Leaving the Taco Bell in Natchez, it was a sunny day with light traffic as we cruised a two-lane highway down the western side of Mississippi. We reached the state line after 45 minutes, pulling over for an ecstatic Shelloo to race over and grab a selfie with a new state sign.

"Bienvenue en Louisiane."

We only had a couple hours of driving today, so I figured it was time to finally stop in Baton Rouge for something that's been on the todo list for a while. In addition, we could also afford to stop at a pottery shop for Shelloo and a Target for the both of them.

The thing I didn't realize was that people can spend 2.5 hours in a Target.

Staying in the car and settling in to read, figuring it would only be about 45 minutes, it was nearly an hour when I finally grew tired of the Baton Rouge heat. I went inside, ate some pizza and quickly grew bored of the Target. Returning to the car, time ticked by. 1.5 hours, 1 hour 45.

Of course these trips aren't only for me, it's just that I would have went and got a new county courthouse or watched March Madness at the nearby Chili's with this block of time. Apparently Shelloo found a nice dress and Rosie found a lovely romper though, haha.

Sometimes I like to think of the random places where my friends might be on any given day. If this thought occurred to you in March of 2018, well, the above view was where I was planted.

With the schedule now tightened up, we didn't bother with parking garages or surface lots in downtown Baton Rouge. Parking at a meter and throwing in a couple quarters, it was only just up the road to the Old State Capitol, beloved for its wonderful dome and as a symbol of Baton Rouge.

The Territory of Orleans would become the 18th state as "Louisiana" on April 30th, 1812. And even before statehood, there was a constant push to have a more conveniently located capital than New Orleans, down in the very south of the state at the mouth of the Mississippi.

In 1829, legislature voted to move up to Donaldsville, halfway between New Orleans and Baton Rouge, but by 1831, they found the quarters in Donaldsville to be unacceptable and moved back to New Orleans.

By 1845, legislation was passed that the capital needed to be moved from New Orleans due to fears of all the power being in one city (New Orleans was the 4th biggest city in the US at the time). Baton Rouge was chosen as a site for the new capital and a parcel of land was donated on a high bluff overlooking the Mississippi. The area is said to be near or at the location where French explorers first noticed a red stick placed by native groups to signal a meeting (i.e. a baton rouge).

During the Civil War, New Orleans was captured by Union forces and the Confederates subsequently fled Baton Rouge. The Union forces would use this building first as a jail, then as a garrison home for their black soldiers. It's during this time of housing soldiers that the building caught fire twice and the interior was heavily damaged. The building was found in ruins when the government of Louisiana eventually returned.

Through the 1870s and into the early 1880s, the capitol was extensively renovated and modified by architect William A. Freret, a man who mostly designed post offices and courthouses in the American South. Freret is the man credited with installing the ornate spiral staircase and the mesmerizing glass dome that are the most notable features today.

The Old State Capitol remained in use until the new Louisiana State Capitol, the tallest state capitol in America, was finished in 1932. Here is my photo of the new capitol from 2012.

Walking back to the car, I noticed this white tower and feared that it might be a lighthouse I didn't know about. Better to take a picture I thought.

Circling the tower, there was a plaque indicating that it was on the National Register of Historic Places, but not the actual name or purpose of the structure. Seriously?

Turns out this is The Standpipe. A water tower constructed in 1888 next to a water works building that is long gone. The tower held treated Mississippi River water, and then well water, until it was no longer used after 1961.

Finishing the last of the drive to New Orleans, I briefly thought of driving out of the way to take the impressive Lake Pontchartrain Bridge, but Rosie & Shelloo got their money's worth regardless as we passed those Louisiana swamps and flooded forests that line the interstates down here.

In New Orleans, the most fascinating part of our stay was our accommodations. Built in 1861, the St. Vincent's Infant Home was founded by the Daughters of Charity.

The 1875 Report of Children Dispersed to Children's Asylums, City of New Orleans frequently lists St. Vincent's with examples of "mother: dead, father: sick and destitute", "Father dead & mother has three other children to support.", and "supposed born last night (...) found in Macarty Square by the police."

The orphanage was open until the 1970s and then purchased in 1994 by Peter Schreiber and Sally Leonard, who fixed up the building and opened it as a hotel. Things have went downhill since that time though and it now stands as a hotel/hostel/long-term stay.

Reading the reviews and sizing up the neighbourhood on Google StreetView, I was on the fence about booking this place. Even the Lonely Planet guide states, "The orphanage is a guesthouse these days (not recommended), and can be visited on a two-hour tour with the tour company French Quarter Phantoms."

How could we ignore the warnings of the Lonely Planet guide?!? LOL.

Another problem was that I wanted to surprise Rosie with staying here, so I was struggling with accessing her appetite for sleeping in questionable places. I knew she'd stayed at the hotel in Harbour Grace, but Harbour Grace Newfoundland also doesn't have many creepy crawlies or nefarious characters.

