This week’s Photo Friday (#FriFotos) theme is PARKS.  Pictured above is Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop, the oldest bar in New Orleans (and possibly one of the oldest in the US). It’s named for Jean Lafitte, the famed pirate and privateer who supposedly used the bar, on Bourbon Street in the Lower French Quarter, as a base of operations from 1772 and 1791.

So you are probably thinking, “Hey, that’s a bar, not a park.”  Well, yes, the Blackshop Shop lies inside of a park, as the French Quarter is one of six sites making up the Jean Lafitte National Historic Park & Preserve.

The other five sites include:

• Acadian Cultural Center – Lafayette
• Prairie Acadian Cultural Center – Eunice
• Wetlands Acadian Cultural Center – Thibodaux
• Barataria Preserve – Marrero
• Chalmette Battlefield and National Cemetery – Chalmette

Photo Friday: Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

There are plenty of cool hotels in New Orleans, but on my last trip, I chose two places where I had always wanted to stay: The Columns Hotel on St. Charles Avenue and the International House in the Central Business District Downtown. We spent two nights at each.

Built in 1883 by New Orleans architect Thomas Sully, The Columns Hotel defines Southern charm and drips with atmosphere. When I lived in the city, I spent many an evening on the veranda with friends, sipping cocktails and watching the St. Charles streetcar go by.

Inside, the hotel has been restored, and many period elements remain. It was originally built for Simon Hernsheim of Hernsheim Brothers & Co., the U.S.’s largest cigar manufacturer at one point. Later used as a boarding house, the Columns appeared as a brothel in the 1978 Brooke Shields movie, Pretty Baby.

I love the architectural details of the Queen Anne-style building, much of which you can’t see if you’re just hanging out at the bar. Check out the three-story mahogany staircase and the stained glass.

The rooms look a little bit like your grandma’s house, if your grandma was a Southern Miss Havisham. It’s built for comfort, not luxury, and while the rooms are large, you shouldn’t expect five-star surroundings. This is the Sweetheart Suite, where my parents stayed (cost is a reasonable $173 during the week, $230 on the weekends. A full Southern breakfast is included).

The floors in our room, for example, leaned a bit. Still, we had a lot of room for $128 per night (during the week). And hotel guests have sole access to the large second floor balcony shown in my first picture. We sat out here at night with my parents and talked over drinks.

We felt the atmosphere and location – on St. Charles and convenient for all of the Mardi Gras parades – made up for the “old house” feel. Plus you have access to one of the coolest bars in town. Don and I would definitely stay here again.

The Columns was already booked for our last two nights, so we moved downtown to the International House. Opened as one of New Orleans’ first boutique hotels in 1998, the hotel served as the first World Trade Center in the 1940s. The lobby retains the old New Orleans architecture with hip furnishings for a “voodoo chic” look.

The hotel’s bar, Loa, is another cool New Orleans place to have a drink; I had stopped by here before when I called New Orleans home. The hotel’s tapas restaurant, Rambla, has also picked up a following.

If it had been any time other than Mardi Gras, we would have loved the International House. But while the public spaces are gorgeous and the front staff extremely pleasant, we felt that we vastly overpaid for our room (an astounding $300 per night, just about the lowest we could find for those two days).

And that’s the thing about New Orleans hotels: room rates can vary drastically, depending on when you are there. If you’re going during Mardi Gras or Jazzfest, find accommodations early – or do as my sister did, and use Starwood or other hotel points for your room. During the rest of the year, hotel prices are more reasonable than many US cities.

Cool Hotels in New Orleans: The Columns and International House is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

Jambalaya, crawfish pie, file gumbo….I think we ate them all. Besides my cocktail-fueled costume lunch at Commander’s Palace and luxe Saturday night dinner at Stella! in the French Quarter, our forays into New Orleans cuisine kept on going, with two visits into the Carrollton neighborhood.

