On the weekend that the great Jazz musician Dr John passed away just outside of his hometown of New Orleans, I went down to explore a little bit of the modern spirit of the Big Easy. And no other city in the US has more spirit to see. Not that Nawlins is an entirely American city. That’s the first thing you probably notice upon visiting – its groovy, witchy, wondrous vibe feels both more ancient and freer than the US in toto ever will be. People take it as a truism, of course, that the city on the Mississippi delta, where the most famous musicians, playwrights and even presidential assassins have all made their home over the years, is more the capital of the Caribbean than it is a city of the South. But like all ports, this one welcomes in as much as it dishes out – and, speaking of dishes, what I was particularly interested in during my visit was the food, obviously.

To begin with, I checked into the new Maison de la Luz hotel, a luxury-leaning property designed by Atelier Ace in partnership with Ms Pamela Shamshiri, formerly of the California design collective Commune, who has brought together a wonderfully wild and utterly New Orleanian mélange of influences. Bags down, face refreshed, the first thing I wanted to see was the bottom of some bourbon. So I did. And one drink in, I began to come under the spell of the city, and better appreciate my surroundings.

At that moment, a groovy, boozy Second Line was proceeding through the Tremé neighbourhood in commemoration of Dr John, and much of the city’s inhabitants were drinking and singing and watching their spirits rise amid the cortege. That evening, the band of the famed Preservation Hall, too, would sing their respects to their late friend (and, in New Orleans, you start to get the feeling that either everyone really knew one another, or at least claimed kinship with one and all). Everywhere in town, tourists and natives alike, did their fair share of eulogising at table, over crawfish boils, or beignets, crab claws, po’ boys, fried everything – or, in my case, over crispy Murder Point oysters at Seaworthy.

In the bright light of day (and, especially during the humid assault of summer), New Orleans is not a terribly busy city, and I contentedly joined Ms Shamshiri and her friend, a clairvoyant, on a tour through the new hotel. “What if Iris Apfel were from New Orleans, travelled the world, and came home to open her guesthouse?” Ms Shamshiri said, explaining her vision for the design and décor of Maison de la Luz, as my eyes flitted from Masonic-looking assemblages of mounted horns strung with coral beads and porcelain-tiled fireplaces, hieroglyphic tapestries and smoked mirror columns designed with sacred eye motifs.

After a couple of negronis in the private bar, Bar Marilou, I once again felt the call to go in search of some local food: fried pot pie at Turkey and the Wolf while walking around the Garden District; more oysters at the Commander’s Palace after a jaunt through the Lafayette Cemetery; a life-giving muffuletta at Napoleon House to provide strength after wading through the tourists of the French Quarter, and some wine and nibbles at Bacchanal.

How better to celebrate the ones you have loved, even from afar, and how better to toast a wonderful new enterprise? And where better to do so, than in the most spirited city in… well, anywhere?

maisondelaluz.com