For the 85th time I begged to know where we were going. Nathan refused to budge and even made me close my eyes whenever we passed a telltale road sign. Finally, my internal compass kicked in and I realized we were driving east. To New Orleans. Unbeknownst to me, my love had planned an entire weekend seeped in Cajun culture, complete with sightseeing, live music and more seafood and French pastry than I could dream of.
We pulled up to a breathtakingly beautiful hotel, a white jewel set in the midst of high rises and bustling streets. A gloved, tailed and top-hatted doorman took my hand and helped me from the car. We dumped our luggage in the room and immediately took off exploring, like two five-year-olds racing each other down silent, brocaded hallways. The elegance was magnificent. Heavy draperies, fresh flowers and hand-painted details adorned every inch of the place. We stumbled down forbidden stairwells, danced to the thrums of wedding reception music vibrating through every floor, and feasted on complimentary PB&J and hot chocolate in our jammies.
Every night at 10 pm a bedtime snack of sandwiches, milk and cocoa is laid out in the lobby, and guests have a PJ party.
There was even art on the ceiling!
Such an exquisite elevator
Our weekend was packed, mostly with food. We breakfasted at a delicious French bakery, where Nathan died and went to heaven over the raspberry tarts.
We spent an afternoon at a fabulous WWII museum, spellbound in a Tom Hanks 4D film that literally transported us into the streets of Berlin. Then it was off to a dinner of crawfish and goat cheese crepes, a stroll through the French Quarter accentuated by spurts of live jazz and the lively bantering of locals at a moonlit market, and unbelievable cafe au lait and beignets at the famed Cafe du Monde. We walked home through Bourbon Street and barely made it out alive, and that's all I'll say about that.
Muriel's for dinner
6 pm, and the party begins.
Perfectly cast musicians.
Nate's beignets and chocolate milk
On Sunday I convinced Nathan that seafood is just as good at breakfast time. Cheddar grits and seafood omelet? There are no words.
He played it safe with steak.
NOLA's most popular form of transportation
The party never ends.
I love New Orleans. I love the architecture; whole neighborhoods in rainbows of color where no two houses are alike. I love the festivity and the beauty and tradition. I especially love the food. And I love my husband who, after nearly three years, has never let the honeymoon die.