In the end, things worked out great as Rosie loved this place just as much as I did. And Shelloo also thought it was hilarious. I mean, the courtyard was closed at night by the original gate that kept the children inside! That's pretty badass if you ask me.

This wasn't just staying in a place to save a historic building either. The price was incredibly low, especially in relation to the other hotels of New Orleans. The $400 price difference between two nights here and two nights at the next cheapest hotel sealed it for me.

Lastly, the St. Vincent's Home wasn't a case of staying somewhere where management had completely gutted everything, basically constructing a Holiday Inn Express inside a historic shell. This felt so authentic that it was like one day they sent out the last of the orphans, then the next day they started accepting reservations from goobers trying to escape Newfoundland winters.

The headboards were neat while everything else was pretty spartan. No TV, no paintings, the bathroom door didn't seal the best - all the type of things you have a laugh at if you like this type of accommodation; or the things you complain about if you expect your $95/night to get you the Hilton.

That being said, the reviews of this hostel/hotel are a hilarious mixed bag. There are people who I'd like to be friends with who laugh at the quirks and appreciate the history. Then there are people who complain and say this place is a mix between a "mental asylum and an abattoir", one that provides you with the feeling of "what it's like to sleep in a condemned building."

As someone who has slept in a condemned building, I say pfffffffft!

Sadly, the whiny people are going to win. The St. Vincent's Home was recently purchased by a local developer who plans to reduce the number of rooms, add conference space & turn the asylum into a "luxury boutique hotel". Ugh.

Even in the comments on the St. Vincent's facebook page, there are people asking if things will stay the same, and the owner says the building is historic and therefore they can't tear it down, but it'll be heavily renovated inside.

The St. Vincent's home was simply such a fun, interesting place to stay & I cherish that we crossed paths with it before this redevelopment.

After relaxing in our room, I made the call on where to go for dinner because I wanted to watch my Kansas Jayhawks take on the Clemson Tigers. And after I picked the perfect place for us to stay, I then botched dinner.

The St. Charles Tavern looked like a good bar where we could watch the game - and it has plenty of good reviews to this day - but the Po Boys were dry and mediocre, my meatball sub was average, and the crab cakes were just aight.

So my apologies to the b'ys Shelloo and Rosie, but at least we got to watch Kansas demolish Clemson? And use Rosie's phone to download the Yahoo app so I could participate in my fantasy baseball draft?

(By the way, thanks again Rosie. Because of that, I got Walker Buehler with pick #320 and he is still an outstanding fixture on my club as the 5th best pitcher in all of baseball.)

Squeezing into a jammed streetcar, it was now time to avenge that missed opportunity when Geordie got food poisoning and we couldn't do Bourbon Street properly.

Double-fisting, beads, loud women dancing in the streets. It was all a very good time. Especially when I went to grab a drink and came back to find Shelloo and Rosie gone. They thought I could see them dancing, but I didn't notice them & suddenly I was on Bourbon Street very intoxicated and alone.

Thankfully I found them after a few minutes, dancing with said loud women in the street, haha.

It seemed like only a few minutes later we were back at the orphanage, everyone else in their room, while we dawdled and listened to the strange chirps and noises of southern insects in the courtyard.

We had bougie reservations the next morning for the fanciest breakfast of my life. We were headed to Brennan's, known for their lavish brunch and inventing Bananas Foster - bananas, vanilla ice cream, butter, brown sugar, cinnamon, dark rum & banana liqueur all heated together in a flashy display cart right next to your table.

Apparently Shelloo's father has always talked about this place for some reason unbeknownst to her, and while I didn't know anything about Brennan's prior to this trip, this interior was so magnificent that I was suddenly ecstatic her father knew this place somehow.

We were led through a narrow hall with varying rooms on each side, then into a larger restaurant space with a courtyard to our left and mint green lattices dominating the seating area, accented by rouge chairs, lamps, whimsical paintings and amazing chandeliers shaped like inverted macaroons. I was so excited by the interior that I wanted to photograph it like an old Quebec hockey arena or a lighthouse, but it seemed out of place in such a highbrow atmosphere, with clientele who wanted to enjoy their craft cocktails without a bridge camera pointed in their face.

I know my ass was on Bourbon Street just 12 hours earlier, but a Bloody Mary with a piece of okra as garnish? That's an automatic purchase anytime it's on offer.

As for the actual meal, I foolishly took this opportunity to try crawfish when the only thing that had crawfish was the omelette. It was just a fishy, basic omelette, and for this being the most expensive breakfast I'd ever had, I should have been smarter with my menu decision.

Shelloo's bacon and egg risotto (above) looked and must've tasted so much better.

(Pro-tip: Shelley also got a complimentary apron, creme brûlée, and a pink sash out of the meal since it was her birthday and Rosie mentioned this during the reservation. Make sure you mention it's your birthday if you head to Brennan's to celebrate.)

