I woke up Saturday on the couch in the living room. Growing up we used to keep the Christmas tree in that room, next to a bowl of chocolates. As adults my parents purchased a painting of my sister and a photograph of me from my debutante ball. The photo of me must be 40 x 40. When I woke up every morning, I woke up and looked at a gigantic version of myself.

I groaned and dallied but there was certainly not enough time to linger. The tours would run into each other, sliding into dinner and gambling.

Toast for breakfast, McCafe, then highway 90 east.

A half and hour later I take a right turn at Mardi Gras park and point to the white City Hall building from 1855. It used the be the center of everything, but now it serves as the history museum in Mobile. I explain to Alistair that I reported on the damage to the museum after Katrina for the university paper. So, I'd been there quite a few times.

I led him past the vintage carriage exhibit. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine bumbling down the cobblestone streets, or down Dauphin Street on a sunny day. We saw the miniature replicas of some of the historic houses in Mobile. Then we were lead through the history of the city. I was most interested in a display about Bienville. I didn't know much about him except that all our parks and streets were named for him. He seemed like quite the character, getting snake tattoos and going into battle naked. I told Alistair, "How come no one knows about him?"

"Seems like a good topic for a biopic," he said.

We saw photos of Mobile during the war, we saw a Mardi Gras tableau. We saw the 1865 magazine explosion reenacted (within reason) in a replica room with colored lights and fake noises.

My favorite streets are in the blocks surrounding the museum so I led Alistair down Church Street, past Christ Church built in 1840, undeniably beautiful, made of stone. Further down, a set of beautiful buildings in the Mobile style, the most beautiful being Malaga Inn. The courtyard, with its bubbling fountain, is a must-see. I crossed the street and took Alistair to Spanish Plaza, a park dedicated to the relationship between Malaga, Spain and Mobile. There is another very nice fountain there.

We then took Old Shell Road west for a snack at Carpe Diem, the local coffee spot that was, and still is, a favorite hangout. I walked him to Springhill College to see the Avenue of the Oaks, a long road covered by beautiful old oak trees.

At the house the biggest southern football game of the year, the Iron Bowl, was on TV. The two Alabama rival colleges, Auburn and Alabama play each other.

"No wonder everything was empty," I said to Alistair. I don't normally watch football, but I sat through half the game to give Alistair a true vision of a southern day. I pointed to all the houses in the neighborhood. Cars were filling up all the driveways. "Everyone is having game day parties."

The sun set and our stomachs rumbled at 6:30. My parents, Alistair and myself got in the car and drove east toward the bay.

Felix's restaurant is a new tradition for my family. We usually aim for sunset dinners there, since the restaurant sits on stilts on top of the bay. They serve all the local favorites: seafood fried in cornmeal, hush puppies that shimmer, bisques and gumbo, West Indies salad and lemon icebox cake. During Mardi Gras, moon pies are thrown off the floats to parade-goers. (Even though I'm not a fan, I should note that Mardi Gras originated in Mobile). I write all this only to say that Felix's even serves a moon pie a la mode, you can't get more local than that. My father excused himself from the table to go to the bar to watch the game.

We went directly from dinner to Biloxi, Mississippi to gamble. We arrived at the casino around nine o'clock in the evening, when it was really starting to get crowded. My parents combed the slot machine floor for their favorite game, Wheel of Fortune. Alistair and I settled for one of the old school slots, with a complimentary gin and tonic each.

After an hour, I announced defeat.

"This is the worst I've ever done at a casino," I whined. We all dragged our feet to the valet and waited twenty minutes with a crowd of people also waiting for their cars. It was great people watching. There was a girl in a cocktail dress leaning on her date, a group of over-50s laughing with each other. A guy kept replaying THAT Nick Saban gif (you know the one).

The next day was devoted to seeing friends from high school. The reunions were too short. I could have talked to them for four days straight or more.

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On the last day we had a 4 o’clock flight out which meant we could spend a few hours with my parents, then have lunch at Spot of Tea. It is another place that everyone finds themselves at for Sunday brunch. The temperature had dipped down to the 40s. A shivering walk to the restaurant, a table, orders of the famous seafood bisque for everyone.

At the airport security a man in line was wearing a shirt for Alabama State. The woman waving him through gave him a tsk, tsk.

"You're wearing the wrong shirt!" she said. Auburn had won the game the night before.

I nudged Alistair to prove my point that football was insidious in the south. No one could talk of anything else. He laughed.

Thanksgiving in Mobile - Part Two