VICTORIA HAS NO SECRET

MARDI GRAS.

About a month or so ago, one of my very best friends, who I love to death (even after this horrible weekend trip) called me up with a plan for a weekend adventure. As a general rule of thumb, I’m down for most adventures. Within reason, of course.

The plan: Feb 17th, catch a train out of Birmingham, AL at noon to New Orleans. Arrive around 7PM, party until the next morning at 7AM when our train back to Birmingham departs.

Now, I’ll admit, in theory it sounded like a pretty good plan. I figured I’d sleep the 7 hours it took to get there, be well rested for the 12 hours we’d actually spend in New Orleans and then sleep the 7 hours back to Birmingham. Little did I know all kinds of forces would be working against us. First, the hating ass weather. The rain caused our train to move at snails pace, for safety reasons, delaying our arrival in New Orleans by over 3 hours. Secondly, there was no sleep to be had on the way to New Orleans. I didn’t realize we’d be riding in the unofficial “party train” and would have to listen to loud talking, bad singing and ridiculous arguments the entire trip.

Once we’d finally arrived in New Orleans, we trekked on over to the French Quarter and let me tell you, I was NOT prepared for the madness. Trying to maneuver our way through the crowd was a serious task. I almost felt as if I was in some sort of deranged video game where the goal was to get from one end of Bourbon Street to the other, all the while trying not to slip (read: bust your ass) on random beads strewn across the floor or getting hit in the head with projectile beads being hurled at you from above. Plus, throw in the random attacks from strangers trying to grab you and fights breaking out only a few feet away from you. It was not fun. 

Around 3AM, I couldn’t take it anymore and thankfully neither of my friends could either, so we trekked back on over to the train station which of course wasn’t open and wouldn’t open back up until 5AM. That meant we had to sit outside the train station homeless-style while we waited on the doors to open up all so we could wait another 2 hours before our train would even depart.

Basically spent 18 hours round-trip on a train to spend a good 3 hours at Mardi Gras where we partook in a slice of greasy pizza, one drink and some corner store chicken. That chicken was actually pretty good tho, it might’ve been the best thing about the trip. 

I think it’s safe to say, I’ll never partake in another New Orlean’s Mardi Gras ever again.