New Orleans, LA – Part Un

On September 29, 2014 By rebeccawanderlustingIn Louisiana, US Travel5 Comments

The seven hour drive from Nashville to New Orleans was easier than we thought. The road there was lined with beautiful scenery and Krystal Burgers; what more do you need on a road trip? The seven hours went quickly and before we knew it, we were driving into NOLA as the sun was setting. The city was lit up as if in welcome and we drove into it, awe-struck. Our hotel was perfectly situated in the middle of all of the areas we wanted to explore. It looked beautiful from the outside, and I couldn’t wait to see what it had in store for us. We valeted the car, and dragged our luggage in towards the front desk. When we checked in, the front desk staff wished us a happy anniversary and informed us that we had a room upgrade, which was a wonderful surprise. We schlepped all of our luggage up to the room (working at a hotel makes me reluctant to ask for help when staying at other hotels). It was a beautiful room with a huge bed covered in cloud-like linens and a comfy arm chair in the corner. As soon as we settled in and started unpacking, there was a knock at the door. The front desk manager had brought us a bottle of complimentary champagne to help us celebrate. We toasted ourselves and got ready for dinner. The bathroom was gorgeous, covered in marble, with a huge tub and a big enough vanity so we could both primp. Once we looked presentable, we headed went out on the town. Michael had made dinner reservations at a trendy restaurant that a friend had recommended to us, called Cochon. It was walking distance to our hotel so we set out in our Friday night finest with the humidity weighing down on us like a damp wool blanket. By the time we got there, my freshly straightened hair was frizzed beyond belief but the scent of the restaurant was so enticing that it didn’t matter. We were seated at our table (a rustic wooden piece amongst a sea of identical tables), and were immediately situated with water and fresh bread rolls. We both ordered local beers and decided to order spicy fried alligator and the boucherie plate, which included a daily special of charcuterie and accouterments. The food was so delicious and flavorful. For dessert, we decided on peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream and coffee to pull us up from our food coma. The peaches tasted so fresh and the coffee hit the spot; we were ready to get back out there and explore. We wandered around the warehouse district, which was an interesting mix of industrial buildings and clubs. When we passed the Harrah’s casino, we decided to go in and each gamble $5 with the hopes of doubling our vacation budget. Surprisingly, that didn’t happen, but it was definitely an experience. Smoking was allowed in the casino, which made the air cloudy and thick. The personas of the gamblers ranged from little old ladies to cigar smoking hit men. We gingerly picked our way through the dime machines and lost all of our allotted money, then snuck back out with our heads down. After that, Michael and I decided that a night cap was in order, so we picked a bar at random and sat at a high top by the window. True to form, I had a gin and tonic, and he had a Jack and coke. We discussed our plans for the rest of our trip and people watched from the window before heading back to the hotel for the night.

We woke up the next morning to rain streaming down the windows. Michael made some coffee and we decided to venture out anyways. We huddled close under the umbrella and hurried from awning to awning. New Orleans looks so romantic in the rain, so it was an enjoyable stroll despite the weather. We walked over to Bourbon Street and marveled over the long-standing architecture that contrasted beautifully with the bright neon signs that marked each bar and club. Along the way, we realized that this particular weekend was Southern Decadence, a festival widely known as the “Gay Mardi Gras”. The banners, which hung from balconies everywhere, promised an exciting weekend. We took a lap around the French Quarter and stopped in many a voodoo shop. The oddities in the shops were all the same, but each one drew us in anyways. Once we had come back to Bourbon Street, we stopped in an unremarkable restaurant with delicious gumbo and crawfish beignets. Once we had refueled we were ready to explore more. It was still raining when we left the restaurant. We continued our wandering, peeking into the alleys that stood perpendicular to the main streets. They contained a number of things, including petite restaurants and art galleries. We stopped in the “famous” Spirits on Bourbon and tried their resurrection cocktail, served in a plastic skull complete with blue strobe light pulsing underneath. Because of the open container laws in NOLA we were able to take our drinks to go and walk towards the river. In the rain, the Mighty Mississippi looked brown and depressing. We turned around to walk back inland and ended up in Jackson Square, where a statue of Andrew Jackson stood in the middle, while the St. Louis Cathedral loomed behind it. The scene was truly stunning. A cobble stone alley ran adjacent to the cathedral; walking down it was like strolling through history. On the opposite side of the alley was William Faulkner’s House, where he wrote his first novel. The first level of the house now contains a quaint book store full of the classics. Throughout Bourbon Street and The French Quarter are small restaurants that solely serve alcoholic slushies, jello shots and pizza; aka the only things you will ever need. Michael got us two hurricanes (add an extra shot for $1, why not??) and we continued our jaunt. The streets of The French Quarter are lined with beautifully colored houses and buildings that made for a beautiful back drop to our boozy walk. We soon found ourselves in Louis Armstrong Park, named, of course, for Mr. Jazz himself. The park was gorgeous, with a stream running through it and statues of great musicians scattered throughout. We played “Only You” on my phone as we took in the loveliness of the park.

