The author poses in front of the Amtrak Mardi Gras Service during his journey along the Gulf Coast for The Telegraph UK. Credit: Adrian Bridge
Needless to say, there was a party atmosphere on board the Mardi Gras Express.

We’d just pulled out of the Mississippi Sound resort of Bay St Louis and there was a beautiful red glow in the sky. This glow extended to the faces inside the train – where in the café car one particularly lively group was attempting to construct the Empire State Building with empty beer cans.

“Aw, this is it, we are moving!” declared one of the party’s number as we picked up speed for the journey to the train’s final destination, New Orleans. “I can’t remember the last time I took a train, but I am loving it!”

Like many on board, my fun-loving fellow passengers had heard about the launch of a new service linking the legendary Louisiana city of New Orleans with Mobile in Alabama, and were keen to try it out.

In a nation that remains sceptical about the merits of travel by rail, this journey – which covers some 145 miles in just under four hours – is an easy way to test the waters, and to get a feel and flavour of a stretch of coastline synonymous with the colourful parades marking the pre-Lenten celebration of Mardi Gras.

Hence the name of the train, officially the Mardi Gras Service, but lovingly dubbed the Mardi Gras Express, which hugs the coast of the Gulf of America (formerly the Gulf of Mexico) and was launched to great fanfare in August.

Apart from linking some great spots in the southern reaches of the three states of Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama, the new train is a further strong sign of the way the region has bounced back from Hurricane Katrina, which ripped its highly vulnerable rail connections to shreds.

I was transfixed by the flatness of the terrain, the lightly swaying elegance of the reeds, the calmness of the lake gently lapping distant shores.

I’d taken the earlier of the train’s twice-daily services – the 7.35am from New Orleans – and though not at my sharpest (yes, jazz, beer and wonderful food had all been involved the night before), my antennae quickly tuned into the fact that this was something rather special.

I was transfixed by the flatness of the terrain, the lightly swaying elegance of the reeds, the calmness of the lake gently lapping distant shores – and so were my fellow passengers, who included a group of retirees on a day-trip to Mobile, a couple staying longer wanting to take in a few rounds of golf, and a Vietnam War veteran who said riding the train was high on his bucket list.

With its pretty pre-Civil War buildings, all porches and balconies; ballrooms and staircases, Mobile is a city which, in its historic core, powerfully conjures up America’s Deep South.

The train does not travel particularly fast and announces its arrival as every place it passes through with a series of hoots.

There were smiles and waves as we came to rest at stops along the way – Bay St Louis, Gulfport, Biloxi and Pascagoula – the train serving as a welcome reminder that after several difficult years, things were getting back on track.

With its pretty pre-Civil War buildings, all porches and balconies; ballrooms and staircases, Mobile is a city which, in its historic core, powerfully conjures up America’s Deep South.

Nowhere is this more in evidence than at the Battle House Hotel, a venerable building with connections to a score of US presidents.

It was also the highlight of a foodie-themed walking tour of the area around Mobile’s Dauphin Street – one which involved tucking into specialties such as chargrilled oysters, wickedly creamy beignets and crispy fried green tomatoes served with scone-like “biscuits”.

There was a spice too, of course – in ochre-infused gumbo, a fish stew, and paella-like jambalaya – emblematic of the region’s cuisine – often characterised as Creole or Cajun – which draws heavily on French, Spanish and African/Caribbean influences.

Mobile prides itself on having been the site of the first proper Mardi Gras parade in 1703, when it was the capital of Louisiana.

French explorers landed here in 1682, immediately declaring it a part of a France – then ruled by Louis XIV, hence Louisiana – and despite the many years which have passed since their departure, the French connection remains especially pronounced. A large portrait of the Sun King takes pride of place in the lobby of the Admiral, a stylishly idiosyncratic hotel in Mobile, continuing the theme with further portraits of Marie Antoinette and those early French adventurers.

Mobile prides itself on having been the site of the first proper Mardi Gras parade in 1703, when it was the capital of Louisiana.

It remains to this day a substantial city with a working port and shipbuilding industry, which you can get a good sense of at the National Maritime Museum which takes a deep dive into the history and development of the Gulf Coast and the seafood riches of the Mississippi Sound region.

From the viewing platform of the museum, I spied the gleaming Mardi Gras Express, ready and waiting to spring back into action later that afternoon for its return run to New Orleans, with a first stop at Biloxi, my next port of call.

I had time beforehand to visit Africatown Heritage House, home to an exhibition about the survivors and descendants of slaves transported on the Clotilda, which in 1860 became the last known ship containing human cargo to land in the United States. Much of Mobile’s wealth was built on cotton and slavery, and this exhibition serves as a sobering reminder of that fact.

You can read about the rest of Adrian's Gulf Coast experience aboard Amtrak Mardi Gras Service in the rest of the article here.