Photo courtesy of Flickr Creative Commons

Jacques-Imo’s is one of my favorite New Orleans restaurants; I even celebrated my 30th birthday there. I’m not the only one who loves it, though, and often the long lines keep me away. But with my whole family in town, we were able to get reservations (HINT: you can always get a drink at the awesome tin-ceiling-ed Maple Leaf Bar next door as you wait for your table).

Owner Jacques Leonardi is one of those New Orleans characters that this city loves so much. The folk art at Jacques Imo’s mimics his colorful personality. The best seat in the house is a decorated truck parked in front of the restaurant.

This is not a place for nibblers – portions are huge and hearty, starting with the warm garlic cornbread that comes to your table.

Lots of people rave over Jacques Imo’s sausage and alligator cheesecake. But I prefer the fried green tomatoes with shrimp and remoulade or the oyster brie soup. Then again, it’s hard to beat the duck and andouille gumbo. Look how much meat is in this dish!

What you’ll find at Jacques Imo’s are classic Louisiana dishes, heavily spiced and dished up in messy glory. I love his use of local ingredients, and even your salad comes with a fried oyster. This is a photo of Don’s crawfish etouffee.

At a friend’s recommendation, I ordered the fried catfish with crabmeat stuffing. I believe the sauce was a Tasso hollandaise, but I didn’t take notes. I was too busy oohing and ahhing over my food.

This night, however, it was my sister who may have made the best order. Jacques Imo’s fried chicken is considered by many to be tops in the city, and I know that it gets my vote. Crispy, juicy, served with a side of maque choux (a Cajun corn dish) and mac and cheese? It’s hard to do better.

Here’s where Jacques Imo’s gets its gut-busting reputation. Every meal comes with your choice of two sides (this is beans and rice, and collard greens). This is in addition to the fried oyster salad and cornbread. The good times weren’t the only thing rolling out of the neighborhood that night. We were stuffed.

Yet somehow we made it back to Carrollton two nights later. This time, our destination was Boucherie, a meat-riffic restaurant born out of a food truck. Despite such humble beginnings, Chef Nathanial Zimet also trained at Commander’s Palace and Stella so he has plenty of white tablecloth credentials. The result is one of the most popular restaurants in New Orleans right now.

We went with Laura Maggi and Mike Kunzelman, two married reporters who both won prestigious George Polk journalism awards this year. Times-Picayune staffer Laura covered the investigation and trial of New Orleans police who shot civilians on Danziger Bridge, one of the more horrifying stories to come from Hurricane Katrina, and Mike wrote and edited the Associated Press’s coverage of the British Petroleum oil spill last summer.  (I love bragging about my smart and talented friends).

Is it any surprise that I wasn’t that hungry? (I blame the praline bacon I had earlier that day at Elizabeth’s). Boucherie has both small plates and larger entrees, all under $20. I ordered the gougeres, fried balls that oozed with warm duck liver mousse. Amazing. And yes, you are seeing a strip of bacon there. Just in case the mousse didn’t provide enough fat.

Don somehow found his appetite. He ordered the pulled pork, shaped like a cake and piled high with purple slaw.

For meat lovers, the real star of Boucherie’s menu may be the smoked Waygu beef brisket, served with parmesan fries. This is Mike’s plate; rest assured that the rest of us ordered an app version of the fries, which are cooked in garlic butter, for the table.

What’s great about Boucherie (besides the duck liver balls) is the price. We paid about the same amount that we’d spend on a dinner out in Seattle. If you’re planning a NOLA trip and want to give it a try, be sure to call ahead. Reservations are a must.

I’ve nattered on about New Orleans food for a couple of days. Now it’s your turn. What’s your favorite New Orleans dish?

New Orleans Cuisine: Boucherie & Jacques Imo’s is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

Stella opened right before I left in 2001, and I never got to try it. I have to admit that the exclamation point at the end of the name turned me off. But in subsequent years, I kept reading rave reviews about Stella! from serious foodies. When Times-Picayune restaurant critic Brett Anderson gave it his highest honor of five beans, I knew I had to go.

