Home Brings Out the Best in Me.. That’s Travel

As I went to book a last-minute flight home to Louisiana, a guy I'd recently started spending time with tried to convince me otherwise. He couldn’t fathom why I’d want to spend money traveling home again, especially since I’d been a few months ago for my alma mater’s homecoming.

A co-worker of mine, during my Beverly Hills luxury retail days, had shared a similar sentiment. I’d take off work and he’d say “where you going this time?” The times I’d tell him home to Louisiana, he’d tell me how I could’ve spent that 300 or whatever dollars on a flight to Cabo or somewhere.

“You can save that money for traveling.”

“There’s no place like South Louisiana” sign at SoLou restaurant in Baton Rouge, LA.

Visiting home isn’t traveling?

Okay, home is where you’re from, so yeah, you’ve been there before, but does it not being a new place mean you can’t have a new experience?

Every time I visit home, I get something new out of it, even if I’m going to the same ol’ places.

I refill. I recharge. I tap back into what bred Te’Keya Krystal into Te’Keya Krystal. (This — staying rooted, not getting lost in the hooplah — is very important while living in Los Angeles, navigating the superficiality that is Hollywood.)

This particular travel home to Louisiana, I actually went to quite a few places I’d never been. I saw my close girlfriend’s daughter, that’s like a niece to me, march in a Mardi Gras parade in Lafayette; I hadn’t been to one of her performances before. I had Sunday brunch at a new posh restaurant in Baton Rouge named SoLou, which is a mashup of the term South Louisiana. Then, I finally achieved my goal of catching the Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club’s infamous parade that rolls every carnival season on Mardi Gras Day.

I’ve attended dozens of parades, many of which I was performing in, marching with an auxiliary group of my high school band. While in college, I was no stranger to hopping on I-10 East out of Lafayette to make my way to “the city” for that NOLA action. Zulu, however, rolls at 8 o’clock in the morning; I don’t recall ever making it to the parade route in the thick of New Orleans early enough to catch it. This time, a decade after high school, we did!

I caught my first coconut and I was too bucked up.

You won’t fully feel the coconut reference until you visit New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Hand painted coconuts are a signature “throw” from the floats of Zulu. When you attend the first parade on the culmination of Mardi Gras season, you’ll hear people screaming “throw me something, mister!” as they wave their hands for a coveted coconut. Me, I found favor in getting specific with ‘em.. I making eye contact and yelling, “COCONUUUUUUT!”

A road trip is really traveling

As I mentioned, Ms. Last Minute Lucy, that is me, waited until right before the last weekend of Mardi Gras season to book a flight home to Louisiana. Baby, I got to Google flights looking for a flight to New Orleans and Google flights told me, “I bet you won’t.” Hmph. You are got darn right I won’t. $800+?! No ma’am, no Sam, no butterbeans, no greens. Now that is where I draw the line on traveling home; I don’t want to spend over 500 dollars (of my money) on a flight unless I’m traveling abroad.

I booked a flight into Houston instead of into an airport in Louisiana and decided “we’re going on a trip on our favorite rocket ship.” And by rocket ship, I mean the black Lexus my girl Gabrielle from the 225 (Baton Rouge area) drives.

A considerable amount of Louisianians moved next door to Texas in adulthood, giving me homegirls and homeboys from high school and college where I can hitchhike a ride. For big Louisiana events, such as Bayou Classic, college homecomings, Essence Festival, and of course, Mardi Gras, a number of Louisiana natives residing in Texas drive home for the festivities, and my happy-go-lucky-behind isn’t afraid to ask if they’d like a road trip buddy. This is definitely a perk of being outgoing and friendly that has saved me some serious dollars.

My 6-day Travel From Los Angeles to New Orleans

We had a whole sequence of events on our road trip from Houston to New Orleans, with stops in Lafayette and Baton Rouge.

Friday

I flew from Los Angeles to Houston Friday.

Saturday

We hopped on the road to Louisiana Saturday morning. We spent the afternoon in Lafayette — catching a day time parade, having frozen adult beverages, then a mouth-watering crab cake burger (a “Krabby Patty” as Spongebob might call it) from Twins. We continued on Saturday evening to Baton Rouge, arriving at Gabrielle’s parents home and chatting it up with her super cute mom.

