This is our third trip to New Orleans in our RV. There’s so much more to this city than just the French Quarter and Bourbon Street. On prior trips we’ve explored the Garden District, WWII Museum, Civil War Museum, City Park, and on, and on. Since we’ve seen so much, we decided to stay at our campsite for a bit, take care of some chores, and relax for a while.
Pontchartrain Landing RV Resort and Marina is a really nice place to stay, if you score one of the better campsites. The interior sites are fairly cramped, but the perimeter sights are fine, and waterfront is best. It’s about 10 minutes by car to New Orleans’ most popular tourist areas. It’s not your typical RV park, campsites, a small store, and maybe a swimming pool. This place is right on the Intercoastal Navigational Canal off Lake Pontchartrain, offers fairly new two story vacation rentals, a large restaurant with live entertainment, event space, and a marina. There’s also a daily shuttle to and from the French Quarter that runs twice per day to avoid driving, if you’d like. Getting to the park is interesting: It’s in an industrial area, and the road to it is rough, and lousy with potholes. It’s still the best thing going with you’re RVing to New Orleans.
I didn’t take any photos of the campground itself this time, but the owners have invested in, and are restoring “The City of New Orleans” paddlewheeler. She’s docked on the opposite shore of the canal I this photo.
Our second day in New Orleans was mostly spent at the RV, with a short drive to nearby Po-Boy Heaven: Parkway Bakery and Tavern. Miles outside the French Quarter or Garden District, and fortunately close to our camp, this historic eatery, established in 1911, has it all. A classic little tavern front, a quick moving, but long line attesting to the goodness of the place, old photos lining the walls, a condiment bar with all the sauces, and a covered patio with plenty of picnic table seating when the small inside dining tables are full. There’s even a letter from the founder of Vienna Sausage to the founder of Parkway promoting his pastrami. Patrons are blue collar, white collar, locals, students, and tourists. Excellent Po-Boys. So good. SO GOOD!
If you ever find yourself in this part of town, go here!
The line is long, but it moves fairly quickly, and the food is worth the wait.
Our turn to order!
A Parkway Surf ‘n Turf. Gulf shrimp and roast beef on the same roll.
Freshly breaded, perfectly seasoned gulf shrimp.
Very small tavern in the front of the house.
Our third day here we ventured over to the main building to watch a movie regarding the disappearing Louisiana wetlands. Narrated by Meryl Streep, this IMAX movie is at once informative and alarming. Hurricane on the Bayou tells the story of the critical role Louisiana’s wetlands/bayous play to protect the land from the devastating hurricanes of late. Tab Benoit, a blues guitarist whose main mission in life is to save the wetlands where he grew up, has been writing songs, holding concerts and benefits to restore the wetlands for 15 years or so. This other musician, Amanda Shaw, is 14 years old, and joins him in the film to tell the story of the love for their land, and the importance of reversing man’s debilitating effect.
We decided to head to the Garden District, and try lunch at Joey K’s. We’ve been eating mostly seafood lately. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but we were ready for something a little different. So, what did Steve get? Fish tacos! And me? I had a crisp salad with panko crusted shrimp. Man, do we know how to go outside the box, or what?
That bag Steve’s holding? We RARELY finish our lunch, and usually have enough for another meal, or at the very least, a snack when we’re not hungry for another meal. And let’s face it, with portions the sizes they are, hungry for a complete meal after lunch out doesn’t happen very often.
Joey K’s vivid interior.
Locally caught fish tacos.
That’s a TON of shrimp!
Yep, this place was featured on Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives
Time to give the French Quarter a visit. We have never taken the seemingly cliché horse and buggy tour, and we just felt this was the right time. We found the right guy with the right rig. The buggy, the mule, and our driver were all decked out in purple. Did you know that it’s illegal to use horses for these tours through the French Quarter? Yessiree. Mules can handle the heat and long days pulling buggies far better than horses. Our driver was quite the character. He knew all the details along our route, both important and trivial, and had the best sing-song line to warn folks that we were approaching, “Waaaatch my aaaass!” I know, I know, a donkey (and not a mule) is usually the animal referred to as an ass (well, some humans, too), but this is not the time to be knit-picky. We sat in the back and couldn’t hear most of what he was saying, but what we did hear was entertaining.
Our guide, David “Purple Man” Carriere, and his sweet mule, Knucklehead.
Purple cracked jokes in between telling us history and trivia, for example, as we rolled by Purple greeted a white adult little person in the French Quarter that he must know well. After we passed, Purple told us that guy was his son, and that’s when he gave up drinking and drugs for good.
Decorating a tree, New Orleans style.
After our little tour, a refreshing beverage was in order. We tried to desperately to find a seat at Pat O’Briens, but the place was far too smokey for me. Darn smokers. Yes, you have your right to enjoy your nasty illness-inducing habit, but don’t I also have the right to enjoy myself without suffering? My non-smoker COPD-laden lungs snap shut, dang it, and I want to enjoy the place, too. Oh well. Moving on…
We revisited a place that’s apparently become a thing for us, and I have no idea why. Seriously. No. Idea. We found ourselves back at Tropical Isle, a bar we’ve visited on prior trips. It’s fun to watch when someone orders a Shark Attack, for sure. However, we’re in Louisiana, and this place’s vibe is so un-New Orleans, and we’re all about local flavor. Not gonna fret about it. We’re traveling, we’re enjoying. It’s all good.
Inside Tropical Isle
Sure, I’ll have my cocktail in a lime green alligator cup.
Side note: I may be the only person on the planet that seeks out and reads all the plaques on historic buildings. Bourbon Street is loaded with them.
Purple told us this is THE place for authentic N’awlins cuisine. Didn’t get there this time, but the line was super long. Purple isn’t the only one to think this place is good.