The exclamation point in the name seems to represent Scott Boswell’s energy. He’s become a culinary force in the city, especially in the years since Hurricane Katrina. He’s opened a casual restaurant, Stanley, right on Jackson Square, that has lines out the door most days. He’s also an avid tweeter, sending photos from the kitchen and behind the scenes (follow him as @ChefScottB).

We arrived for our Saturday night reservation a little early (my fault). We sauntered into the small bar, and Boswell was there, chatting up guests. I introduced myself and my friend Stephanie Grace (a well-known political columnist for the Times-Picayune).

Boswell chatted with us for quite a while, showing us photos that he took that day about his latest project, the Stanley Service Bar, which serves up sandwiches and drinks for people waiting in line at Stanley. This week, he’s developing a special fried chicken dinner. The man never sleeps.

Stella’s dining room was much more elegant than I thought it would be. White and gold walls, fresh flowers, creamy upholstered chairs – it all set the scene for a luxurious dining experience (with a price tag to match; our friends warned us that Stella! is one of the more expensive restaurants in the city). Despite the formality of the room, the servers were friendly and down to earth, with great timing.

OK, OK, on to the food. The meal started with an amuse bouche of foie gras wonton, served in an adorable oyster dish. Delish.

That wasn’t nearly enough foie gras for me, so I ordered the seared foie gras on brioche with carmelized bananas as an appetizer. I almost died when I saw the size of the foie gras cut that came out. “It looks like a filet!” my husband exclaimed. Oh yeah. It was amazing.

He couldn’t complain too much, though. His Gulf shrimp and andouille risotto tasted just the way you’d want it to be, rich and creamy. He didn’t want to share, but I made him give me a taste.

My sister is not a seafood eater, but she came away happy with her choice: beef tenderloin cooked to perfection. She even liked her broccoli (dipped in tempura batter. Who wouldn’t like that?)

My Stella! meal proved to be one of those lucky coincidences where I ordered perfectly. While my sister’s boyfriend devoured a seafood entree that looked quite tasty….those scallops and shrimp are sitting atop truffled andouille potato hash and caviar butter!…

….it couldn’t touch my Duck Five Ways. This plate has to be one of the best array of duck preparations that I’ve ever had. From the bottom left, clockwise: duck in currant cassis reduction, duck miso broth, duck moo shoo pancake, lacquered duck leg and thigh and….yes, more foie gras! I can’t tell you how happy this dish made my mouth feel.

You’d think that we’d be full by now. But you underestimate the foodie capacity of my friends and family. After much deliberation, my sister chose the German chocolate cake that came with a touch of molecular gastronomy – a milk chocolate nitro mousse.

Again, I think I made the best choice. Imagine a grilled cheese sandwich made with triple creme cheese. Then imagine that caloric concoction dipped in a dark chocolate ganache. Yum. Don’t you wish you were eating it now?

At this point, we were full. But Stella! had one final surprise for us. A tray of sweets came out that included a homemade marshmallow, a chocolate peanut butter cup, and a truffle. We all managed to finish our “lines.”

So what’s the damage for a meal like this? With tax and tip (and a bottle of wine), our bill came to $110 per person. Expensive, yes, but not outrageous for a special night out. We felt it was well worth it. I want to go back and have the tasting menu (although then I’d miss the duck….hmm….)

And it turns out that we would have gotten a show with our money, had we come the night before. Nicholas Cage had to be escorted from Stella! after causing a disturbance and breaking one of the restaurant’s windows. Maybe he was taking inspiration from Marlon Brando?

New Orleans Notes: Dinner at Chef Scott Boswell’s Stella! is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

A bout of bad weather on our recent New Orleans trip meant that I had the chance to skip parades and focus on another aspect of the city I love: shopping!

