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Illustration by Rui Ricardo
We boarded the train at dawn. The stainless-steel cars glowed beneath the streetlamps of downtown Mobile, Alabama, ready for the engine’s pull. Inside our coach car, we hoisted our bags into the overhead storage and settled into two navy-blue leather seats. I peered out our window, where a line of passengers still waited to show the conductor their tickets. A young couple in shorts and sandals. A group of women wearing matching pink family-reunion T-shirts. A father and his elementary-age son, who wore glasses and a flat-billed hat and held his dad’s hand.
My husband and I were bound for New Orleans, the train’s fifth and final stop. Amtrak only resumed the Gulf Coast route in August, some 20 years after Hurricane Katrina laid waste to wide swaths of the track. On I-10, the drive between the two cities would have taken us two hours. Instead, we’d opted for a four-hour train journey with four Mississippi stops along the way. Our decision was born of curiosity, mostly. As lifelong residents of the southeastern United States, where cars are plentiful but train travel is a novelty, taking an Amtrak trip sounded like a check-the-box experience in itself.
At exactly 6:30 a.m., the train platform outside my window began to glide out of view. “Choo choo!” called a little girl behind me. Two middle-aged women clinked plastic cups filled with white wine they’d purchased from the cafe cart. I smiled. The rail line’s name, Mardi Gras Service, felt right.
We chugged west, the train’s horn calling, scenes of morning life captured like grainy snapshots in my window. Shirts fluttered from a clothesline. A field burrowed beneath a blanket of mist. A dog with perked ears barreled toward the train, barking angrily behind a chain-link fence.
Illustration by Rui Ricardo
At one point we slowed, waiting for a freight train to pass on a parallel track. Yards away, an old man sitting on his porch shaded his eyes to look at us. I wondered if he lived in that house decades ago when passenger trains used to be a familiar sight in these parts. We began moving again, and he raised his thin arm and waved.
• • •
The train line hugging the Gulf Coast can be traced to the Gulf Wind, which began running between Jacksonville and New Orleans in 1949. When Amtrak assumed operation of most American intercity passenger lines in 1971, it discontinued the route. It wasn’t until 1993 that Amtrak established rail service between Los Angeles and Miami, and in so doing, restored the former Gulf Wind line as part of the cross-country journey known as Sunset Limited. Though the full trip to Miami didn’t last, the Gulf Coast portion did, with the Sunset Limited terminating its line in Orlando.
But in 2005, Hurricane Katrina spared no mercy on the Gulf or its infrastructure. It blasted through more than 100 miles of track, tossing trees and even barges onto the rails that remained. Although repairs were made and some freight service resumed within months, Amtrak made no moves to restore its passenger line. Sunset Limited, it announced, would henceforth travel no farther east than New Orleans.
At the time, there wasn’t much pushback. Homes had been flattened; entire communities were scattered. Arguing in favor of passenger trains filled with tourists seemed ridiculous. But by 2010, with the Gulf Coast slowly rebuilding and a new normal seemingly within reach, a growing chorus of voices began to call for the train’s return.
Illustration by Rui Ricardo
They were met with resistance. Freight railroad companies owned the tracks, and they weren’t willing to let Amtrak use them again. This began a lengthy showdown that Railway Age dubbed the “Second Battle of Mobile” (the first, of course, took place during the Civil War). In a 2021 legal filing, the freight companies argued that allowing the passenger line to return would “devastate” their operations. In response, Jim Mathews, president and CEO of the Rail Passengers Association, called such claims “prima facie absurd.” “It’s clear this is just another stalling tactic by the railroads,” he said in a statement.
But a year later, the two sides reached a settlement agreement, and in 2023, the passenger line was awarded a $178 million federal grant. The train was destined to ride again. “We had three states, six cities, and the federal government involved,” says David Clark, president and CEO of Visit Mobile and a member of the Southern Rail Commission. “The fact we were able to bring the train back is kind of miraculous.”
