#gumbohouse

The Hotel Mazarin provides an amazing breakfast – a help yourself buffet spread over several tables in a room just off the courtyard.  There are eggs several ways, croissants, bagels, a selection of fruit, cereal, toast, muffins, breakfast meats, juices, pancakes, French toast, yogurt, and more. And the coffee is fabulous.

I fill a plate and a cup and look for a spot in the busy courtyard.  I end up sharing a table with a mother and daughter from Connecticut who give me tips about things to do and places to go.  I appreciate the advice, but already have a long list of tips and suggestions from friends and family.  It seems that everyone wants to chime in with advice when they hear you are planning a visit to New Orleans.

After breakfast I grab a book and take a seat in the lobby to wait for my friend, Madeleine, who is due to arrive at ten. Back when I met Madeleine, she hated her name and went by Lynn. She has since grown to appreciate Madeleine and uses it exclusively.  I have tried to adapt but end up calling her Lynn most of the time.  If I saw her more often maybe I would do better.

We met in a Social Security Claims Rep training class in Chicago in 1976 and have helped each other through marriages, divorces, births, and various adventures and traumas. We text often but live so far apart we only see each other every few years.  I’m looking forward to hanging with her for a few days. When I started this journey, I was happy to have a little alone time, but after ten days of solo roadtripping I’m ready for company.  

As I wait, I make a list of all the sights, foods, and activities that have been recommended by friends and family:

·       Shaya (a restaurant in the Garden District)

·       Café du Monde for the beignets

·       Gumbo House for the gumbo, duh

·       Central Grocery for the muffuletta sandwich

·       Peche Seafood Grill because a friend’s friend, Tim, works behind the bar

·       Bourbon Street at night (check – did this last night) (okay, it was a cursory visit, but I’m good)

·       French Quarter exploration

·       Garden District ditto

·       Ghost tours, plantation tours, swamp tours, cemetery tours

Many, many people have told me how much they love this city.  But a fair number of others have shrugged and said it was nothing special. I’m looking forward to making my own assessment.

Lynn arrives on schedule. It is wonderful to see her; it’s been far too long. She has one tiny suitcase, so it doesn’t take long for her to move in.

In less than an hour we are heading out to explore the French Quarter.  We are lucky in our weather – sun and blue skies yet not too hot or humid. What fun it is, sauntering through shop after shop, examining the unusual merchandise, much of which is unique to this city.  One place sells nothing but Mardi Gras masquerade masks, another specializes in extravagant (truly over the top) lamps and chandeliers, another specializes in elaborate and very expensive Christmas ornaments.  Another shop sells dolls, yet another cigars.  There are dozens of art galleries, antique stores, and more voodoo paraphernalia shops than could possibly be necessary, or so I hope. The more mundane and eclectic gift shops sell costume jewelry, plaques, wall art, furnishings, pralines, Tabasco sauces, glassworks, toys, books, dish towels, beignet mix.  

I graze through the stores, buying gifts and keepsakes while relishing the gaudy colors and even gaudier characters that surround me.  I am loving the quirkiness, the bright colors, the extravagant buildings.

We stop for lunch at the Gumbo House and are lucky to arrive before the rush, so there is only a short wait to be seated.  Our seats are in a partially covered courtyard that is part sun, part shade.  The gumbo is good, but our waiter is not terribly keen and tends to disappear for long stretches.   Even so, it’s fun to drink a little wine, eat a little gumbo and indulge in a little people watching.