Normally, I do most of my New Orleans shopping in the cute shops along Magazine Street. But my sister and I were within walking distance of the French Quarter, so we decided to hit the gallery scene and see what some of our favorite French Quarter artists were doing.

While much of the French Quarter should be avoided during Mardi Gras (Bourbon Street, I’m looking at you), many of the side streets remain their charming selves.

In a city that’s full of characters, the residential area of the Quarter attracts a special breed of New Orleanian; people who not only listen to a different drummer, they lead their own brass band. I love seeing how residents in the Lower Quarter decorate their homes for Mardi Gras, which is an official holiday in Louisiana.

Some of my favorite art incorporates “found pieces”  - basically everyday items that have been repurposed into artwork. When I was single, I had a lot of rusted metal on the walls of my house, not to mention a large metal wine cage that one of my friends called a tetanus shot waiting to happen. I still find beauty in deteriorating objects and really wanted to buy one of these faded windows, found in a pop-up shop on lower Decatur Street.

I’m also a fan of fleur de lis, the official symbol of New Orleans. If we didn’t already have plenty of fleur de lis items in our house already, I would have bought one of these.

For years, artists were allowed to sell their works without retail overhead in the French Quarter’s most trafficked public spot, Jackson Square. But a crackdown by city government on selling prints in public spaces meant that some of the more successful street artists were forced to find gallery space or sell their prints at the French Market flea market.

One of the artists who has successfully made the transition from the Square to a Royal Street storefront goes solely by the name Tanner. He paints moody landscapes of trees and bayous, with rich colors and eerie effects (his online store is called, appropriately, Haunting Art).  I love the slightly claustrophobic feeling of Tanner’s work and am considering buying a piece for our Seattle home.

Barbara Yocum is another Jackson Square artist who is now running her own shop on Royal Street. Her exuberant French ladies, mermaids and fairies couldn’t be more different than Tanner’s landscapes in mood, but I enjoyed her work as well.

In fact, I bought a print of this piece to bring home. I just love its celebratory nature. Barbara also has a website.

The beauty of French Quarter gallery hopping is that you can intersperse your shopping with stops for drinks along the way. And that’s exactly what we did. It all added up a pleasantly boozy afternoon full of shopping and sisterly bonding.

New Orleans Notes: Shopping for Art in the French Quarter is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

It goes without saying that the Krewe of Muses has one of the best parades of the Carnival season. What else would you expect from a group of New Orleans’ most successful professional women? Even though we’re a relatively young krewe, only 11 years old, we quickly established ourselves on the Mardi Gras scene, thanks primarily to the organizational skills of our leadership and the quality of our throws and glitter shoes.

But it turns out that our success has spawned a rivalry. Krewe d’Etat, a satirical krewe that parades on the Friday night before Mardi Gras, fired some specific salvos at Muses on one of their floats this year, the Triple Sow Cow. And now it’s on!

Mardi Gras krewe rivalries have been around since Carnival clubs began parading in the mid-1800s. There’s always been a hierarchy between the Rex Organization, which names the King of Carnival, and the Mistick Krewe of Comus, New Orleans’ first Carnival club. Comus stopped parading in 1991 when the city passed an ordinance requiring social organizations to prove that they didn’t discriminate based on race, religion, gender or sexual orientation (other krewes that pulled out rather than integrate: the old line krewes Momus and Proteus).

But membership in the super-secret Comus remains the most prestigious in the city and at the end of Carnival on Fat Tuesday, it’s Rex who bows down to Comus at the Meeting of the Courts.

The membership of Krewe d’Etat, which started in 1996, is made up of former Comus and Momus types who wanted to get back out on the street and parade. Their parade floats make fun of public figures and news events, just like Muses floats, and they are led by a Dictator instead of a King. It’s considered one of the more fun parades and I have a bunch of skull decorated cups to prove it.