On our last full day here, we decided to have lunch at a completely different eatery: Stein’s Market and Deli. This place is exactly what you’d expect to walk in to in any New York neighborhood. Old, but loaded with character, cramped, but lively, with back to back community tables. Racks of canned and jarred deli items for sale line the walls. The place smelled delicious – warm bread and pastrami, with hints of fresh onions and mustard. Steve was craving pastrami, and I wanted a muffuletta. His was great, mine was so-so. The muffulettas at Central Grocery in the French Quarter are hard to beat. They did invent them, after all…
Scored parking right in front of our destination!
Inside Stein’s.
Have a seat, meet a new friend, or keep to yourself. It’s all good.
Hot pastrami and Swiss on marbled rye.
Stein’s version of a muffuletta. Meh. The cheese was far too strong, the bread was all wrong, and it was dry. Can’t all be winners.
Walking around the Garden District, we stopped in at a few shops, and just took in the scenery.
Spotted along our way:
This is for real. It’s nice to know when your life is in legal peril, at the very least you won’t be thirsty.
I wanted to see is Sucré was as fabulous as I remembered. Sadly, it was even more pricey than before, and not as remarkable as I remembered. We won’t be stopping there again.
Sucré has a pretty interior, but it wasn’t as sparkling clean as I remembered.
We didn’t purchase any of these. They’re not as large as a cupcake, and far too $$$$ for my taste.
I noticed another eatery in the area is gaining momentum, District Donuts. An unlikely combination microbrew pub, sliders, and gourmet donuts set in an industrial chic environment made me wish we would have stopped in there rather than the long-standing and popular Stein’s Deli. District Donuts was packed, everyone looked really happy, and the diners seated at the sidewalk tables looked like they were enjoying creative treats. Next time…
Our last stop in the Garden District was a little flag shop. We have a little garden flag holder by our front door at home that has been empty since we moved there. We just never found the right statement to make, but we figured if it existed, the shop would have it – it was packed to the brim with all things colorful that wave or spin in the breeze. The owner was as colorful as his wares. Animated, chatty, and upbeat, with a side of adorable, he really made me want to part with some cash, and take something home. We found a welcome flag that wasn’t too cutesy for our taste, and another for our annual Super Bowl party. Before leaving I needed to use the ladies’ room, and the owner directed me to his. I only bring this up because of the creepiness that waited for me once inside the bathroom. Made me rethink the candy-coated shell of the owner. See for yourself, and remember, this is a flag store.
What is SHE doing in here?!
This visit we decided it might be fun to stay overnight in the heart of the French Quarter, since we don’t stay late when RVing.
We considered staying at the historic Hotel Monteleone, but at $450 for the night, we bid adieu.
Going back to the RV park, we moved our coach off our campsite, and paid to “store” it overnight at our campground. Great way to save a little money when we’re not going to occupy it for the night. We headed back towards the tourist area, checked into the Hyatt Centric French Quarter, then headed out for a late afternoon adventure on Bourbon Street. We stopped in for a drink at Jean Lafitte’s Old Absinthe House, a quirky, historic (since 1807) place. Put the word “historic” on it, and I’m bound to want to check it out. This place was filled with antique sailor gear, pirate what-nots, and football helmets going back to the early days. Business cards are plastered everywhere, and an antique Absinthe dispenser is mounted on the front corner of the bar. Interesting place.
LOVE places with history and character!
The Absinthe dispenser.
Typical French Quarter photo op.
Bourbon Street, while it’s still fairly early (4 p.m., or so)
Moving on, we watched kids grouped together with upside-down buckets, performing their best percussion for tips, wacky revelers in all sorts of bizarre ensembles, plenty of sequins, glitter, beads, and noise. Frat boys shouted from a balcony. Cars that didn’t know better tried to steer around the (drunk) pedestrians before the road is closed to vehicle traffic for the night. Steve and I quickly realized we were, A). Far too sober for this place, and, B). Far too tame. I suppose both A and B go together. Navigating away from Bourbon Street, we found a small place called The 21st Amendment. Now, THIS was our kind of place. We snagged two stools at the bar, chatted with the bartender as she crafted nostalgic cocktails, and listened to the jazz being played by the first musician of the day.
This was our idea of a nice way to wind down.
We will return here on future visits, FOR SURE! It’s small, but just our style.
The interior at 21st Amendment. We’re seated at the bar, and that’s the stage behind us. Yes, it is that small.
I was quite happy to be away from the smells and sensory overload of Bourbon Street. Don’t get me wrong, if you’re under 35, enjoy copious amounts of alcohol, or at the very least enjoy people watching and don’t mind the smell of various bodily fluids, Bourbon Street late in the day is for you.
A brief stop back at the hotel to get ready for dinner, and we were hoofing it once again. We made the mistake of thinking there would be plenty of places to eat without a reservation, since it wasn’t prime Spring Break anymore, we wanted a nicer dinner, and it wasn’t the weekend. Lesson learned: If you want to eat anywhere in the French Quarter that involves a table cloth, make reservations, no matter what day of the week. Needless to say, we didn’t dine, we just got something to eat. Que sera sera.
We happily ended our evening back at The 21st Amendment. This time we didn’t count on having any luck with seating, and in a happy turn of our late night luck, we scored a table for 2 next to a really nice couple that wound up being our friends for the night. A 4 piece jazz band replaced the solo artist that played earlier in the day. This place was the PERFECT way to wrap up our night, and our time in New Orleans.
Half of the couple that we enjoyed our night with.
These guys were fantastic. May not be the romantic vision of an old, smokey jazz bar that Anthony Bourdain would frequent, but this suited us just fine.
See ya next time, New Orleans!