I will never forget the drive across Lake Pontchartrain on I-10, coming out of Slidell towards the Big Easy. It was my first trip to New Orleans, and everyone in the car was absolutely jacked – with the exception of one who was afraid of bridges, of course; she seemed to dislike the ride into town. We passed an alligator sunbathing on the highway, oblivious to traffic roaring pass through the swamps before we got to the longest damn bridge any of us had ever seen. And then, like magic, we were there; the city rose from the swamplands like a beacon of light in a sea of green, a little oasis in a tropical sauna that was the Louisiana heat.
We were in town for an event being held at the Mercedes-Benz Superdome, itself quite the marvel for someone whose biggest sporting venue in their hometown is the local rec yards. At least, we thought we were in town for an event at the Superdome; what we had really come to discover was the magic of New Orleans and its mystique. No other southern city quite captures the charm and sophistication of New Orleans; Charleston has the history and Savannah has the cuisine, but New Orleans is the total package rolled into one Cajun package.
Our stay was for five days, and we had chosen to rent a house instead of going for the cheaper hotel option – better to cook meals in our own kitchen that order out every meal (before we realized the folly of that error in thinking). It was our introduction to the beautiful architecture of shotgun houses in the city, right off of Tchoupitoulas Street. The purple and gold colors were so eclectic, so distinctly Mardi Gras-inspired that you could feel the city’s heart oozing out of the old house’s creaking floors and multicolored wallpaper.
Not far from Tchoupitoulas Street is one of the city’s famed shopping districts, Magazine Street. I will admit to not having spent much time on Magazine Street, largely because I was having too much fun at the local craft brewery, New Orleans Lager & Ale (NOLA) Brewing. Their blonde ale somehow construed vague notes of chocolate; having never been much of a beer drinker prior to the trip down, I understood suddenly the appeal of drinking beer on the porch all day long to beat the heat.
The food, oh my Lord the food… Our hostess for the trip decided that our lunch at Whattaburger in Biloxi was insufficient, and that we needed to be treated to authentic New Orleans cuisine. What we got was a converted convenience store that was celling cell phones out of a corner kiosk and a delicatessen set up in the opposite corner. What the building lacked in charm, it made up for with some of the tastiest food I’ve ever eaten in my whole life. We ate there four different times, going back for their famed Étouffée over and over again. Years later, we still yearn to make the thousand-mile trip back for more of their food.
The graveyards were an out-of-this-world experience, with their gothic tombs and courtyards evoking memories of some Mary Shelley novella. We visited many on our trek through the city, when we weren’t busy taking in the sights and sounds of a city bustling with life. Just driving through town at night, seeing the lights up at Harrah’s was an experience unto itself. But of course, no trip to New Orleans is complete without stopping off in the French Quarter. We had been warned going in that it was a tourist trap, but it was a trap well worth springing.
The ambiance of jazz music being played from every open-air café near Jackson Square, the marching brass bands playing up a storm, the smell of fresh beignets from Café du Monde… it was euphoria, plain and simple. Some people are captivated by New Orleans in such a way that the city burrows into their skin, becoming part of them somehow. That was our experience with the city – the cuisine, the nightlife, the shopping, just the sheer character of the place was so ingratiating that none of us were ready to leave when our trip was finished.
What, then, would this erstwhile advocate of travel to the Big Easy recommend for other first-time visitors? For one thing, trust the advice of your host or hostess if you are staying in a rented house or condo; they know the tourist traps and they know the off-the-radar spots where the locals go, which is how we wound up enjoying our stay so much. Do not be afraid to ask for opinions; contrary to its reputation in some circles, we found the people of New Orleans to be warm, outgoing and always eager to help.
Timing is a critical part of making the most out of your trip to New Orleans. Unless you are just dying to find yourself crammed into a mass of humanity, avoid coming to town during Mardi Gras and you will have yourself a much more pleasant trip. Some of the locals we spoke to complain that the French Quarter in particular can become quite unfriendly during the event, but that the rest of the year was much more amenable to visitors. Be forewarned however, unless you are taking a trip during the late fall, winter or early spring, you are liable to roast alive in the climate. New Orleans can feel as miserable weather-wise as it does awesome travel-wise.
Speaking of the French Quarter, do not let its touristy reputation put you off of traveling there; the Quarter is absolutely worth the trip to see the old-style architecture, the shops and to just take in the sights and sounds. My favorite experience of the entire week was sitting on a bench in Jackson Square listening to the music enjoying my hurricane – you have to try a hurricane at least once in town, it’s like a rule – just absorbing the town’s energy. That’s what New Orleans has to offer more than anything else, at the end of the day: an energy unlike any other town in the country.
