New Orleans holds that title of unique stardom for the spirited jazz playing on every corner, spicy cuisine of endless options and notably, Mardi Gras, but for me the true unique aspect of the city is the Saint Louis cemeteries. Lying at the northern edge of the French Quarter, the vaults rise up in rows for blocks like petite houses to the bygone New Orleanians. One of my many oddities is that I take pleasure in meandering about cities of the dead and this necropolis ranks in the top five that I have explored. The walls encompassing the weathered brick vaults and stone tombs are multitasking as barriers to the living and as chambers to the less affluent dead to maximize the crowded spaces. One the note of crowded spaces, the oldest portion of the cemetery known as 'No. 1' is subsequently the oldest of the areas, dating back to the founding of the grounds in 1789 is an eerie place to course through and am not entirely too sure about which way is the exit. As a person of more than six feet in height, these mausoleums loomed above me and seemingly wanted me to stay lost in their labyrinth of the lasting temple of what remains of citizens past.
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