After an eight-hour bus ride across the Gulf of Mexico from Houston, the Greyhound rolled into New Orleans. I stepped off at the terminal and walked toward the hostel where I would be staying for the next few days. A bit of culture shock set in, and for the first time in a US city, I felt slightly uncomfortable. The walk continued through unfamiliar streets until I reached the hostel, an older-style building with a 16-bed dorm located in a separate structure out the back. Walking through the courtyard, I noticed strings of colourful beads hanging everywhere, a familiar symbol of New Orleans. Bags were dropped, plans were considered, and the size and energy of the city felt overwhelming at first.
About half an hour later, another Australian checked in from Brisbane, Brendan. We started chatting and quickly realised we had similar plans and were staying for roughly the same amount of time. With that settled, we hopped on a trolley and headed downtown toward Bourbon Street.
New Orleans is an incredible city, rich with culture and heavily influenced by its French and Cajun roots. An old-world feeling lingers throughout the streets. Jumping off near Bourbon Street, we decided to explore some of the historic cemeteries nearby. Walking among above-ground tombs marked with voodoo symbols created an eerie but fascinating experience, layered with history.
The walk continued back toward Louis Armstrong Park, where we wandered around, took a few photos of the statue, and then made our way back toward Bourbon Street for an early dinner. Acting on recommendations from my cousins in Texas, we stopped at one of the city’s oyster bars. Brendan struck up a conversation with the oyster shucker, a local who knew the city inside out. Highly skilled and incredibly fast, he explained that he was regularly sent to Washington to work at the White House. Watching him work made it obvious why. We ordered a po’boy, gumbo, and oysters, and soaked in the atmosphere.
Advice from the oyster shucker pointed us toward Frenchmen Street, known for its live music scene and located away from the more tourist-heavy Bourbon Street. A cab ride later, we wandered from bar to bar before settling into one where Washboard Chad and his band were playing. His main instrument was a washboard, played with rings on his fingers, and the music was fantastic. The night continued at The Spotted Cat, where another jazz band took the stage. Street performers appeared along the walk back, with people dancing freely in the streets. During summer, New Orleans must be absolute chaos in the best possible way.
After a 2am finish, heading back to the hostel felt like the right decision, with plans to wake early and explore more the following day.
A sleep-in followed before hopping back on the trolley to wander the French Quarter. Lunch was grabbed along the way, followed by a visit to a museum showcasing exhibits on Mardi Gras and the devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina. Both were eye-opening and deeply informative. The day slipped by quickly, and dinner time soon approached, followed naturally by another visit to Frenchmen Street for more live jazz.
Originally booked for two nights, the stay was extended by another evening, with plans to check out late and catch an 11pm bus onward to Florida.
Monday was spent at the National World War II Museum, offering an in-depth look at the American perspective of the war. The exhibits were extensive and incredibly well done.
With Brendan meeting up with friends later and a craving for more oysters setting in, Bourbon Street was revisited briefly before returning to the hostel. Goodbyes were said, and the next leg of the journey began with a late-night Greyhound bound for Orlando, and Universal Studios.
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