So I thought about where we'd like to go for our anniversary trip. I thought about Bora Bora, New Zealand, or even just a low-key Seaside, FL trip. But neither was in our budget or convenient. {I'm kidding about a few of these...}
While day-dreaming of these island getaways, the March issue of Southern Living came and had a wonderful write up about Lafayette: The Tastiest Town.
This sounded perfect; one hour's drive away; good eating; good music. So I did some internet research and decided we'd stay in Breaux Bridget at a Cajun cottage. We'd drive into Lafayette at our leisure; we'd explore some of cajun country that I nor Andrew had done much of before.
On Friday, we headed out. We pulled in here and Andrew says, "What have you done?"
Oh, he of little faith...
It ended up being the most charming and confessed with the compliment of, "You redeemed yourself; this is perfect."
It was as peaceful as it looks.
We arrived late afternoon and after we got settled, took a 20 minute drive to Lafayette where we ate at Cochon. It was the most wonderful. The atmosphere and service was excellent. The smells from the wood-burining oven was intoxicating, especially for me with no alcohol consumption. And the food, well that is worth salivating over.
Saturday morning, we skipped the complimentary breakfast for a more vivacious one at Cafe des Amis. We got there at 8:15 am to learn that we were quite late. The zydeco band was just getting set up, but the patrons, well they were a few beers and cocktails in at that early hour. Being from south Louisiana, I still couldn't believe my eyes. It's 8:15 and they're drinking. It wasn't game day, Mardi Gras, a wedding, or a funeral. Any from the aforementioned, I would have understood. But this, this was no reason at all.
So when in
Andrew got a White Russian, and I got a Virgin Mary.
It was something else. It was sensory over-load but in the most perfect way. The dancing was something to be seen.
We had a low-key day of shopping around town, riding on gravel roads, listening to accents, and a mandatory stop at Poupart's bakery for me. It's owned by a Parisian, and it's evident.
I wanted to go to La Poussiere cajun dance hall, but we were all zydeco'd out by evening. We skipped some things on the itinerary for a low-key dinner and movie instead. We even skipped brunch the next day at The French Press, which I heard I will regret but maybe next time.
We opted for breakfast on our front porch and another mandatory stop to yet another bakery: Meche's. Oh, dear Lord, thank you for Meche's.
We took our donuts and pastries, put on a sermon download from Brian Habig of Downtown Presbyterian Church, and through the swamps and cypress trees, we hit the road back to Baton Rouge.
Happy Anniversary to us! Three years of being married to your best friend can sharpen a person. It has been that, sharpening. But it's also been the biggest blessing. I am blessed beyond measure.
29 weeks pregnant.
Next year, we'll have to budget for a babysitter...my how things are about to change.
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