• • •
My husband and I paid $66 each for our round-trip coach seats on the Mardi Gras Service. Our plan was to stay in New Orleans overnight, then return to Mobile the next day on the late-afternoon train (two trains depart daily in each direction). Riding the train was much more comfortable than I’d expected. For starters, there were no middle seats: All rows were two-by-two. And the seats themselves were roomier than I’d imagined, reclining 45 degrees and offering footrests. There were folding trays, power outlets, and reading lights. The Wi-Fi was free. I could have easily done some work, had I been so inclined (I was not).
Our first stop was Pascagoula, Mississippi, with a charming 1904 train depot that’s undergoing renovations to include a brewery. Though the town is best known for shipbuilding (it’s a key supplier to the Navy), it’s also home to a newly revitalized downtown a block from the depot. A handful of people in our car disembarked in the few minutes we spent idling, but the majority stayed put.
Stop two was Biloxi, Mississippi, where eight casinos towered in the distance. Gaming draws a fair number of Mardi Gras Service passengers, says Judy Young, CEO of Coastal Mississippi Tourism. Sure enough, a group stood up to leave.
With the train stopped for a few minutes, I decided it was time for breakfast. A single cafe cart in the rear served coffee, breakfast sandwiches, and blueberry muffins. For lunch or dinner, options included New Orleans–themed items like muffulettas, Zapp’s Voodoo chips, and pralines. I paid for a muffin and a spicy Bloody Mary; it seemed to fit the setting.
Gulfport, Mississippi, was our next stop, with a white-sand beach that beckoned from a block away. March through October, the town offers ferry service to nearby Ship Island, a National Seashore with a fort built soon after the War of 1812. Gulfport is also home to the Mississippi Aquarium, which means school children from nearby communities can now take Amtrak for field trips.
Our last Mississippi stop was Bay St. Louis, an artsy beach town dotted with coffee shops and galleries. Walt Leger, president and CEO of the New Orleans & Company tourism organization, says it’s a popular weekend getaway for New Orleans residents looking to escape the city. When our train pulled into town, half a dozen resident volunteers waved to greet us, and golf-cart taxis idled in the parking lot, ready to shuttle passengers to downtown restaurants and vacation rentals.
Illustration by Rui Ricardo
My husband and I remained with the thinned-out crowd inside the train. Soon, we were passing coastal wetlands where gray herons waded in the marshes. Across from us, I heard the little boy in glasses and a hat let out a gasp. “Dolphin!” he cried, looking out his window. I couldn’t help myself. I got out of my seat and crouched in the aisle, trying to get a better view. Sure enough, a school of dolphins was arcing along the water in the same direction we were traveling, as if racing us.
Half an hour later, we pulled into New Orleans. Water melted into asphalt and horizon morphed into building after building. The train slowed to a halt at the station, a mile from the Superdome. We’d arrived in one of our favorite cities, and now the fun was supposed to start. Maybe it was the reclining seats, all those water views, or the pre-noon cocktail, but I could have simply kept riding the train all day.
• • •
According to data released by the Southern Rail Commission, Amtrak’s Mardi Gras Service logged 20,000 bookings in just its first two months, with passengers departing from Mobile and New Orleans in almost equal numbers. Amtrak initially estimated it would have 71,000 riders in its first year; they have now more than doubled that estimate to 150,000 riders. Post-trip surveys showed that for a majority of riders, this was their first Amtrak trip. “Amtrak is more than pleased,” David Clark of Visit Mobile says.
Indeed, the company announced in September that due to increased demand, it would add an additional railcar to the train on days the New Orleans Saints played at home. “When you find ways to connect communities together, good things happen,” says Walt Leger of New Orleans & Co.
Still, questions remain. Federal funding is only guaranteed for three years, after which state and local governments will decide if the rewards of keeping the train outweigh the increased costs. Mobile’s newly elected mayor, Spiro Cheriogotis, has publicly stated he’s unsure whether the city should continue to support the train when federal funding ends.
