My Very Favorite Hotel Is in New Orleans

Le Pavillon was the best hotel I've ever stayed at.

Sure, it was comfortable and the staff was friendly. But what really won me over were the free peanut butter sandwiches served in the lobby each evening.

Like all of the nice hotels I've ever stayed at, this one came courtesy of Priceline. For $65 a night, we were just a few blocks from Bourbon Street and the edge of the French Quarter. I could tell the hotel was faaaaan-cy when we walked into our room and found a ceiling fan and eight pillows on each of the double beds. Who could ever be content with just two pillows per bed? The thought!

Then I went in the bathroom and found this:

Yep, a drawn bath menu. Nope, I didn't partake. The cheapest bath, at $25, came with peanut butter sandwiches. The most expensive, at $80, came with champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberries and rose petals. The most interesting bath, however, was $50:

But as I said, the peanut butter sandwiches were the highlight. Every evening, from 10 to 11 p.m., a table in the lobby was set with a platter of white, wheat and raisin breads, along with bowls of creamy and crunchy peanut butter and a variety of jams. There was even hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream.

Needless to say, I had evening snacks of peanut butter sandwiches on both Saturday and Sunday nights before heading out again for the evening.Who needs a continental breakfast? Give me some PB&J any night.

Exploring the Mississippi Gulf Coast

The truth: The only reason we rented a car in New Orleans is so I could cross Mississippi and Alabama off the list of states I had yet to visit.

But so long as we were driving the 150 miles from New Orleans to Mobile, we might as well have some fun along the way.

Instead of taking the interstate to Alabama, we drove scenic Route 90, winding directly alongside the Gulf of Mexico and its sandy beaches.

We didn't pack our swimsuits, but we did wade at a beach in Biloxi. The water was shallow and surprisingly warm -- warmer, I think, than the heated pool at our hotel.

We took the drive just a few days after the fifth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, and on this beautiful, sunny day it was hard to imagine the devastation that occurred in cities like Pass Christian, which I remember once dominating the news. Paul later learned that the road we drove was indeed once lined with mansions. Now only a few are left.

Neither Paul nor I had any destination in mind in Alabama, so we simply circled Mobile and headed toward the interstate. Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama: Check, check and check.

Taking advantage of our location, however, Paul researched barbecue joints in the deep south and came up with a good one near Ocean Springs, Mississippi, for our return trip. My pulled pork was good, but the real stars were the outdoor picnic tables and live blues band.

My stay in the south was brief, but I loved what I saw. And heard.

Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama marked states #37, 38 and 39 for me, and they completed my tour of every state east of the Mississippi River. Eleven states to go, and I'm really looking forward to visiting a few of them (California, Oregon, Utah). But Nebraska? Oklahoma? I might need another road trip, Alabama style.

Am I Too Old for New Orleans?

No, I'm not too old for New Orleans, but I am too old to drink there.

Paul and I headed south over Labor Day weekend for the food, the fun and the drinks. Mainly in that order, at least for me.

But for the latter, Bourbon Street is the center of action. The sheer number of people and neon lights reminded me of Times Square, only with more alcohol and fewer kids. Truth be told, however, there were a wide range of ages stumbling down the street, drink in hand -- 21-year-olds, 51-year-olds, 51-year-old acting like 21-year-olds. At one point I even got stuck behind an old man with a cane. He, however, did not have a drink in his hand.

Bourbon Street

Drinking on the street is legal in New Orleans, and many bars pedaled their goods not only to patrons inside, but also to thirst passersby on the go. Almost everyone on the sidewalk and pedestrian zones seemed to hold a plastic cup filled with their beverage of choice. I can't tell you how many yardsticks of beer or mixed drinks I saw people carrying around, and fishbowl-filled drinks seemed to be popular, too. In both cases, the container was attached to a strap the drinker wrapped around his or her neck, like a necklace with a very large, drinkable charm. At about $9, what a steal!

But no fishbowl for me. Instead, Paul and I found a bar with a second floor deck overlooking Bourbon Street, and I battered my tongue with ice shards, sipping my frozen sour apple daiquiri too fast.

Of course I wanted to give Bourbon Street a try, but I was mostly looking forward to the food and scenery. Paul eagerly anticipated visiting K-Paul's Louisiana Kitchen, opened by one of his favorite chefs, Paul Prudhomme. Indeed, my fried shrimp po-boy with sweet potato fries ended up as my favorite meal of the trip.

Fried Shrimp Po-Boy with Sweet Potato Fries

Paul wasn't so lucky. He loved his gumbo, which came with a mini corn muffin and Boston brown bread. A few hours later, however, he was in bed with three Benadryl and the hives.

That was the low point of the weekend.

He's still not sure where the nuts were hiding, but at that point it didn't much matter. After we were both sure he wasn't going to die, Paul basically wanted to be left alone to sleep and wait out the allergic reaction. I went exploring by myself.

By that evening he was fine, so we took a free ferry across the Mississippi River for the views alone.

 Then we stopped at the uber-popular Cafe du Monde for beignets, a kind of French deep-fried doughnut topped with a mound of powdered sugar and served hot.

A Beignet (all of the powdered sugar was heaped at the bottom of the bag!)

The other Louisiana must-try: Alligator on a stick. Nope, it didn't taste like chicken. More like a heavily seasoned sausage.

Alligator on a Stick

Besides eating and drinking, New Orleans doesn't really have much to do. That doesn't mean we were bored. It was fascinating simply walking through the French Quarter, seeing the historic buildings, pretending I was in the market for street art, and peeking into a cemetery or two.

Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral

St. Louis Cemetery No. 1

Lafayette Cemetery

Wednesday: Driving the Mississippi Gulf Coast
Friday: Le Pavillon: The Best Hotel I've Ever Stayed At