New Orleans: French Quarter & Garden District Bike Tour

4.94

(404 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

I didn’t expect the French Quarter to smell like pralines and river air at the same time. We started right near Canal Street, bikes lined up, and I was already a little nervous (it’s been years since I rode one that wasn’t stationary). Our guide, Marcus, had this slow New Orleans drawl — he joked about “biking slow so you don’t miss the ghosts.” He pointed out the oldest buildings, some leaning just enough to make you wonder how they’re still standing. The streets are bumpy, but you get used to it after a few blocks. There was this moment by the Mississippi where everything felt quiet except for a steamboat horn in the distance. I think that’s when it hit me: this city moves at its own speed.

We rolled into Lafayette Cemetery No. 1, which is honestly nothing like cemeteries back home. The tombs are above ground — Marcus explained why (something about floods and old traditions), but I got distracted by the moss hanging off everything and how hot the stone felt under my hand. There was a group of locals tending flowers on one of the graves; one lady waved as we passed, her hands covered in dirt. I tried to imagine all the stories buried there — it’s not spooky, just weirdly peaceful.

The Garden District is another world altogether. Suddenly you’re pedaling past these huge mansions with wraparound porches and ironwork that looks like lace if you squint. We stopped for water under an oak tree so big it blocked half the street; Marcus told us about who lived in which house (I’d never heard of half of them, but apparently some are famous). The air smelled like magnolias and cut grass, which sounds cliché but it’s true — I caught myself breathing deeper just to take more in. At one point my basket rattled loose and everyone laughed when I tried to fix it; no one seemed in a hurry.

By the time we coasted back toward Canal Street, legs a bit wobbly but not tired exactly, I realized how much ground we’d covered without ever feeling rushed. Something about seeing both sides of New Orleans — Creole streets then American mansions — made me feel like I got a glimpse behind the curtain. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve done it yourself.