of
old death” before we took a tour of the Garden District. As I do in all places
that I roam, I made a cat friend, he obviously hailed from one of those
magnificent homes. Lucky Cat! When our tour was complete, we paused our
endless exploring to ride the St. Charles Avenue Streetcar Line, the oldest
streetcar line in America. On the way back to the Quarter, dinner was
prepared by Pat O’Brien’s, where we sampled their famous Hurricanes, muffaletta
sandwiches, shrimp and grits, and some delicious gumbo. Then, we rounded off
the third night in the sometimes macabre city with a Ghost/Vampire Tour which
lead us historically and creepily around the darker sections of the Vieux
Carré. So exhausted were we from the constant trek through block
after block, we hailed a cab to get back to the loft in record time for some
much- needed rest.
Day four continued our endless
trek and mission to see and do everything in New Orleans. We realized
very early on that it would be impossible to do everything we wanted, but we
were determined to fit in as much seeing and doing as we possibly could.
So, on the fourth day we began with beignets and café au lait at Café Du Monde
before we boarded the steamboat Natchez for a jazzy, yet peaceful ride down the
Mississippi. With snowballs in our hands and the river of mud beneath us,
we enjoyed a tranquil afternoon in slow motion. After arriving back
on land, we hopped aboard another Street car and rode down to the French Market
to peruse and look for snacks to take on the picnic we had planned for the next
day. Being easily distracted, our French Market tour was only
semi-successful in that…yes, we found what we were looking for, but no we
didn't look at everything because I stumbled upon Jimmy Buffett’s
Margaritaville. It’s well-known that I have a physical incapability of
ignoring anything Buffett. So, of course we ambled in for a nice meal and
smooth beverage called a Bama Breeze, which was served to me in a blender, a
cold libation that simply topped the perfect New Orleans October day.
We departed from New Orleans on
the fifth day, but we weren't quite ready to let the city go. (Actually,
I may never let this city go.) So for a final hurrah, we traveled the
23-mile Causeway across Lake Pontchartrain (both ways) and then steered towards
the St. Joseph’s Plantation to take their “mourning tour” and to partake of the
aforementioned picnic goodies we previously procured at the French Market. The
food was even more delicious eaten beneath a grand oak tree.
Since my return, I have been
asked countless times what my favorite part of the trip was, and my answer
seems to be surprising to most. What I most enjoyed was the
spirit and joy of the people, and the way everyone seemed to be looking out for
the person standing beside them. A friendly nod, smile or greeting was on the
face of practically every soul we passed on the street or met on the bus. I
found human kindness, once synonymous with the word Southern, and a laidback graciousness
that is seldom (if, at all) seen in other southern cities of today. My favorite thing about New Orleans is the
way this special gathering of people embraces difference and diversity, as they
instantly absorb all into their distinctly unique culture.
To those that know me, I can
sum up my entire trip with one comparison. If I were a city, New Orleans
in all of its embodiments would be me, and although it’s not my place of
residence, New Orleans could easily be the place I soon will call home.
