USA by Rail – The Big Easy

March 15th 

I left Washington DC in the evening, boarding the southbound Crescent line. This 28-hour train would take me all the way to New Orleans. It was my first time on an overnight train, and I really hoped that I’d be able to get some sleep.

With a total of eight nights planned on an overnight train, this trip simply won’t work if I can’t figure out how to sleep on trains. I brought everything I could think of to ensure a good night’s sleep: a huge inflatable travel pillow, an eye mask, good earplugs, a blanket, comfy sweatpants, melatonin, and Benadryl.

Fortunately, Amtrak seats aren’t bad. They are much bigger than airplane seats and have a ton of legroom. I was surprised at how far they recline. In addition to the footrest, the bottom portion of the seat under your thighs folds up to support your legs. With the seat reclined back and the leg rest folded up, you can get semi-flat. Making a cocoon with my PCT down quilt, I was able to get pretty cozy. I wouldn’t say it was the best sleep I’ve ever had, but it was good enough.

March 16th

It was my one-year anniversary of beginning my Appalachian Trail (AT) thru-hike. It just so happened that my train traveled through the woods of north Georgia in the morning, not far from where the AT begins at Amicalola Falls. Memories flooded back as I looked out the window at the familiar Georgia woods. I thought about the new crop of prospective AT thru-hikers beginning their journey, undoubtedly filled with excitement and nerves.

My train arrived in New Orleans at 9 pm, right on time. I walked a few blocks to The Quisby Hostel, got checked in, and went straight to bed.

March 17th

I checked the forecast when I woke up. “Storms for the next several hours. Gusty winds and small hail are possible. 100% chance of rain.” 

Oh. I had planned to spend the day walking around the city. Now what? 

It was my only day in New Orleans so it was now or never. I am a hardened thru-hiker, after all. A little rain can’t stop me! I donned my Frogg Toggs and went for it. Pounded by rain, I walked about 2 miles to the French Quarter. 

Within an hour water was cascading over the top of gutters, bursting from drainage pipes, and even blasting up from a rattling manhole cover. I thought about Katrina. If the drainage system was suffering after just an hour of heavy rain, no wonder Katrina had caused such devasting results.

The smell of hot beignets and coffee cut through the rain from the famous Cafe du Monde. Despite the weather, the line for the cafe went halfway around the block. The line moved quickly though as a 3-man jazz band entertained us.

In no time I had a paper bag of three beignets, with about a cup of powdered sugar in it. Under the sidewalk awning, I huddled on a wet bench to enjoy my warm fried treat. Dozens of cruise ship tourists in emergency plastic ponchos walked by, like me, trying to make the most of their day in New Orleans.

I walked around the French Quarter, including Bourbon Street, the famous party street. At 11 am in the rain, it was all but deserted. I decided it’d be worth coming back at night to get the full experience, so after dinner I ventured out from the hostel again. 

Approaching Canal Street in the evening, I stumbled upon the Saint Patrick’s Day parade. It was super fun! I never thought I’d hear New Orleans brass bands and traditional Irish reels at the same time, but somehow among the crazy costumes, dancing in the street, and beer flowing freely, it worked. Everyone seemed to be genuinely having a good time. New Orleans knows how to do a parade.

I wandered back over to Bourbon Street, which in complete contrast to earlier in the day, had come alive with street performers, neon lights, and street food. Night clubs pumped dance music and revelers spilled out into the street with huge plastic cups holding signature cocktails.

I walked up and down the street soaking in the vibrant, yet lighthearted, energy. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it. Where there is heavy partying, it’s not always the most enjoyable experience, especially for a sober solo traveler. Perhaps it was because the night was still relatively young, but being there around 10 pm, it really was a good vibe.

With a train to catch in the morning, I didn’t stay out too late. I again walked the long walk back to the hostel, where I crashed for the night before heading west the next day.