But I can see where a schism between the two groups could emerge. Krewe d’Etat is made up of the sons of the Old Guard – and the Old Guard in New Orleans hasn’t always cast a favorable eye toward uppity professional women. New Orleans has always been a behind-closed-doors kind of town, and a fair amount of Muses membership consists of women who came to New Orleans from elsewhere to pursue careers or those with an artsy bent. It’s not a debutante society.

Krewe d’Etat doesn’t present debutantes either. But it’s a good bet that much of their membership does participate in the elaborate society rituals that make up a portion of New Orleans life.

Among the rumors I heard last weekend: Krewe d’Etat members sing “Fathers, don’t let your daughters grow up to be Muses.” Apparently they’d rather have them remain passive Carnival queens and maids, wearing costumes that weigh them down so much they can barely move.

Where this rivalry will end up is yet to be seen. I’m sure that the Muses will retaliate in some form next year (a group of members did greet the infamous cow-themed Krewe d’Etat float Six with protest signs along the route last Friday). And of course, most Carnival goers don’t care what one krewe thinks of another, as long as they collect enough beads and throws.

But I personally love these little Carnival backstories. It’s all a part of the fabric of New Orleans life; nothing down there is as simple as it seems and even Carnival is rife with social and political intrigue. Let the battle begin!

Krewe of Muses 2011: Mardi Gras Rivalries is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

A few people have asked me what people need to do to join a Mardi Gras krewe (and how much it costs).

Most krewes, especially the older ones, have closed memberships that have, in some cases, been handed down through families for generations. New Orleans holds its traditions tight, so you have a better chance of being crowned King of Carnival than get a berth in an old-line krewes such as Proteus or Hermes (which even keeps the names of its members secret). It also helps to be male, as most of the krewes restrict their membership by gender.

The recession has prompted several krewes to advertise for membership. especially those that have less popular parading times, The Krewe of Alla, which rolls two weekends before Mardi Gras, put out a call for new members this year, as did the Krewe of Mid-City (both require sponsorship of a current member).

But others, such as the Krewe of Napoleon, the Krewe of Pontchartrain, the Krewe of Pygmalion and the Krewe of King Arthur, take out-of-town riders. Several of the krewes even allow you to join online and pay through PayPal.

So how much does all this cost? It depends on the popularity of the parade. Several of the krewes listed above will let you ride for a few hundred dollars. But for others, such as the famed Zulu parade that rolls on Mardi Gras Day, you’ll pay up to $1,500.

And then there are the “super krewes” of Endymion, Bacchus and the Harry Connick-founded Orpheus, so called because of the size of their floats and their membership ranks. They all have large parties that are open to the public through ticket sales, instead of boring bal masques. To ride in a super-krewe, your best bet is to become friends with someone who is already in it – and be prepared to pay.

In Krewe of Muses, for example, riders can name their own subs for the years that they don’t ride. In this way, you could bypass the long wait list entirely. That’s what my sister did when she rode with me this year (I was lucky enough to get into the Krewe during its first year when I still lived and worked in New Orleans)

It will cost you about $1,800 to ride in Muses. The dues run around $800, there’s a sub fee of $100, and you’ll easily spend another $600 to $1,000 on throws. That might sound like a lot for a few hours of fun. But take it from me, it’s worth it.

Of course, you don’t need to join a krewe and pay a lot of money to have a fabulous Carnival experience. New Orleans has plenty of marching clubs and parading societies that are open to anyone who has the creativity to create a costume and the energy to shake your thing. New groups dedicated to having a good time spring up every year. And that’s what makes Mardi Gras so awesome – and inclusive.

Krewe of Muses 2011: How to Join a Mardi Gras Krewe is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

Spectators may only grab a glimpse of Mardi Gras floats as they roll by, but for the riders, preparing for a New Orleans parade is an all-day affair.

I rode in the Krewe of Muses this year for the fifth time since joining the Mardi Gras organization back in 2001. It proved to be the best ride I’ve done so far, so I thought it would be fun to give you a glimpse of what happens behind the scenes.

