Visiting New Orleans is like stepping into another world. Stepping off the plane I’m immediately hit with the thick humidity that smells old and familiar. Immediately I can feel myself slowing down, as if my body was syncing itself to the sultry tempo of the south. A cab ride to the Monteleone Hotel in the French Quarter and I’m completely transported into a charming, old world, Parisian setting, equipped with a carrousel in the lobby bar. And somehow I know, this is going to be an amazing trip. Perhaps it was the product of an obsession with Interview With the Vampire when I was teenager, but I had always dreamed about going to New Orleans. There was always some magnetic attraction pulling to me to the city, and having finally made the plans to spend a week there, on a solo trip, I knew I was where I needed to be, and despite my dreaming and wild imaginings, New Orleans did not disappoint.
I am, what you could call, a culture vulture, and New Orleans is like no other city in America. At 3 in the afternoon walking down the narrow streets of the French Quarter, you’ll see women standing in the doorways of old buildings in their braziers and everywhere you walk, loud thumping music permeates the corridors. I pop into an old theater but at this hour, there is no one there, so I sit for a minute in an oak-shaded courtyard, lush and green overgrown, with mesmerizing tranquility and I know that I am in for many more rare treasures such as this.
I eat dinner alone on the balcony of an old colonial building, thinking about what to do next, or see, hear, eat and drink. I day dream about about buying a plantation home with a big wrap around porch where I could sit in a white rocking chair and watch my dog sleeping peacefully, as the the warm summer rain drizzles down and I swat mosquitoes buzzing around me. The thick, warm air and magical, muted energy is intoxicating. To be continued…
Learn more about New Orleans at Foders.
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