Experiences, Travel

Oak Alley Plantation

I’ve been lazy. I haven’t been keeping up with blog posts like I intend to. So this is about three months after I visited Oak Alley, but better late than never. Also it’s super old. Things don’t change that quickly. The grass has probably been cut, and that’s about it.

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Walking in the grass at Oak Alley Plantation in Vacherie, Louisiana. | Dress
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Roots of a live oak and the big house at Oak Alley Plantation.

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Oak Alley is just one of those places. It is absolutely stunning; so much so, it has become iconic. The grounds are an hour outside of New Orleans in Vacherie. Driving between NOLA and Vacherie gives you a good idea of what rural Louisiana looks like. What used to be a running plantation is now a museum with a restaurant and inn serving as a reminder of the American South’s unfortunate history.

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Standing in between the rows of live oaks at Oak Alley Plantation. | Dress | Jean Jacket | Sandals

I remember driving passed Oak Alley at fourteen. My family was visiting relatives after Katrina, and we spent a day driving around the countryside outside of New Orleans. It was dusk when we drove by stopping just outside the front gate. The house was lit up from the outside at the end of a path lined by ancient live oak trees. It was magnificent, and a vision I will never forget. It wasn’t until I was in New Orleans for a bachelorette party a few years ago that I actually toured the plantation. The house is beautiful, but the grounds are the truly wonderful aspect. The plantation earned its name from the twenty-eight live oaks lining a walkway up to the front door of the house. It features a guided tour of the “Big House,” a slavery exhibit, a sugar cane exhibit, and more. There is a restaurant and inn on the grounds. The restaurant has some seriously amazing bread pudding. The gift shop also has some amazing pralines. If you’re lucky, you can have some warm and fresh.

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View of the big house and the live oaks at Oak Alley Plantation.

Some of the oak trees are almost three hundred years old. The larger branches extend and drop to the ground. The roots are knotty and huge. Spanish moss grows on the trees. When the light hits them just right, it’s what bayou dreams are made of. Movies and pictures will never do it justice.

 

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Roots and live oaks at Oak Alley Plantation.

Oak Alley was a sugar cane plantation built on the suffering of slaves. Sugar cane was known as white gold because of how much it was worth. Growing, harvesting, and refining was back breaking and dangerous. Slaves were bought and sold, so people could have their sugar. In those days, there was rich, then there was sugar cane rich. Oak Alley was the latter. The history goes back almost 200 years, but the live oak trees are even older than that. Walking the grounds is simultaneously enchanting and haunting. It’s difficult to think about how one place can be home to so much beauty and misery. All history is fraught with abuse, but it should never be overlooked. Remembering what really happened is an important part of embracing history.

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Experiences, Travel

New Orleans Daddy-Dotter Day

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Starting our day in Jackson Square!
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Exploring the aquarium.
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The most adorable little birds!
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My dad is the cutest.
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I like paddle wheels.
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Dinner at Tujague’s.

Growing up, my dad was always good at carving out time just to spend with me. We would go out to dinner, see dance productions, car shows, and more. As an adult, carving out daddy-dotter time is a little harder. (My dad has always called me “dotter. D-O-T-T-E-R.” He can spell, but he sacrifices grammar for humor.)

Before heading on my grandma’s 80th birthday cruise, my parents and I spent five days in New Orleans with family. The first full day we were there, Mom spent time with friends of hers, so Dad and I were left to fend for ourselves. Our only instructions from Mom: Don’t do anything I want to do. Which left us contemplating all the things she wanted to do that we could jam into one day. We’re asses like that. We decided to continue living on to another day and filled our time with things we’d already done together but not in well over 15 years.

What is the first thing any sane person does in New Orleans? Cafe du Monde is the correct answer, which is what we did. We grabbed two orders of beignets and two cafe au laits to go. We people watched while munching on the food of New Orleans in Jackson Square listening to jazz musicians. I mean, it can’t get more New Orleans than that. Unless of rain, there is always art displayed by their creators lining the square. Dad and I zeroed in on a rather huge image of a bull. He has a thing for cow art, which I have adopted out of love for him. We didn’t take it home. (See “living on to another day.”)

The night before, I had mentioned the aquarium and a boat tour. We bought tickets for the Natchez and headed to the aquarium. I grew up going to the Audubon Aquarium of the Americas. It was one of my favorite places in New Orleans. Not much has changed in the 15 plus years since I’ve been. It’s smaller than I remember, but almost everything is. My dad did, what he probably did when I was little, tagged along as I darted from fishy to fishy. The only real difference time has made is the fact I now refer to clown fish as “Nemos” because when I was little, Finding Nemo didn’t exist yet. Oh, there is now a parakeet exhibit, which was a little bit on the unexpectedly phenomenal side of fun. There were a few hundred bright parakeets bopping around. They were incredibly attracted to Dad, but most people are too.

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I LOVE this picture of my dad and a parakeet.
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I couldn’t stop giggling.

Walking out of the aquarium, the steam calliope from the Natchez bounced off the buildings from half a mile away. I had taken the boat tour about twenty years earlier. My paralyzing fear of falling in and dying in the under currant of the Mississippi kept me from venturing much outside the interior cabin of the boat. This time, I embraced the fear enough to walk around and explore the boat. We wandered to the lowest deck where the steam engine and all the good parts that make it go are held. Dad is a wealth of knowledge and loves engines – in a previous life, he was a mechanic. More than anything, we had a good time laughing watching the river go by.  

Getting off the boat, we realized we were in need of sustenance. I decided on Tujague’s because it’s delicious. (Hindsight, I decided on almost everything. Such is the life of a good dad.) We were there before the dinner doors even opened. We sat down to a lovely meal with quite a view. Dad and I are experienced people watchers. New Orleans is an hott spot for just that with Tujague’s being positioned on the corner of weirdo central.

Daylight was gone, but we weren’t ready to go home yet. We walked through Bourbon Street, which is a real treat even at 6:30 pm on a Sunday evening. Gotta love New Orleans. We continued meandering through the Quarter bopping into art galleries along the way. Accidentally walking passed the Carousel Bar, we decided to go in because I had heard of it but never seen it. Now, I have! With tired feet we decided to head towards home.

Except….

The Westin’s lobby is on the eleventh floor of the building. A bar in the lobby overlooks the river and the quarter. Dad was convinced I had been there when I was itty bitty. (We found out later, I hadn’t.) He knew the view was brilliant, so we didn’t go home just yet. We enjoyed drinks (one virgin and one fully alcoholed) in the lobby bar looking out the huge windows before actually heading home. 

We didn’t get home until 9:00 pm, but we still beat my mom home. I loved all the activities. Nothing we did was particularly new. The most memorable part of the day was spending it with my dad. There are so few daddy-dotter days in adulthood, so each one means a great deal. I have known him my entire life, but I feel like I’m just getting to know him.