From the moment we arrived at the airport in New Orleans, people were so willing, and practically eager to help us find our way around, as well as offer tips on the best places to go. Maybe it was because we had just dealt with an entire day of flight delays and rude United Airlines employees, but the amount of hospitality we were given was almost shocking.
We spent the first two days at Jazz Fest, where complete strangers offered to show us around for the few days we were in town. We also managed to maneuver our way out of the massive crowd of people watching Bruce Springsteen. Instead of people getting upset as we got in their way and pushed past them in the sticky heat that was a blend of Louisiana humidity and festival sweatiness, people cheers'd us as we squeezed passed. Whenever we thought people we're about to get upset at us for stepping on their bags or blankets (mind you the crowd was so big we were at this for about 15 minutes), they were actually telling us to walk on top of their blankets. I couldn't help but think we wouldn't have made it out alive if it weren't for that southern hospitality.
Whether it was a tattoo artist or even a strange character on the street, everyone seemed to be so genuinely friendly.
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