After our late start, we drove through Louisiana in the dark, not knowing if we were passing through grass or over water, having no idea what to expect from New Orleans. As we pulled off our exit for the French Quarter close to 1am, rundown buildings with dirtied walls came into view, shadowy arms and legs spreading off the curbs and dangling from balconies. I mildly felt that we were not in a safe place, but also intrigued and wanting more.
We stepped out of our car and onto the cobblestone pathway of Hotel Provincial. The heady scent of jasmine pulsed in the nighttime heat and we were led to an incredible room with floor to ceiling raw wooden doors, polished brick floors and warm yellow lamps glowing beside our beds. I was buzzing with excitement over the mysterious-feeling city and could barely fall asleep. This was the most haunted hotel in America, after all.
With a pillow blockade creating safety between my line of sight and any potentially ghostly happenings, I finally did fall asleep and in the morning we woke up early, and set off to explore the town.
see Kate’s take here, and come back tomorrow to read about Cafe du Monde, Galatories, and my love for the French Quarter.