posted by Ashalah on destinations, Life, travel, united states, Where in the World Wednesdays

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It takes a lot for me to like a city. It has to have a certain blend of character, beauty both naturally and architecturally, culture, and people. There has to be something unique about it, something that stands out. It has to elicit that feeling from me. You know the one. That feeling of ohmygod I must live here NOW.

It takes a lot for me to like a city, and even more for me to love it. For me to dub it the best city in the US I’ve been to? That…I can’t even tell you what that takes. But New Orleans has it, and had it from the minute I stepped foot there. Last Tuesday I arrived, not knowing what to expect besides a lot of crazy fun. My friend Andy picked me up from the airport, asked me how my liver was doing and I immediately knew I was in for a wild ride; further reinforced by telling me I was going on a drinking tour of New Orleans.

We started our evening with some strawberry beer up on his roof overlooking downtown, grilling up some chicken and andouille sausage for the gumbo we were making. He taught me how to make the roux, which he stirred for 45 minutes while I chopped up the “Holy Trinity” of vegetables: celery, green pepper and onion. We put all the ingredients together and let it simmer while we watched Super Bad, a movie I’d never seen before. The night was capped off by an informal dart game and I went to bed knowing I was going to thoroughly enjoy my stay here. A big part of this because I was going to be with great company–an old friend from college that I’ve known for nearly nine years and I was about to spend a full week with him in his city.

Lucky for me I also had a good friend from New York, Heather and her boyfriend Jake, in town and Wednesday, during the day while Andy worked, I headed into the French Quarter where I drooled over the old houses, dug the live street music and the energy–the ENERGY! It was intense! I met up with Heather on Frenchman Street, just outside of the Quarter, at a small cafe where we caught up on life, our former jobs (we both used to work for the same company in the city), and how excited we were to be in this city. I continued my wanderings, snapping pictures every few steps, in awe at just how gorgeous and old everything was. I was in love with the city already.

That evening we picked up Chris, Andy’s old roommate from college, and Ana, his girlfriend, from the airport. I had never met Chris since I had transferred out before they lived together but we all hit it off instantly.This began the start of a few days of feeling like I was part of a semi-coupling with Andy since things were done with Chris and Ana and Ana’s brother Juan and his girlfriend Martine, a NOLA native. I was glad to not be the only single one there but to outsiders it clearly seemed as if we were together. They stayed the night on Weds, all of us (with the exception of Andy) camped out in the living room. We ate Andy’s gumbo, which was delicious, and hung out on his roof drinking and goofing off. During conversation it came out that neither Chris nor myself had seen Goodfellas and so we ended up watching that, despite our semi-drunken states. Of course we all passed out halfway through the movie so I still haven’t seen the whole thing. At least we tried….

We had been fairly tame with our drinking up until that point since Andy had to work in the mornings. Thursday was a whole other monster though, since no one had to work the next morning thanks to Jazz Fest starting. Thursday was spent running around NOLA’s suburbs getting my tickets, getting lost in Center City and seeing Heather again at another cafe. But Thursday night. Thursday night was…mass insanity. It started innocently enough, with a volleyball game, some delicious cajun food and a few glasses of wine. That turned into an eighties party at One Eyed Jack’s dancing away with vodka sodas in our hands and where Andy got bit on his chest by a gay man. With literal teeth marks and everything. Suddenly we’re on Bourbon Street drinking Hand Grenades, some green concoction that I’m not sure what was in it but whatever it was, it was a strong motherfucker. To top THAT off, we got a couple Hurricanes at Pat O’Brien’s to share amongst the four of us and well…let’s just say that did us all in. We danced our way back to his apartment and Andy and I “sobered up” by drinking more beer. Eventually we passed out but I was awake at four a.m., feeling like death, sweaty and vowing to twitter that I would never drink again.

But morning came and again, like a couple mornings the weekend before, I woke up, looked around wondering why I was on Andy’s bed and he was on the couch where I was supposed to be, and realized that I was still alive. That I was not hungover.

I didn’t understand it either.Apparently my body has become a rockstar at repelling hangovers.

On a side note, one thing that is amazing about this city that I noticed every single day, was just how damn proud of their city these New Orleans locals are. How in love with it they are, how they shout it from the rooftops and want you to remember it long after you leave. Of just how great of a city it is (and, oh, it is). They also are in love with the Saints; every band that played at Jazz Fest, that we saw live in the streets, every single person was so damn proud of that team for winning the Super Bowl. It was on everyone’s lips, even months later.

It takes a lot for me to like a city, and even more for me to love it, but New Orleans managed to win my heart in only a matter of hours.

…And that’s where I leave you for now. Tons more to talk about though!  Up next? Jazz fest and an entire post written about the amazing food of New Orleans!!

Tags: Friends Make My World Go \'Round, Life in Photographs, The Good Times