After breakfast, Rosie went off to hang on Bourbon Street and listen to street music, while Shelloo accompanied me north of the French Quarter to the New Orleans Municipal Auditorium.

While Canadians, Midwesterners and New Englanders might automatically associate auditoriums with hockey, New Orleans wasn't exactly a hockey hotbed and this building was instead built to host carnival balls and any sizable concert that would've went to the old French Opera House which burned down in 1919.

Elvis would perform here in the 1950s, Led Zeppelin in the 1970s and ABA basketball from 1969 to 1970. The New Orleans Jazz (now the Utah Jazz) played their first season here and at the Loyola Field House, before moving to the Louisiana Superdome one year later. In the 1990s, the City of New Orleans decided to bring hockey to the Municipal Auditorium, installing a rink that could be taken down into a concert hall, then back to a basketball court, then back to a Mardi Gras floor, all in one day.

This renovation drew an expansion club from the ECHL and the New Orleans Brass were born. Sadly, they would only last 5 seasons with 3 of them at the municipal auditorium. The Brass did well when playing here, but their attendance plummeted when they decided to move to the new New Orleans Arena (now the Smoothie King Center). In addition, when the Charlotte Hornets moved to New Orleans, they demanded that the third-tier, ECHL Brass hockey team pay to switch over the hardwood floor to ice and back.

Unable to pay for that & without a contract to move back to the municipal auditorium, the Brass folded and hockey left New Orleans.

Hurricane Katrina left the municipal auditorium under 5 feet of water, ruining all of the electrical and mechanical equipment that was located in the basement.

Vacant since that time, the building has suffered from small fires started by teenagers, trespassers and the homeless. Meanwhile, the police usually tell people to call the parks department to report illegal activity & the parks department will tell you to call the police.

There is hope though, as FEMA provides money for the renovation of decimated buildings due to natural disasters, but the City of New Orleans and FEMA have been in arbitration for nearly 15 years. Finally, just recently, FEMA's offer of $44 million has pushed the City of New Orleans towards a possible plan to renovate the municipal auditorium into their city hall.

In the meantime, bottles of water from Hurricane Katrina relief efforts still sit in the middle of the ballroom floor (or at centre ice, if that's your thing).

Unfortunately we weren't going to be seeing any Hurricane Katrina bottled water today.

I already thought there were enough problems when I saw the number of citizens hanging out in the surrounding Louis Armstrong park, but then I discovered that there was also a race going on, with security and even some of New Orleans' finest.

Blocked by a 5k/half-marathon race. Bah!

Even if we failed at the municipal auditorium, I was enjoying that it brought us north of Bourbon Street and down some new streets I hadn't explored previously. All of this was reminding me of how much I love this city.

It feels like New Orleans is replaced as my 5th favourite city every time I go to Baltimore, but this trip made me bump Baltimore and put New Orleans back in the top 5. It's just a never-ending slugfest between two great cities.

Continuing up Bourbon Street on our wander, we met up with Rosie, and eventually found another party street that I'd never heard of. This was Frenchman Street, over in the Marigny District.

We ended up finding this great patio that wasn't too busy, encased in iron railings and all of this was amongst perfect weather. This felt like the Bourbon Street for people who don't want such a gong show as Bourbon Street.

The next table was giving us the business about how many photos we were taking, so that's why I never got one of the whole balcony. And then I didn't get one from the street because the beers had me feeling light and smiley and forgetful.

As the evening moved into the night, we took it easier, with Rosie going to a concert at Preservation Hall and Shelloo and I lazily meandering down Bourbon Street.

After Beale Street, Bourbon Street last night, and all the fried food we'd been eating, we were chill and not really looking to get on 'er.

One fun thing was that we were waiting in a line next to a couple that was watching the Villanova game on their phone (since Americans have 17TB data plans and no telecom monopoly gouging them). Noticing that I was trying to slyly watch, they laughed and let me into their huddle, where we all watched the game there on the street. As it ends up, the guy of the relationship actually went to Villanova!

While I wanted to get moving the next morning, it was Shelloo's actual birthday and Rosie and I were going to go whatever she wanted.

So off we headed to Cafe Du Monde, a place with 31000 Google Reviews and a serious line that I would never have waited in otherwise. That can be the beauty of friends though, as after we grabbed a seat 30 minutes later, the piping hot, encased in powdered sugar, fresh beignets were unbelievable. It was like biting into thick humid air but instead of air it was sugar. This was totally worth waiting in line.

Plus there was a really annoying guy pontificating in line for all 30 minutes, so I spent the majority of that time amused with how much he was annoying Shelloo :) And we were standing in the shadow of the St. Louis Cathedral and the Robbo ledge from Road Fools 5 - i.e. life was perfectly grand.

We'd soon waddle back to the rental car and head east.

Continue to Part 5...