Sunday

Sunday afternoon, Taylor drove from Lafayette to do brunch with us in Baton Rouge, then we went to the Mall of Louisiana and visited my former manager at Dillard’s. After Taylor got back on the road to Lafayette, Gabrielle and I ended our evening by popping up on another one of our mutual girlfriends in the Baton Rouge area; and of course, we stopped for daiquiris along the way.

(Side note about the stop at Dillard’s… I only wanted to go to visit Marcy, a co-worker-turned-manager, but I ended up buying my first leather jacket and I felt like a rockstar! Ain’t no vegan leather either. What did Beyoncé say? I like expensive fabrics [sticks out tongue].)

Monday

Being an HR professional, Monday was a work-from-home day with Gabrielle’s two children (a Pomeranian and a Yorkie) running around our feet. Monday evening, Gabrielle’s childhood bestfriend, Minneapolis-based content creator and fellow corporate girl, Bria Black, came over to Gab’s parents’ home with daiquiris and we sat talking and laughing. Gabrielle and I then got on the road to New Orleans late Monday night.

Related: My Adventure Around Minneapolis with Minneapolis-based Content Creator Bria Black

Do you think because we got to New Orleans during the wee hours of Monday night (Tuesday morning) after already ripping-and-running the past few days and had plans to go to an 8am parade that we were going to go straight to bed? If you think so, think again.

at a local spot on the Westbank of New Orleans, Boomers Down the Hatch, very content after a serving of lemon pepper wings fresh out the grease at 3am

We made it to a friend of Gabrielle’s from high school, fixed a plate of food from their Mardi Gras Ball leftovers, took a shot and were up talking. I didn’t think Gabrielle had anymore drive left in her, so I told my cousin it wasn’t looking good for me seeing her, to which she responded, “girl, I’m coming get you!” (I love that energy.) I shared my location, and my cousin Raven was there in no time. Gab hopped in Raven’s car with us and we went to her baby daddy’s go-to late night spot, a humble hall named Boomers Down the Hatch. It’s a local, hole-in-the-wall type of vibe with generous pours and tasty bar food. Oh my heavens Lord, the chicken wings tasted like they were fried in butter; they were so crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside. Y’all don’t understand, I’m having a moment simply thinking about them. I didn’t even get a clip of them for my TikTok video because I was so gone.

Fat Tuesday

We got back to Gab’s high school friend’s AirBnB around 4 or 5am Tuesday morning and were being awakened around SEVEN to get ready to head to the parade route. By car, we got over to where Zulu would be passing and I was thinking, “the parade hasn’t even started.. you could’ve at least let us finish a sleep cycle,” but it’s good he didn’t because traffic became gridlocked shortly after we’d parked. We went by his cousin’s place, that sits a block or so over from the parade route, and had a homemade breakfast by some of their friends that had come over before the parade as well. We chilled and drank stovetop-prepared hot chocolate as they checked the parade tracker on their phones. When Zulu made its way down closer to us in the Treme District of New Orleans, we geared up and walked out to the route.

We danced in the middle of the street, we screamed and hollered, we caught shiny objects flying above our heads. We had a blast. And it’s true what they say, time flies when you’re having fun, because we looked up and we were looking at the final float of Zulu 2022.

dancing in the middle of the street is normal (almost required) behavior during Mardi Gras in New Orleans

We hopped on I-10 West out of New Orleans, stopped at LSU lakes to meet Gabrielle’s mom for Gab’s dogs that she'd babysat while we were in New Orleans, then made our way into Houston around midnight. We should’ve taken an immediate dive into bed, but my fat a** wanted to bake cookies. (Hey, Ash Wednesday is the beginning of Lent and I knew I’d be giving up processed sugars. I’ll tell y’all more about that in “while in Los Angeles > eat”.)

Ash Wednesday

I flew from Houston to Los Angeles.

I met new friends. I discovered new things about old friends. I had new experiences. I traveled.

It was money well spent, and I’d do it again. I will do it again.

For more from my travels both domestic and abroad, visit the travel diary home page here on aroundLAwithTK.com. (Yes, click the colored words.)

I’m always on-the-go, and sharing this information with you because you can too! Enter your email address below to join the blog’s mailing list; I’ll only slide into your inbox when it’s good good 💗