Afloat.

Works for me.

New Orleans, LA – Night oozes over the Mississippi like an oil spill, the shore twinkling like a string of Mardi Gras beads.

With it, a chill, despite only being 5 p.m.

Our ship was 90 minutes late leaving port due to traffic on the river, but we’re finally underway. Naturally, we arrived painfully early to climb aboard.

At least we have a glass of sparkling wine.

Morning in New Orleans was about decisions: The Ruby Slipper Café is known for its eggs Benedict, prepared several ways. The Peacemaker came to the rescue: one biscuit covered in Applewood smoked pork, another in fried chicken. And, naturally, buttery Hollandaise sauce, which is usually something of which I’m not a fan. So smooth, and so rich.

New Orleans is about eating, isn’t it?

“Laissez les bons temps rouler” goes the local expression – roller bags clacking over the broken pavement, we do just that.

Ships ahoy.