Mardi Gras “krewes” – a name for a New Orleans parading or social organization, that dates back to the mid-1800s – range in size, purpose and traditions. Most of the older krewes are named for Greek and Roman mythological figures, but there are lots of smaller walking krewes, societies and clubs – new ones seem to spring up all the time.

My krewe, Muses, is an all-female organization known for its satirical floats, awesome “throws” (beads, trinkets and toys) and elaborately decorated glitter shoes that are one of the more coveted prizes of Carnival.

It takes all year to prepare for large parade, such as Muses. There are dues to collect, throws to order, themes to choose, floats to design – as well as social and fundraising events held throughout the year (many of New Orleans’ larger krewes have community service components).

The krewe tends to organize by float number, and some groups, such as our “Float 18,” have shoe decorating parties on weekends leading up to the big day. When I lived in Washington DC two years ago, I joined Muses there to decorate shoes (it’s much easier to get motivated to glitter in a group).

But I’m an out-of-town member, and so for Muses like me, the countdown starts the night before when you arrive at the “den,” the location where the floats are kept, to load and organize your throws. As an out-of-town member, I usually buy a package of beads that is loaded onto the float for me, but my sister – who was riding with me this year – and I bought some extras that we needed to put on ourselves.

The float viewing, held at Blaine Kern’s Mardi Gras World, also gave my family to take a look at the different floats before the actual parade. My parents, who drove in from Florida to watch my sister and I ride, especially enjoyed the behind-the-scenes tour.

I think one family photo may even make their annual Christmas card!

The next day felt like Christmas morning, as I awoke with the same anticipation I had as a kid. After a brief shop at a costume shop on Magazine Street for wig caps and another at Walgreens for water bottles and chips, we arrived at our fellow krewe member Natalie’s home to get dressed in our costumes. As always, our float focused more on creativity than beauty, and the jokes about our gypsy wigs flew fast.

Everyone in a krewe usually wears the same base tunic, but each float puts its own spin on things. The float that comes up with the most creative headpieces wins a crucial spot in the parade for the next year. Our float, which celebrated the New Orleans Saints, wasn’t destined to win. But we gamely pinned on our shoulder pads anyway.

After we’re appropriately dressed and glittered, we go out to lunch in costume. This year, we went to the famed Commander’s Palace to take advantage of the 25 cent drink specials.

What’s great about New Orleans is that no one batted an eye when we walked into the elegant patio room. Owner Ti Martin greeted us with open arms and we received an ovation from the other diners as we walked to our table. Even though there was a Saks Fifth Avenue fashion show going on, we remained the center of attention; several people came up to us and asked for a picture.

After a lunch full of cocktails and costumes, we needed to figure out a way to get down to the den. Some years, this has presented a dilemma – some obliging police gave us a ride as we stood haplessly by the side of the road – but this time we were prepared. Even if Natalie had to ride in the back.

By 4 p.m., we arrived at the Krewe of Muses pre-party. I watched my sisters’ face as we entered. Her jaw dropped in surprise as she took in the scene of hundreds of women dressed in costume, each sporting a wig/wacky headdress.

I don’t have many photos from the pre-party because I was too busy loading up our water bottles with drinks for the route. Usually I fill a bottle with vodka nectar, but this time we chose champagne. The pre-party is all about drinking and laughing and checking out costumes and singing along to favorite songs. In short, it’s like a pep rally that’s all about you instead of a team of guys. How cool is that!?

Once the pre-party is over, you get on the float and head uptown to the beginning of the parade route. It’s a city ordinance that you need to wear a mask, and we’re also strapped in to the float with a harness so we don’t fall over. We spend this time chugging our afore-mentioned water bottles and passed around a few cartons of wine, along with water. chips and chicken strips from Popeye’s.

And then suddenly, the float jerks forward. It’s starting, you’re ready to roll. And your time as one of the city’s temporary rock stars begins.

