Before we wandered through the beautiful Garden District of New Orleans, we kicked off our first day in the city at the great Cafe Du Monde enjoying a delicious beignet. This daunting line moved much more quickly than we expected and before we knew it we were filling ourselves with fried dough and more powdered sugar than I should admit.
Cafe Du Monde wasn’t just our first stop in the city, it was the first of many culinary adventures that we experienced all weekend. We made such a huge effort to try as much local cuisine as possible that it warrants a post of its own. Until then…
After breakfast, yes that was breakfast, we headed over to the Riverwalk Marketplace along the Mississippi, where we walked alongside the steamboats floating down the river.
One of my favorite things about New Orleans was the constant soundtrack. Along the Riverwalk, and almost everywhere, there was a group of musicians playing jazz. It isn’t uncommon to have to dodge the slide of a trombone or the horn of a trumpet while walking down the sidewalks, as more musicians probably populate the streets than tourists. It was amazing.
Did you catch the Pat’s jersey?
Our next stop was right across the street in Jackson Square, where we admired the St. Louis Cathedral and the quaint balconies that overlook the square.
Back to the Garden District. While we didn’t try the official Garden District Cemetery tour, we did walk through the cemetery, which was peaceful and full of history.
While in the neighborhood we also stepped into a little art gallery. The man inside taught us about the architecture and the culture of the neighborhood and how it evolved over the years. He also gave us the inside scoop about certain celebrity trivia, without which I wouldn’t have known that one of my photos was of the house from Benjamin Button.
On our way back to the hotel we came across a piece of graffiti that really jumped out at me. I snapped a picture as I reacted and before my mind could tell my feet to stop walking. At first I thought my reaction was influenced by the message. I wondered who wrote it and why, when they wrote it and if it pertained to a particular set of events or if it was just a random piece of ‘art’ meant to make passersby like me think – in which case it worked. But when I got home I showed Mike the picture and he reminded me of a blog post that he wrote about this very same thing a while back.
Somewhere in the city this blood is real. When you Google this phrase his post actually comes up first. Maybe this post that I had forgotten was sitting in my subconscious?
This phrase can be found all over the city, but we can’t seem to figure out the meaning behind it, or who’s behind it.
Either way, it definitely gets you thinking…