New Orleans

After doing some traveling in the past few weeks, I have definitely caught the bug again. I'm sure no one's reading this, but I'm updating anyway, as a way of coping with my excitement for future overseas travels that will interest other people.

A few weeks ago, my friend Jeff and I went to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. It was on a Tuesday in the middle of the semester, so I only went for a couple days, but it was a wonderful trip. I've never been to New Orleans before, and I absolutely loved what I saw, though I'm sure my impression was skewed by the party atmosphere all around. Everywhere we went in the city, people were celebrating. Even when we deviated from the major parades, there were small ones, as well as barbecues, street dancing, and gatherings of all sorts.

I'm particularly excited that I got to go to New Orleans this year, immediately after the Saints won the Superbowl. Everywhere we went, people were shouting "who dat!", often right in our faces. We even got to see the Superbowl trophy and one of the Saints players at a parade. The excitement permeated the city, and it made me genuinely happy for them that their team had won. Clearly, this win really mattered to people.

The day I arrived, I took a bus from the airport to the French Quarter and met up with Jeff and Eric, Jeff's friend from high school, who now lives in New Orleans and works for the local NBC affiliate. Jeff almost immediately handed me a Piña Colada in a light up cup, which I carried down to the river, along with my backpack and sleeping bag. We met up with our friend Cait from Wesleyan, who was there visiting her brother. Cait, her brother, and her brother's friend were at Lindi Gras - the pre-party for the Zulu parade, as far as I can gather. We stood next to the stage for about ten minutes, before Ludacris came on and sang a couple of songs. So there I was, less than an hour after getting off my plane, listening to Ludacris and drinking a Piña Colada out of a light up cup at 2 pm on a Monday. I knew it was going to be a good trip.

For dinner, me, Jeff and Eric walked to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant Jeff had eaten at years earlier, where we ordered plates and plates of cajun fare, and ate some of the best sausages and fried chicken I've ever had. I also discovered that I like crab, which was pretty exciting. We spent the evening at the Orpheus parade, but left early, as we were all ready for bed and planned to get up early the next morning.

The next day, which was actual Mardi Gras, Jeff and I woke up early and took a gorgeous walk through the Garden District to get to the Zulu Parade. Though it was before 10 am, we were clearly late to the party. Families and other groups of people had been there for hours and were barbecuing and drinking like it was dinner time. We met up with Cait, her brother, and her brother's friends and spent a stupid amount of time shouting at passing floats in exchange for beads, cups and a boggling array of useless plastic items.

We spent the afternoon on several-hour long walk through the entire city, following Cait's brother and his friends to a barbecue at their friends' house. Though I had no idea where I was going, or even what the end goal of the journey was, I really enjoyed getting to see so many different neighborhoods of the city. We walked, in a very roundabout way, all the way from the top of the Garden District, through downtown and the French Quarter and into another neighborhood I don't know the name of. On our way, we saw the Madri Gras Indians, a small group of people who dress up in amazing, homemade costumes every year to honor the Indian tribes that allowed escaped Louisiana slaves to live among them. Very interesting and beautiful.

It was also really interesting to see the inside of a few different homes. Clearly, the property values have sunk, because people only a couple years older than me were living in beautiful houses and apartments. On the flip side, in some neighborhoods I saw, at least a third of the houses remained destroyed, and signs honored those who had died in the Hurricane.

After resting for awhile at the barbecue, Jeff, Cait, and I decided to pay our requisite tourist dues and head to Bourbon Street, home of giant beers, 24-hour-a-day bars, and middle-aged men yelling "show me your tits." It was an all-around disgusting place, but fun to see once. We ate dinner with Eric at Port o' Call, also in the French Quarter, which supposedly has the best burgers in the city. Though I have no basis for comparison, I can say that our dinner was definitely worth the two hour plus wait. The hamburgers were huge and delicious and came with amazing baked potatoes.

After that, we walked to another neighborhood nearby to meet up with my friends Sarah and Zak, recent Wesleyan alumni who moved to New Orleans after graduation. Though we were only a few blocks away from Bourbon Street, the scene was completely different. There was no dearth of partying, but in place of trashy tourists, the neighborhood was filled with live music and hipsters decked out in crazy Mardi Gras costumes. I wish I could have stayed longer at Zak's apartment, but my friends were more than ready for bed. Still, it was great to see friends and get an idea of life after Wesleyan for people interested in places besides New York and Boston.

Jeff and I woke up at 4:30 that morning to catch our cab. We stopped at the famous beignet place on the river (open 24/7), leading to one of the messiest, greasiest, and most delicious breakfasts I've had in awhile. As I waited to board my plane, the flight attendant came on the microphone and said, "we thank you for coming to visit our city. We'd like to remind you that Mardi Gras is over and it's time to get back to the real world." Hopefully, I'll have the chance to visit New Orleans again, when it is a bit more like "the real world."