I’ve been very quiet about my trip to New Orleans. It’s just so hard to put into words the extreme incredibleness of the adventure. When I do try to verbalize my experience, I just sink, frustrated - you don’t know, you weren’t there!
I look at my pictures and think, “These don’t even come close!”
I mean, what words express the random wonder of color and happenstance that is the crescent city? How do I begin to explain the intense chemistry I feel with N’awlins when I can hardly explain it myself?
From start to finish, Stephanie and I were on our ‘game’. From that first fluffy, buttery omelet at the Camellia Grill to the tacky rotating bar and its tacky patrons at the Carousel Lounge, we ROCKED New Orleans.
Again, I am faced with the infuriating impossibility of putting this experience into words!
Is there any possible way to explain how surreal it was to share a walking tour of the Garden District with Nicholas Cage? And on the same day, attend a perfect wedding? - the hurricane brought waters that made City Park lush with green, and Tracey and Jesse were radiant.
There were the girls we met at the wedding, who joined us for a night out in the Faugbourg Marigny district. We saw Johnny G. at Lafitte’s, and ran into other wedding goers at the Apple Barrel, where we partied til the band stopped playing, then had 4a.m. beignets at Cafe du Monde.
The threat of Hurricane Dennis kept the city eerily quiet for the whole weekend. Lots of people left town, and all that remained were die-hards like us.
But that didn’t stop us from taking a swamp tour!
The duldroms set it on Sunday morning when Stephanie flew back home. I had the rest of the day to kill, but I felt really down. We had such a perfect weekend, and I guess I was just sad to see it go. It also felt really weird to be there on my own. I took a drive around town, stopping by a few old haunts like Audubon Park and the Lebanon Cafe. I couldn’t believe I had to go back to Austin. The adventure was over, and reality was knocking on my door with a heavy thud.
The strange part is that I felt like I was leaving home.
I think part of my sadness had to do with low serotonin, the end result of a weekend of culinary indulgence. Which is why I spent part of Sunday afternoon at Whole Foods collecting a miriad of fruit and vegetables to munch on throughout the day. I even spied someone from “Rasputin’s Vodka Bar” who Stephanie and I people-watched the night before.
“Jeez,” I thought, “it’s like I live here!”
I wish.
So yesterday I get a call from my friend, Matt, suggesting we take a bike ride around town. He hadn’t seen my new wheels, yet, and I’m all about cruising around on the new bike. In search of an adventure, I asserted that we avoid destinations we’ve been to before. Our travels took us to East Austin, where we found Nubian Queen Lo-La’s soul food kitchen on Rosewood and Chicon, whose purple decor caught both of our attentions.
The place is the size of my bedroom, with only three tables, and we were the only customers (they let us park our bikes inside). The shelves were covered in framed photos of (presumably) the owner’s family. Mardi Gras beads hung from the ceiling.
The best part about Nubian Lo-La, aside from her purple hair, is that she had a dream (which she told us about) and her restaurant was it. We were inside someone’s dream! Both the food and gospel music reflected her dream. What’s not to love?
(Admittedly, we were both worried about the future of Lo-La’s, but I was really happy to find this article, which suggests to me that the Queen might be around to fill our tummies for many years to come.)
Austin is no New Orleans, but it has its own color and texture and possibility. There are plenty of strangers to meet and curiosities to explore.
What made New Orleans really special was the quality time I had with my sister. I’m so glad I was able to share the experience with her. It’s a special kind of awesome that’s hard to top. But I’ll keep on trying. Even if that does mean I’m left speechless from time to time.
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