Through peaks and valleys, we did NOLA in style. Town car service to our edge of French quarter accommodations and an elevator ride to the 48th floor where we couldn’t find our room. 4808 was labeled the Cadillac suite and that couldn’t be right. We joked that Mike Tyson was behind the door playing a white grand piano with a tiger stretched out on top. We opened the door to a giant room With a killer view o the mighty Mississippi. I looked at Justin with jaw dropping shock. “Clearly, they know we are a big deal” actually went through my head. “This is awesome” were the words that followed. I ate those words shortly after they came out as we couldn’t seem to find any beds in the room. Huh. I called the front desk and explained the confusion.
Operator: did the person checking you in not say anything hun?
Me: um No.
Operator: I’m sorry Mr. Robertson we are completely sold out and had to upgrade you to a suite.
Me: but there are no beds.
Operator: yes but I can have a cot sent up. It’s jazz fest.
Me: I called months ago to let you know we would be arriving after 1 am. I requested a room with 2 queen beds.
Operator: ….it’s jazz fest.
This conversation was followed up with a visit from a lady from housekeeping whom we were clearly disrupting. In the end we ended up with 2 cots, a pull out sofa and a view for $120 a night. We would later find this also came with an 8:00 am wake up call of jack-hammering from a floor above.
Off to a good start.
Determined to make the most of the situation, we headed out to see what Bourbon st. was like at 3:00 am on a Thursday. Our driver made it sound like you could find good times 24/7. All we found were strip clubs and frat boys.To each their own I guess. We wandered the sticky street for a half-hour before calling it a bust and headed back to our room(?) for some sleep.
At that point, we didn’t know that “sleep” meant 4 hours.