Hello lil Druckers. Mama missed you. I’m back from New Orleans, but almost too tired to type. So I will tell much of this story in pictures. The day I was scheduled to leave LA, I found out that the hotel I’d booked for three nights was infested with blood suckers, and I don’t mean vampires:
No, I’m not going to tell you the name of the hotel, but I will say do your homework, people. (Read the reviews at tripadvisor.com.) So that… happened, and I had to scramble to find new accommodations if I wanted to go at all. Luckily, awesome pals Andrew & Ashley were staying at this unbelievably fabulous hotel, and they had a room for me:
The Omni Royal New Orleans is in the heart of the French Quarter. Aside from the spectacular location, impeccable cleanliness, lovely views and rich history, they feature a rooftop pool & bar, which is where I slept off the exhaustion of my red-eye flight and drank the first of many cocktails:
To say I love this hotel is like saying the Pope is vaguely interested in Christianity. LOVE. On Thursday night, the phone in the bathroom rings just as I am getting out of the shower. I look at it with disbelief. Who even knows I’m here? And can they see me right now? Naked?! No, it’s just the front desk, asking how I’m enjoying my stay thus far. (I’d been there for all of eight hours.)
I told them that the room was beautiful (if a bit petite, old hotels are like that) but that the constant elevator dinging was annoying me. She offered to move me immediately, in spite of my confession that I’d already used the shower and napped in the bed. Then she asked, would I like to join a free loyalty club and get free juice and coffee delivered to my door every morning? Why, yes ma’am. Yes I would. See? You already love this hotel a little bit too.
More NOLA tomorrow. For some reason, I cannot stop speaking with a Southern accent. So y’all come back now, hear?