To spend time in New Orleans y'all.
13 dollars gave me a bottle of water, one banana and an egg, cheese and sausage biscuit at New Orleans International Airport. And not even close to being as tasty as the different, much cheaper, meals I have had these last few days. Including the alligator balls. For some reason airports tends to jack the prices up high and still have a quality below average.
Still feeling slightly drunk I got to the airport before the sun came up and are now shifting into my LA outfit. Yes, the end of my travels is here, but I still got 24h to rock in Los Angeles. After rocking for 144 hours in New Orleans.
We arrived late on a Tuesday evening, almost two hours delayed, and danced on the street/pavement in anticipation for the ride. Little did I know what I was in for.. When we arrived to the house it was packed. Even the empty room just waiting for Keelys return had a good portion of people and bicycles. After my first Louisiana meal (that is if I don’t count the Popeyes on the airport in Texas) of red beans and rice it was important to keep up with the beer. And beer it was.
A random walk in the night after a carbomb (shot of baileys dropped in a glass of Guiness) showed me parts of the city, and even though it was more or less dead I already then fell in love with it. Then when I fell asleep on the airmatress I felt even better.
Maybe I would have seen more of the city centre if I would have been a tourist stayin’ at a hostel. But who care about the city centre and the French quarter with it’s jacked up prices and bad food when the best pancakes, donuts, breakfast, bacon, grits, chicken, jambolaya, po-boys and rubens are elsewhere? And during my first breakfast in New Orleans at Betsys pancake house, enjoying the bacon until it’s very last piece, I couldn’t help feeling excited, and worried, when the Tornado warning siren went off.
Since I was with real New Orleaners and they didn’t seem to worry, I couldn’t show my true concern. And the tornado actually only gave me a little bit of wet shoes, nothing I haven’t been able to handle before. After that first day I got to see some of New Orleans finer and wetter days during these times of the year. Since the city is below sea level, a wet time is wet indeed and that is also the reason for them having the tombs in the cemeteries above ground.
The weekend I was there we actually didn’t spend in New Orleans but in Margos’ parents house in Lafayette. It was International Festival Louisiana 2013 and, as with all festivals, that meant live music, festival food and beer. And being in America and all, of course we had to do some jellyshots. I was more or less The Tourist during this weekend. Especially when it all came down to parties after the festival and I finally got to a party with a beer keg. Happy, happy tourist swede.
My last day in New Orleans was maybe one of the best days. Keely, this wonderful host of mine, showed me lakeside of the city where also the university was – making the urge to study even stronger, to continue the day with the citys’ best coffee shop, USA second biggest park, ferry and supper. With beer. With wine. With me learning to shotgun a beer.
Ignorant as only a tourist can be I went to New Orleans for a good amount of fun and beer, little did I know that I would, once again, get my heart stolen. I know, it's starting to be a little bit of cliche. But New Orleans didn't only steal my heart, it also took my taste buds.