On the way back to our hotel (we decided we needed a nap before we went out for the night), we stopped at a corner store/mecca of delicious drunk food called Verti Marte. I had heard about this place from a local, which almost guarantees its five star status. We had the Jazz Sandwich, which was topped with shrimp, ham, turkey and veggies and it was heavenly. We ate it as we walked back to the hotel to nap, rally and head back out into the madness. Four hours later, we woke up. It was 11:00 PM and I was determined to go back out. Michael needed some convincing, but soon enough we were out the door and headed to Bourbon Street. Southern Decadence was in full swing, and it was not a sight for the faint of heart. Beads were flying everywhere, along with dollar bills and small samples of personal lubricant and the costumes ranged from creative and cute to one lone leather strap. We went to Maison Bourbon first, to hear some live jazz. The music was excellent and 100% worth the pricey and boring drinks. After a while, we moved on to the next bar, which featured “Huge Ass Beers”, a 32oz domestic beer of your choosing. We took to the streets, huge beers in hand, and wordlessly people watched. It was quite the spectacle. We ended the night at Mango Mango, the slushy/pizza joint. I have never had a better tasting slice of pizza at 3:00 AM.

Road Trip to Nashville and Beyond

On September 16, 2014 By rebeccawanderlustingIn Road Trip, Tennessee, US Travel1 Comment

New Orleans had always been a colorful, vivid dream of mine; it was constantly on my list of places I absolutely needed to visit. The trip was planned on a whim, when my boyfriend, Michael, and I both discovered we wanted to go there, somewhere around our sixth or seventh date. We decided to make it a road trip, because that somehow made it more adventurous.

It didn’t really sink in that it was actually happening until Michael texted me that he had booked the hotel one day, while I was at work. That’s when I started making more plans for the trip, and we added a side trip to Nashville for a night to make the drive down to New Orleans split between two days. We left the day before we planned originally, right after I got out of work.

After we picked up my luggage, we were on the highway, Nashville-bound. We listened to “Bossypants” by Tina Fey during the drive, and stopped for McDonald’s for dinner in the town of Whiteland, IN. A couple of hours after dinner is when the ride started to seem forever long. I tried to keep Michael entertained by singing all the best songs 80’s hair metal had to offer, though I’m not sure he enjoyed the show.

We arrived in Nashville, Tennessee at exactly 1:00 AM on Friday morning. The Days Inn that was to be our bed for the night was fashioned like a motel, with the room doors facing out; the kind of motel that will forever remind me of the movie “Joyride”. I briefly considered sleeping with my pink Schick razor under the pillow just in case I heard anyone whisper “Candycaaaaane” in the middle of the night. Michael saw the look on my face and immediately piled his luggage in front of the door and gave me a knowing nod.

It was exactly the fuel we needed to propel us the rest of the way to New Orleans. But first, a pit stop at Third Man Records, which was 99% of the reason we chose to stop in Nashville. Jack White’s record shop and recording studio was tucked into a side street in downtown Nashville. Michael, who is a part-time musician and full-time obsessive music fanatic, was so excited to be there that he almost vibrated right out of his Chuck’s.

