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If you know me, you know I’m not happy unless I have a countdown. As soon as I came back from South Dakota, I was looking forward to our family trip to New Orleans aka NOLA, New Orleans, Louisiana.
My primary goal was to eat. Good food, and lots of it. Eat my way from one end of the city to the other.
It did not disappoint. Spoiler alert – I was ridiculously successful, as my scale will attest to.
Actually, the primary reason for going was a cousin of Zung’s was getting married. The middle of three boys, and he was the first to get married. Weddings are such statements of optimism. Plus, there was all that food to be eaten in NOLA.
I’ve never been to NOLA before. Zung has, a couple of times. The kids and I would be NOLA virgins though.
I did a lot of research and hunting of deals and ultimately booked the Hotel Mazarin. I really wanted to stay in the French Quarter because, well, if I have to explain why, you should probably stop reading right now. Really, is there anywhere else to stay on your first visit to NOLA? The answer to that would be, no.
I researched the food endlessly. I also wanted to catch some good jazz. I wasn’t quite as successful at that.
I asked everyone I knew what kind of tips they could give me. Some were good and some were less so.
I was warned that the streets were dirty. Filthy. I shouldn’t wear my good shoes. I went out and bought a pair of wedges for walking because you don’t try to drive a car in the French Quarter. Not unless you like going very, very slowly and having virtually no where to park. Most everything was in walking distance. I then talked to a couple of people who again warned me about how dirty the streets were. The picture they painted made me not want to expose any part of my feet, so I went out and bought another pair of “shoes.” The other shoes in my closet revolted, saying they are not really shoes, they are footwear.
I’d have to agree.
I came home from DSW and told Zung I was all ready for the Ugly Shoe party next year.
The wedding was on Nov. 3rd. We decided, as NOLA virgins, to arrive on Halloween and experience Bourbon Street on Halloween. This particular experience wasn’t on my bucket list. It is now. I got to cross it off right away. How cool is that?
The boys spent the night at our house. Susie was not going to arrive until the next day. I woke up at 6 and did my morning yoga. We pack the car (and wonder how we will ever fit Susie and her bag in when we return) and managed to leave by 9 am. We swung by the library to drop off the boys’ mail in ballots for the election. We would be back in time to vote on the 6th, IF everything went the way it was supposed to. Having been on a flight where I missed my connection and I had to spend an unplanned night in Miami, I was not leaving anything to chance. This election was supposed to be a close one, so Zung and I voted early. It was not close at all. It was a walk away.
But, I digress.
We park the car in long-term parking and then skip the shuttle and just walk to the terminal. Zung has already done online check in the day before and has our boarding passes. We check our bags and then do what we always do before we fly out on vacation. We eat breakfast at Chef Jimmy’s.
The usual suspects.
Note to self: buy Nicholas more razors for Christmas.
Note to self: buy Patrick a whole shirt.
I had my usual Sunrise Mimosa (or two). That’s actually not what’s it’s called, but it looks like it should be.
We buy magazines (People is my guilty pleasure), and board the plane. It is an uneventful flight (thank God, I hate eventful flights).
There it was, a foodies fantasyland. Let the eating of vast quantities of insanely good food begin!