New Orleans was everything I had imagined and then some. We did some exploring in the Garden District - an area of New Orleans with some of the best preserved historic Southern mansion in the US. But the French Quarter was where we felt at home. The air was thick with history. The streets echoed with the thousands of feet that had once trod on their stones. The buildings teased and taunted with the stories that were held within their walls.
We rode streetcars and riverboats. We had beignets and cafe au lait. We saw the Superdome. We visited the site of the Battle of New Orleans. We had a drink in the bar that was once the Pirate Jean Lafitte's blacksmith shop. But one of the most memorable things we did was visit the cemeteries. (Go figure....) The crowding of souls contained in the walls of those cemeteries could be felt even in the heat of the day. But the cemeteries were neither sorrowful nor gloomy but almost had an air of gaiety about them. Perhaps a perpetual party was taking place - it was once a Southern tradition to enjoy a picnic lunch at the cemetery. Relaxing and passing the time on the ancestors' graves. Perhaps those picnics were still taking place....