When we entered the store, he drifted directly over to the selection of records, while I wandered around taking it all in. The store was full of whimsical knickknacks, like a coin operated band of monkeys and a wax press machine that made a mini guitar similar to Jack White’s. The main attraction there seemed to be a phone booth in which you could record an album and it would be pressed right there for you to take home. Sadly, Michael was too tall to fit in the recording booth with his guitar, so he passed on the opportunity. Instead, we bought a couple records and got back on the road. Needless to say, Nashville was a lovely diversion on our way to our destination.

Driving to Nashville and Beyond

On September 16, 2014September 17, 2015 By rebeccawanderlustingIn Road Trip, Tennessee, US TravelLeave a comment

New Orleans had always been a colorful, vivid dream of mine; it was constantly on my list of places I absolutely needed to visit. The trip was planned on a whim, when my boyfriend, Michael, and I both discovered we wanted to go there, somewhere around our sixth or seventh date. We decided to make it a road trip, because that somehow made it more adventurous. It didn’t really sink in that it was actually happening until Michael texted me that he had booked the hotel one day, while I was at work. That’s when I started making more plans for the trip, and we added a side trip to Nashville for a night to make the drive down to New Orleans split between two days. We left the day before we planned originally, right after I got out of work. After we picked up my luggage, we were on the highway, Nashville-bound. We listened to “Bossypants” by Tina Fey during the drive, and stopped for McDonald’s for dinner in the town of Whiteland, IN. A couple of hours after dinner is when the ride started to seem forever long. I tried to keep Michael entertained by singing all the best songs 80’s hair metal had to offer, though I’m not sure he enjoyed the show. We arrived in Nashville at exactly 1:00 AM on Friday morning. The Days Inn that was to be our bed for the night was fashioned like a motel, with the room doors facing out; the kind of motel that will forever remind me of the movie “Joyride”. I briefly considered sleeping with my pink Schick razor under the pillow just in case I heard anyone whisper “Candycaaaaane” in the middle of the night. Michael saw the look on my face and immediately piled his luggage in front of the door and gave me a knowing nod.

The next day, or later that morning I should say, we discovered a new horror. The continental breakfast included in our stay was really just a small counter with dry cereal dispensers and a coffee maker on it. I do love cereal, but I was also starving, so we opted for the Waffle House across the parking lot. It was both of our first times trying Waffle House waffles, and they did not disappoint. Plus, I love a good diner atmosphere; diners always have the best coffee and the best stackable coffee creamers. It was exactly the fuel we needed to propel us the rest of the way to New Orleans. But first, a pit stop at Third Man Records, which was 99% of the reason we chose to stop in Nashville. Jack White’s record shop and recording studio was tucked into a side street in downtown Nashville. Michael, who is a part-time musician and full-time obsessive music fanatic, was so excited to be there that he almost vibrated right out of his Chuck’s. When we entered the store, he drifted directly over to the selection of records, while I wandered around taking it all in. The store was full of whimsical knickknacks, like a coin operated band of monkeys and a wax press machine that made a mini guitar similar to Jack White’s. The main attraction there seemed to be a phone booth in which you could record an album and it would be pressed right there for you to take home. Sadly, Michael was too tall to fit in the recording booth with his guitar, so he passed on the opportunity. Instead, we bought a couple records and got back on the road. Needless to say, Nashville was a lovely diversion on our way to our destination.

Lakewood, WI

On July 23, 2014September 17, 2015 By rebeccawanderlustingIn US Travel, WisconsinLeave a comment

Lakewood, WI

My Aunt and Uncle own a cabin on Maiden Lake in Lakewood, WI. We make the four and a half hour drive up there every year for the Fourth of July. Every time we pull into the gravel driveway, I feel exalted and eager to start a long weekend of cabin bliss. It sits atop a wooded hill, its view of the lake obscured by the tall pines that surround it. There is a stone path leading down the hill to the lake; it ends at the pier, where a fishing boat and a speed boat are always tied. Further down the shore, three lawn chairs sit in a row; the ideal place for morning coffee. They sit on the perfect peninsula to wade into the lake from. The lake is always a little cool, and so clear. It’s a smaller lake, and you can see the houses on the other side. I feel very content here. It’s my happy place, and I’ve been lucky enough to come up here for the past fifteen years or so. The last six years (since I moved to Chicago), it has been a perfect and welcome escape from my hectic city life.