Imagine hundreds of people reaching up toward you, begging for the plastic trinkets that only you can provide. It’s a power trip that brings out benevolent emotions. Your eyes meet someone in the crowd. Gift me, choose me, they plead. And you want to milk the moment for all its worth.

At least I do. I love the drama of making the throw. You dangle the coveted throw – a glitter shoe, a plastic vuvuzela, a long strand of beads – high above the crowd. You hear the roar, you select who is worthy. And then, only then, do you throw. This fun goes on for hours, although it seems like 20 minutes.

Before you know it, it’s time for the after-party. Some krewes, such as Bacchus, require formal clothes for their balls. The Muses are more casual, and costumes are encouraged.

This year’s after party featured New Orleans’ own Trombone Shorty, who is no longer a shortie anymore. My sister and I loaded up on the catered fried chicken and jambalaya from Jacques Imos and then we danced. At least I think we did. It’s all lost in a fade of exhaustion and Elvi.

The lights at the after party came on around 2 a.m., ending the very long day. I fell asleep at my hotel with the glitter still on face, along with a smile. I’m convinced that riding on a Mardi Gras float is just about the most fun you can do with your clothes on. I can’t wait to do it again in 2013,

Krewe of Muses 2011: Riding on a Mardi Gras Float is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

Today’s Photo Friday comes from Mardi Gras in New Orleans.  Pictured is the lead walking group of the Muses parade, one of the premier Mardi Gras Krewes.  The crowds come out in full-force to see the Muses, an all-women Krewe consisting of 20+ extravagantly designed floats, whose major theme is shoe-oriented.  Many of the float throws contains shoe-adorned beads, wristbands and real glitter-designed shoes.

Photo Friday: Krewe of Muses 2001 Parade at Mardi Gras is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road

This week, I’m heading to New Orleans where I’ll ride in the Krewe of Muses 2011 parade on Thursday night. It’s a family affair, as my sister will be on the float with me and my parents are driving in from Florida to watch the spectacle.

Some people scoff when I tell them that Mardi Gras is a family affair. Beads, beer and boobs – that’s how most people categorize New Orleans. Some people say they’d never go to a Mardi Gras, as they imagine it to be nothing but Jersey Shore style antics. And in the heart of Bourbon Street, that may be true.

But what people don’t understand is that Mardi Gras goes way beyond getting drunk and getting naked. For New Orleanians, Mardi Gras is an organic celebration that has nothing to do with frat boys getting their drunk on. It’s a seasonal holiday, part of the rhythm of the city, that would go on even if all the out-of-towners stayed home.

The Uptown parades are family friendly affairs, where children sit on ladders so they can retrieve the best beads (as a rider, I have to admit that I’m susceptible to a tiny hand reaching out for a throw).

Some of my friends who grew up in New Orleans cite the lights and excitement of night Mardi Gras parades as their first memories. If I was a parent, I wouldn’t hesitate to bring my child to an Uptown parade, as long as you stayed close to Napoleon Ave. and the beginning of the parade route.

For those who live there, Mardi Gras is a time full of crawfish boils and parade parties and catching up with family members who come back to soak it all in. And you gotta mask on Mardi Gras Day. People spend weeks, if not months, plotting the perfect costume – and on Fat Tuesday, the French Quarter belongs to New Orleanians who wander through the less traveled alleys meeting up with friends and admiring each others’ outfits.

My parents, who suffered through a chilly Krewe du Vieux (my first parade) back in the mid-1990s, fit right in to this laissez les bon temps roule atmosphere. They’ve always loved New Orleans, especially the food, and fondly remember their visits during my seven years down there. Age is a state of mind in NOLA, and spotting an septuagenarian at a brass band concert is a regular occurrence.

Krewe of Muses 2011: A Family Mardi Gras is a post from: Chris Around The World: A Journalist's Travels on the Road