We spent a week in Florida recovering from and digesting Bolivia with various family and friends – Orlando, Neptune Beach, Destin, and Pensacola. We swam in two oceans, ate local seafood, drank local beer, and enjoyed the company. Many thanks to everyone who gave us a place to crash!

From Pensacola we headed west along the Gulf Coast of Alabama and Mississippi, stopping for lunch in Fairhope, AL (Panini Pete’s – Victor had an outstanding two-tomato sandwich with house-made mozzarella). The drive on US90 is not the fastest, especially through all of the small coastal communities of Mississippi, but it’s worth it to take the time. We also avoided the Lake Pontchartrain causeway coming into New Orleans on 90, which I was very happy about. The lake is only about 11 feet deep, but the causeway is over 20 miles long. 

New Orleans marked our first foray into Airbnb. We stayed in a converted double shotgun house in Mid-City, and it was perfect. When the owners bought the house a few years ago, it had been abandoned and disconnected from all utilities since Katrina. They’ve done an awesome job of repairing and restoring it; it’s very colorful and very comfortable.

Mid-City is, unsurprisingly, pretty much in the middle of everything. I had been to New Orleans once before, about four years ago, but never got outside the French Quarter, so was excited to see a little bit more of the city where people actually live, work, and eat. We only had three days but I think we did a pretty good job of balancing the “must-see” tourist attractions with more out of the way gems. 

Our first night in town, we got Po’Boys at Parkway Tavern – shrimp for me and surf and turf (shrimp and roast beef with gravy ) for Victor. They were massive and delicious. It was the first of many excellent recommendations from our host, Brian. “What do you like?” he had asked us, standing in front of the black-and-white map of the city in his living room. We offered “food” and “jazz” both of which deserved and got big eye rolls. He pointed us to Frenchmen Street for music, and a quick Google search over dinner yielded instant results – Mark O’Connor was playing at the Snug Harbor in just a few hours. It’s not every day you get front row seats to see a bluegrass legend, and I’m so glad we didn’t pass on the chance to see him; it was a really fun show, and his first in New Orleans. Before the show we killed time walking up and down the street. We bought a poem from a girl who looked like Lena Dunham – she and two others sat behind old typewriters between jazz clubs, smoking hand-rolled cigarettes and living the dream. “I couldn’t be so creative on demand!” Victor marveled, reading our freshly minted poem (Cast Iron Skilket – Lena had one tattooed on her arm). “Well I fell into a vat of toxic waste and came out this way,” she replied with a wry smile. Poets. 

We had a drink and listened to a set in the Spotted Cat across the street from Snug Harbor before our concert. There’s no cover, and the bar is cash-only and very reasonably priced (by the way, the local beer is A-BEE-ta, not A-BYE-ta). We found ourselves back at the Spotted Cat the next day as we ran from awning to awning in the pouring rain. They weren’t open yet, but we stood under the awning talking to a bar back (we think his name was Ernie), a close talker a little unsteady on his feet. We watched a half-naked man stagger down the middle of the street, ankle deep in rain. In one hand he carried a bottle of something orange; in the other, a wash cloth he used to periodically scrub his armpits. He was, fortunately, wearing a helmet. 

Our day in the French Quarter was primarily spent eating and trying to stay dry. We had planned to start the morning at Café du Monde, but by the time we took the street car from Mid-City and walked along the river from Harrah’s, the line was wrapped around the building. We walked a block over and ate beignets at a different place and I think I liked them better than Café du Monde. They were more of a laminated dough (like croissants) and impossibly light. The first rainstorm started as we sipped iced coffee. We walked the around Jackson Square and the French market and then walked about a mile to the St. Roch market for lunch. We learned from Ernie that St. Roch (pronounced Rock, not Roshe) was a fish market pre-Katrina, and was empty for a long time before it opened in its current form. There are 13 different vendors and I’d have eaten at every single one if I had time or room in my stomach. I ended up with a Haitian fritai, a little sandwich of fried plantain with pork, avocado, pickled veggies, and a mango sauce. For dessert, macarons and an almond cupcake, along with some excellent iced coffee. 

We spent the evening in Mid-City, with dinner at MOPHO, Vietnamese fusion recommended by Brian. It was not the pho and bun we’re used to in NoVA, but it was very delicious. I had the Refresher pho with chicken, kale, and an egg; Victor had rice noodles with kale, roast pork, and peaches. After dinner we had amazing cocktails at Twelve Mile Limit. We’re talked to the bartender’s about how Mid-City is gentrifying in an interesting way – many of its former residents were displaced by the storm and simply never returned, and people are finally starting to come back and transform the neighborhood. There’s a brand new Whole Foods on one block; on the next, half of the houses are still abandoned. We finished the evening at Finn McCool’s, which has been named one of the best Irish bars outside of Ireland. Thank God for Uber, is all I’ll say about several pints of draught Smithwicks, a Tullamore Dew, and the Cavs losing Game 4. 

We spent the next day in the swamp at Barataria Preserve, part of Jean Lafitte National Park. Unfortunately, it poured again, and for reasons known only to God we only brought one raincoat on the hike. The camera stayed dry, and so did I from the shorts up, but poor Victor was soaked to the skin. We saw no alligators, one frog, a giant spider, and a prothonotary warbler. 

We rounded out the trip with dinner at Cochon. It’s always exciting to cross a restaurant off my bucket list, and Cochon did not disappoint. The fried alligator, pork cheeks, and catfish courtbouillon were stand-outs. 

New Orleans is a fascinating city, and the people we met were singularly friendly. I can guarantee we will be back – there is so much more to taste.