I think it’s the night sounds that make the difference for me between city life and lake life. When I am lying in bed in my apartment in Chicago, I hear police sirens and Metra and freight trains trundling along their tracks. By the lake, I sleep in a screened in porch and listen to the haunting cries of the loons and bellowing bullfrogs. It’s like a beautiful, natural lullaby. Although, my horror flick saturated brain always strains to hear heavy footsteps squelching through the leaves and dirt that that coat the forest floor towards where I sleep. This never actually happens.

The lake smells are equally enchanting. The lake itself smells clean and fresh and the smell of bonfires lingers all day until they start back up again at night. The general nature smell is everywhere, throughout the pine trees and the wild flowers that surround our lake house. I have to say I’d choose it over the smell of trash and hot pavement any day.

Though it has changed over the years, some things always are and always will be the same. Each year we have delicious, home cooked meals, good books, and good wine (which I didn’t always partake in, but now thoroughly enjoy). There will always some sort of water activity, like paddle boarding, kayaking, swimming (of course) and tubing. I don’t think I will ever grow out of the giddy feeling of tubing over the clear blue water, being towed behind my dad’s boat; that will never change. There will always be a trip to Sweet Memories, an ever-expanding candy store in town, that still manages to hold on to its small-town charm (complete with sour punch straws and cow tails). We also always celebrate my mom’s birthday while we’re at the lake, with streamers and party hats and cake. There is a comfort in repeating these rituals each year, and in knowing that I will be equally happy each time we are in Lakewood. Every year, I feel so very sad and desperate not to leave when our last day there approaches. However, I know that I can always come back and do it all again.

I can’t wait until next year.

Here We Go – RebeccaWanderlusting

On July 2, 2014 By rebeccawanderlustingIn Travel TipsLeave a comment

My name is Rebecca, and welcome to my new travel blog, RebeccaWanderlusting. I am travel enthusiast working my way through the hospitality industry. Seeing people from all walks of life strut through my hotel lobby with weary, travel worn smiles has re-sparked a deep lust for adventure in me. I’ve always loved to travel, but envy is a mighty kick in the ass to get you moving towards the things you want. My infatuation with travel started at a very young age.

The first trip I can remember taking was a family road trip to South Carolina to visit my Grandpa. The trip comes back to me in bits and flashes and always in that orangey glow of an old photograph. Throughout my childhood my parents schlepped my sister and I across the country on family vacations each summer. From National Parks to Hawaiian Beaches and much more, they nurtured my love for travel into the monster it currently is. Now I fund my own adventures whenever I can take them, which is about once a month, counting weekend trips and staycations. I wanted to start to record my travels more, so here we go.

Here We Go

On July 2, 2014September 17, 2015 By rebeccawanderlustingIn Travel WritingLeave a comment

My name is Rebecca, and I am travel enthusiast working my way through the hospitality industry. Seeing people from all walks of life strut through my hotel lobby with weary, travel worn smiles has re-sparked a deep lust for adventure in me. I’ve always loved to travel, but envy is a mighty kick in the ass to get you moving towards the things you want. My infatuation with travel started at a very young age. The first trip I can remember taking was a family road trip to South Carolina to visit my Grandpa. The trip comes back to me in bits and flashes and always in that orangey glow of an old photograph. Throughout my childhood my parents schlepped my sister and I across the country on family vacations each summer. From National Parks to Hawaiian Beaches and much more, they nurtured my love for travel into the monster it currently is. Now I fund my own adventures whenever I can take them, which is about three times a year. I wanted to start to record my travels more, so here we go.