Clark, for his part, doesn’t mince words: “It takes ridership and interest,” he says. “If people want to see it be successful, they can’t talk about it; they have to ride it.”
And if they continue to do so with the same enthusiasm they’ve shown these past few months, perhaps even more cities will connect to the line. Leger says he dreams of it stretching west from New Orleans to Baton Rouge and on to Houston, then expanding east of Mobile to Jacksonville, eventually routing north to Atlanta. “I think in some ways, the current train is a model for how to come together,” he says. “We really are better together.”
I had a similar thought as the sunset sky faded from orange to purple to black on my return ride to Mobile. I recognized a few faces on the train from the previous day. Some had gone to the Saints game, and they were commiserating over the team’s loss.
“Where are you headed now?” I heard one rider ask another.
“Pascagoula.”
“My aunt’s from there. Maybe that’s where I’ll take the train next time.”
I smiled from my seat. There would be a next time for us, too. Maybe we’d bring our kids and show them the Gulf Coast in a way I-10 never could. We’d explain that there was a time before they were born that this area was scattered in every direction. But it built its way back from the storm, track by track, fight by fight. And today, it is reconnected once more by a single, unifying line.
• • •
Laissez les bons temps rouler!
Fat Tuesday is February 17, and three stops on the Mardi Gras Service Line—New Orleans, Mobile, and Biloxi—celebrate in a big way. Grab your krewe and hop on the train for some serious revelry.
New Orleans, Louisiana
Home of the country’s largest and most famous Mardi Gras festivities, the Big Easy celebrates with more than 40 parades that include giant floats, elaborate costumes, and the traditional tossing of beads. (Be sure to look out for the Mardi Gras Indians parading in intricately beaded traditional regalia.) Don’t miss tasting the sugary King Cake (a ring-shaped cake with a plastic baby hidden inside) from Gambino’s Bakery.
The Old No. 77 Hotel & Chandlery in the French Quarter offers up to 20 percent off rooms for those arriving by train; its celebrated restaurant, Compere Lapin, combines Caribbean, Creole, and French fare. In town ’til the weekend? Indulge in the jazz brunch at Arnaud’s Jazz Bistro and wander upstairs to view the venerated restaurant’s very own Mardi Gras museum, complete with more than a dozen preserved ball gowns worn by former owner Germaine Wells, who reigned as queen over 22 Mardi Gras balls in the mid-20th century.
Courtesy Admiral Hotel
Mobile, Alabama
Mobile was the first city in the country to celebrate Carnival, commemorating the occasion with processions and religious services in 1703. It still makes a big deal of the occasion, hosting dozens of parades, but the ones here are smaller and more family-friendly than those in New Orleans. Plenty of beads are tossed from the floats, but so are MoonPies, Conecuh sausages, and toys.
Not only is the Admiral Hotel walking distance from the train station, but it’s also situated directly on the main downtown parade route. Its VIP Mardi Gras tickets include access to a private balcony viewing area with a premium bar and dedicated server. While you’re in town, check out the newly renovated Mobile Carnival Museum, which delves into the city’s eight mystic societies and how they impact local celebrations.
Courtesy Beau Rivage Resort & Casino
Biloxi, Mississippi
The Gulf Coast Carnival Association hosts the city’s signature Mardi Gras Parade on Fat Tuesday, complete with 17 floats, 50 torch (“flambeaux”) carriers, and a 12-piece band. Earlier in the week, the Krewe of Neptune Night Parade rolls through with more than a dozen marching bands sounding into the evening.
Centrally located Beau Rivage Resort & Casino offers proximity to the action, plus more than 10 restaurants and a massive gaming floor. From the Biloxi train station, walk across the street to the transit station and ride the “Casino Hopper” bus to the hotel.
This article appears in the Winter 2026 issue of Southbound.
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Allison Entrekin
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