Days 42 & 43

No time for Houston. Or rather, we chose New Orleans over Houston, making it merely a sleepy blip on our road map. That's an easy one, right? Our final stop in Texas was for a surprisingly tasty Thai lunch right on the border, then it was off through Baton Rouge and into the arms of the Crescent City.

To get there before dark, we took the interstate. It was still a slow, colorless journey, so when we arrived in New Orleans it was a like a Red Bull for my road-weary soul. Jun maneuvered the car through the narrow streets of the French Quarter in search of lodging, while I was reminded of a tipsy 22-year-old version of myself that had raised a ruckus on those same streets.

Oh, how things change. This time around, the sights and smells and sounds of Bourbon Street were downright repulsive. The hurricanes? Nothing to write home about. But the architecture was endlessly divine and the seafood...yum. We filled up on oysters at Acme Oyster House and Mother's, which were full of tourists but finger-lickin' good.

We walked around in the searing heat, stopping in art gallerys and souvenir shops and even a cathedral to soak up the AC in small bursts. My husband did not let me go on a swamp tour, alas, and within 24 hours our time in the Big Easy had come to a close.