New Orleans Adventure: Day 2, Decadent Sundays...

I woke up with an eager tummy. Weeks ago I had made reservations for us at Commander's Palace so we hailed a taxi to the Garden District around 1pm. We got there a bit too early so we decided to wander the little garden outside, mom with a Bloody Mary in hand and me with my camera. We were able to get into my favorite room, the Garden Room, that overlooks the garden and one gets a sense of being in a treehouse. The food was nothing less than amazing and perfect, as it always was. We came on a day they had a live swing band and when I asked them to play some Django Reinhart they were ecstatic to get to play something besides the commonly requested songs.


Play me some Django, please?

Brunch for me consisted of a mimosa, Commanders Palace baby spinach salad, pecan crusted gulf fish and some pecan pie to go (beautifully wrapped up like a swan!). Mom had a shrimp remoulade, flounder, and a peaches desert along with a generous amount of booze. Commanders Palace treated us well, as they always do.

View from the waiting area in Commander's Palace.


Feeling way too full, we headed back to the French Quarter to walk some of it off when we were hit hard by a rain storm, causing us to take shelter in a souvenir shop for quite some time. I absolutely love it when it rains here, the streets shine like rugged hems and the sounds of rain drops echo through the narrow streets. I visited the St Louis Cathedral and bought a votive candle to make a prayer for a certain person, popped in the Absinthe Museum, and spent the rest of the afternoon walking in the residential area of the French Quarter. I have an affinity to shot-gun style houses and vivid colors... and the French Quarter was FULL of such architecture.

I met up with mom that evening and we took a few peaceful spins around the Carousel Bar again. Motown faintly played as we sat watching the very scarce crowd. For a change of scene we went to the Old Absinthe House on Bourbon because I was curious to compare it to the Pirate Alley's. Being that it was on Bourbon, it was loud and expensive. The bartender poured a stiff absinthe though, and I thought for a second I was hallucinating when I saw a horse come into the bar. It was a police officer on horseback. We learned "Cherry", the horse, loved the bar olives (like my mom, haha). I barely got a picture before she rared back out.


I ended my Sunday by heading to the Pirate Alley Absinthe House where I met a young couple from Savannah interested in starting up a paranormal investigation company in New Orleans and we talked a bit about our good / bad experiences with the tours there currently. I decided to call it a night when some crazy guy came in and started ranting about punk music. It had been a long day and I had a long trek back.