Mandeville, Louisiana
January 17-20, 2022
January 17-20, 2022
I spent my first night back on the road in the Official Florida Welcome Center off of I-10, just west of Pensacola. (FYI, Florida rest areas are weirdly great spots to camp.) The next morning, I drove through the itty-bitty panhandles of Alabama and Mississippi and into Louisiana, winding up at Fontainebleau State Park, just across Lake Pontchartrain from New Orleans. Upon arrival, I got my first taste of the miraculous ease of backing my van into a campsite, as opposed to backing up a trailer. SO. MUCH. EASIER.
I drove over the 23.83-mile-long Causeway Bridge to New Orleans the first night and ate scrumptious dinner on the plant-covered patio of a restaurant called Copper Vine. The next day, the dogs and I took a five-mile walk around the park trails with their astounding live oaks, and I later rode my bike a few miles down Tammany Trace to dine in Mandeville at Hambone, which the internet touted as having the best gumbo around, and which did not disappoint. I wound up going home with extra gumbo, pickled okra potato salad, root beer pudding, and an accidental half-gallon of strawberry old-fashioned cocktail.
After work wrapped up on Wednesday, I took the dogs on a long and windy wander through Woldenberg Park and the French Quarter. The drums, horns, and overall activity horrified poor Miso, but Mochi was in his element. I had to yank him away from drinking out of numerous filthy puddles and fountains, and he blissfully leaned on the knees of every person who tried to give him a friendly pat. I had a light and delicious dinner outside at Butcher, wrapping it up with one of their bacon pralines, which was as good as it sounds.
I’m sad to say that I didn’t get a single beignet or cup of chicory coffee this time around. I had the best of intentions, but one thing I’m learning about myself while doing this much solo traveling is that I get overwhelmed very easily when in cities. I enjoy them for a bit, but too many people and too long a list of things to do and see wind up stressing me out, and I need a good, long walk in the woods to reset. I definitely plan to return to Louisiana for future visits, and I think New Orleans might be one of those cities that’s best enjoyed with human companions.
I drove over the 23.83-mile-long Causeway Bridge to New Orleans the first night and ate scrumptious dinner on the plant-covered patio of a restaurant called Copper Vine. The next day, the dogs and I took a five-mile walk around the park trails with their astounding live oaks, and I later rode my bike a few miles down Tammany Trace to dine in Mandeville at Hambone, which the internet touted as having the best gumbo around, and which did not disappoint. I wound up going home with extra gumbo, pickled okra potato salad, root beer pudding, and an accidental half-gallon of strawberry old-fashioned cocktail.
After work wrapped up on Wednesday, I took the dogs on a long and windy wander through Woldenberg Park and the French Quarter. The drums, horns, and overall activity horrified poor Miso, but Mochi was in his element. I had to yank him away from drinking out of numerous filthy puddles and fountains, and he blissfully leaned on the knees of every person who tried to give him a friendly pat. I had a light and delicious dinner outside at Butcher, wrapping it up with one of their bacon pralines, which was as good as it sounds.
I’m sad to say that I didn’t get a single beignet or cup of chicory coffee this time around. I had the best of intentions, but one thing I’m learning about myself while doing this much solo traveling is that I get overwhelmed very easily when in cities. I enjoy them for a bit, but too many people and too long a list of things to do and see wind up stressing me out, and I need a good, long walk in the woods to reset. I definitely plan to return to Louisiana for future visits, and I think New Orleans might be one of those cities that’s best enjoyed with human companions.
