I simply cannot talk about my New Orleans adventures without giving Le Pavillon the love letter it deserves. This hotel was GORGEOUS—like, absurdly so. Statues? Everywhere. Lush greenery? Check. A lobby that looks like it was yanked straight out of an 18th-century French chateau? Oui, oui, mon amour. And unlike so many hotels that have been stripped of their personality in the name of “modernization” (cough corporate beige hellscapes cough), Le Pavillon has character. You walk in, and you feel something. In my case, that feeling was a mix of awe, delight, and the sneaking suspicion that a powdered-wig-wearing aristocrat might saunter by at any moment. The Rooms: Small, Cozy, and
Tag: travel
A New Orleans Cemetery and Old Lady Skelly
Sooo… I took a bus tour in New Orleans. Look, I know what you’re thinking: A bus tour? Really? But hear me out. New Orleans is a hotbed of culture, history, and voodoo-adjacent spookiness. And how else was I supposed to soak it all in while digesting 3,000 calories of beignets? So yes, we boarded the bus, listened to our microphone-wielding guide, and rolled through the city in air-conditioned comfort. And yes, I fell asleep. (Don’t judge me; I’m powered by sugar and vibes, and sometimes the sugar runs out.) But when we stopped at one of those iconic cemeteries, the whole
Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop: Where Pirates, Ghosts, and Hurricanes Collide
If you’ve ever thought, Wow, I wish I could drink something that tastes like Hawaiian Punch but could legally power a lawnmower, then boy, do I have a drink for you. But first, let’s talk about Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop because the history of this place is wilder than a Florida Man on meth riding an alligator. Lafitte’s is allegedly the oldest bar in America, and it looks like it. The building is so old, it makes your grandma’s creaky knees look futuristic. Founded in the 1700s, it was supposedly a cover for Jean Lafitte—a pirate, smuggler, and general bad boy with a
I Went to Café du Monde, and Now I’m Addicted to Beignets (and Powdered Sugar)
Here’s the thing about New Orleans: It’s a city built on poor decisions. And when I say poor decisions, I mean of the delicious, deep-fried, definitely-not-calorie-conscious variety. Enter Café du Monde, the OG beignet capital of the world. It’s a tourist trap, yes. But unlike most tourist traps (looking at you, chain restaurants in Times Square), this one is 100% worth the hype and the powdered sugar lung damage. First Impressions: Powdered Sugar Enthusiast Paradise The man and I approached Café du Monde with the determination of people who’ve just Googled “New Orleans must-eats” and believe in following the will of the
I’m Still Not Over Emeril’s Fried Chicken and Mac & Cheese, And You Shouldn’t Be Either
Hello, beloved readers, and welcome to today’s episode of “Things I Have Yet to Forgive,” starring none other than Emeril Lagasse and his apparently heartless decision to deprive us of his most glorious menu item. Let’s get one thing straight. I’m usually a pretty chill girl. I can let things go. I’ve forgiven high-waisted jeans for being uncomfortable. I’ve forgiven Blockbuster for its decades-long monopoly on movie rentals. I’ve even forgiven Disney for the live-action Lion King (well, I’m trying). But taking off Emeril’s fried chicken and mac and cheese? Oh no. Not in this lifetime, sweetie. The Entree of My Dreams
The National WWII Museum in New Orleans: A Masterclass in History and Humanity
Let’s be clear: if you find yourself in New Orleans, skipping the National WWII Museum is not an option. I don’t care if you came for the beignets, the booze, or to commune with the ghost of Marie Laveau. Take a break from getting your palm read in the French Quarter and step into this world-class museum, because it’s going to take you on a journey through history that will leave you shaken, educated, and—let’s be honest—more than a little entertained. The museum does not half-ass its job of explaining one of the most complex and devastating events in modern history. It is sprawling—five
Palm Readings in New Orleans
Ahhh, New Orleans—the city of jazz, ghosts, and enough fried food to make your arteries weep for mercy. It had been on my bucket list forever, and I finally made it! A city that wraps its sticky, humid arms around history and haunts, where Bourbon Street smells like the desperate aftermath of one-too-many-bad-decisions, and honestly? I was here for it. I went full-on tourist mode and I am not sorry about it. We’re talking graveyard strolls, overpriced bus tours, and gorging on beignets like I’d never seen powdered sugar before. I partied hard on Bourbon Street, made some spectacularly poor decisions (read: paid way
National Air and Space Museum – A Museum in Washington, D.C.
I can’t believe my trip to Washington D.C. was a year ago. It seems like decades ago, an era before pandemic and a global crisis. A time when going to a museum was a fun day out and not a potential source of COVID. Le sigh. However, I can’t wax too lyrical about the National Air and Space Museum. Not because it wasn’t cool but because… I’m a terrible travel blogger. My problem is I go to museums and take a lot of pictures of crap without actually going through and figuring out exactly *what* the crap is. And being
Memories from Huntington Beach, California
My trip to Huntington Beach feels like a million years ago. Considering that my hair is long and brown in these pictures, you could say that it was at least two years ago. But quarantine has me thinking of funner times when travel was the *thing* to do and going out where the crowds were was not a nerve wracking experience involving the possible spread of COVID-19 I remember thinking of the absurdity that surfers were out in the middle of December which would be a wish for hypothermia if they did this anywhere in Washington. I was also vastly
An Open Letter to New Orleans, Louisiana
Dear New Orleans, It’s been two years since I’ve been to visit you, and I want to go back so badly it hurts. I want to walk down Bourbon Street, step into a night club, and maybe eat some beignets. Oh, and definitely get some fried chicken because for some reason, it tastes like magic in your city. Unfortunately, Mardi Gras, spring break and COVID-19 have taken it’s toll on your city and it breaks my heart to pieces. Your city isn’t made for social distancing. It’s made for get togethers, jazz shows in small venues… and beignets. Let’s not