You would not go to Disneyland and not ride Space Mountain or Pirates of the Caribbean.
And so you would not come to New Orleans and not take a leisurely stroll through the Vieux Carré, the not so aptly named French Quarter.
When the morning shadows are long, the people clean the sidewalks of to-go cups and broken beads. I found this an optimal time for strolling quickly through the t-shirt and alligator head stalls in the old French Market.
I have believed certain things about the South for a long time. Long-held suppositions that I fully believed I would either see born out or completely dispelled were I to go there.
I was not wrong.
We left Chicago around 4:30 p.m. on a Wednesday, enjoying, as we do, driving at night.
I thought about why we like to do this.
It started with the kids. When they were very young, it was much easier to travel by night so they would sleep. Many of our drives were around 6 to 8 hours in length, which gave us plenty of time to get somewhere and still enjoy some sleep before getting on with our journey the next day.
The question in my mind yesterday was why do we still do this even now that the kids are grown?
The answer, for me, was evident when we woke up in a chilly, but sunny Nashville, Tennessee.