Our gorgeous plantation-room suite with two (!) chandeliers was across the street from Emeril’s Delmonico restaurant. We didn’t eat there – we caught the city bus at the stop in front of it, which took us to a trolley that dropped us near Bourbon St., where we walked along with a ginormous beer and the best bloody Mary I’ve ever tasted (it had four pickled green beans in it).
St. Louis cemetery, of course. It’s like walking through a low village where all the tiny houses have been boarded up and abandoned. Quiet narrow walkways. Plastic flowers and Mardi Gras beads and XXX painted and charcoaled on the walls of the mausoleums. Offerings left at the graves of voodoo queens: liquor, coins, a tiny plastic baby.