United States Destinations

Lake Charles offers kinder, gentler Mardi Gras

By Toni Dabbs

Photo by Toni Dabbs

"It’s all about the beads," reminded my friend Sarah, as we left the hotel check-in desk with our first strands of the shiny souvenirs.

When we were in our 20s, Sarah and I, along with some other friends, had standing reservations for Mardi Gras in New Orleans. The same group went every year for the parties and parades, until individuals started dropping out as their priorities changed.

By the time we were 30, we no longer made the annual trek, but we had accumulated literally a trunk full of beads, doubloons, plastic cups and other Mardi Gras giveaways. I can’t remember what we did with it all.

Reminiscing about those "good old days" is what inspired Sarah and me, decades later, to want to celebrate Mardi Gras again.

We felt we were well past the wild times and crowded conditions of New Orleans; we wanted a "kinder, gentler" Mardi Gras that was nonetheless fun and festive. A little research brought us to Lake Charles, a medium sized city in Calcasieu Parish in Southwest Louisiana, about 50 kilometres inland from the Gulf of Mexico. It turned out to be the right choice.

The approximately 50 Mardi Gras Krewes of Lake Charles are serious enough that they work year-round planning and constructing their parade floats and royal court costumes. Although they officially launch the season on Twelfth Night (January 6), the main events begin the weekend before Fat Tuesday.

We arrived mid-afternoon on Friday, so we had time to unpack, freshen up and relax over a casual dinner before finding a place along the route of the Merchants’ Parade, the first of several that would roll over the next few days.

We had no intention of trying to view them all; we wanted to see and do other things in the area as well. But that first parade helped put us in the Mardi Gras mood and provided a few more strands of beads to mark us as celebrants.

Sarah and I both love heritage buildings, so Saturday morning we armed ourselves with a detailed guidebook co-published by the Calcasieu Preservation Society and the Southwest Louisiana Convention and Visitors Bureau, hopped into our rental car, and headed to the Charpentier District. The name, French for "carpenter," refers to the carpenter/architects who often both designed and handcrafted their buildings, embellishing the structures with turrets, towers, carved gables, decorative shingles and "gingerbread" fretwork to advertise their skills.

We were overwhelmed. The district, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, spans more than 40 blocks. It includes hundreds of mansions, modest homes, churches, businesses and public buildings, most constructed between the 1880s and the 1920s, when lumber mills formed a major industry in the area and wood was plentiful.

We managed to pry ourselves away while there was still time to have lunch at the World Famous Cajun Extravaganza Gumbo Cook-Off, one of the prime Mardi Gras food events in Lake Charles.

At the cook-off, for $5 each we got to sample all the entries we wanted. Gumbo basically is a savoury stew thickened with okra, file powder (made from sassafras leaves), or roux and served over rice. What distinguishes one version from another are ingredients such as chicken, catfish, wild game and andouille sausage.

Fortified for the afternoon, we had only a short wait before the Krewe of Omega Parade rolled and more glittering beads were tossed our way. Afterward, intrigued by its name, we made our way to the Krewe of Barkus Parade.

The parade turned out to be a pageant featuring dogs wearing costumes similar to those of the human Krewes’ royal courts, with plenty of sequins and ostrich plumes in Mardi Gras colours of purple, green and gold. I’m generally not a fan of overdressed canines, but I had to appreciate the creativity and work that produced some of their costumes.

Driving back to our hotel, we detoured along Shell Beach Drive, another heritage home district that we found listed in our guidebook. The road hugs the lakeshore, passing estates that date from the early part of the 20th century. The impressive houses and spacious gardens were built and continue to be maintained by some of the area’s more prestigious families.

In our New Orleans days, Sarah and I would have tried (successfully) to wangle invitations to one of the Krewe parties scheduled for Saturday night. We knew there were at least two Krewe presentations happening in Lake Charles that night. But we didn’t plan to wear ourselves out, so we opted for a quiet night at the hotel.

Well, I did anyway. Our rooms were at L’Auberge du Lac Casino Resort, a beautiful property outside downtown with a full spa, heated pool, golf course, shops and restaurants. Sarah decided to check out the gaming floor, and that was the last I saw of her until Sunday brunch.

Needless to say, we got a late start on Sunday, but there were only two parades we wanted to see that day: the afternoon Children’s Parade and the evening Lighted Boat Parade.

In between the two, we wandered around the parade assembly area and chatted with members of several Krewes. One group took us onto their float to show us the rows and rows of hooks covering the inside of the waist-high panels surrounding the float bed. Each hook held bunches of glittering beads ready to be thrown in the next day’s parade.

We got to our seats along the seawall just as the Lighted Boat Parade began. At first I was alarmed at how close the boats came to the seawall, but then I realized their passengers were tossing beads. However, I again became worried when I saw how close Sarah was getting to the water’s edge to catch as many of the flying strands as possible. She managed to stay dry and was wearing a thick collar of colourful beads by the time we went to dinner.

We both pared our beads down to a few select strands before we left the hotel Monday morning, which turned out to be a wise move. Our first stop was the Mardi Gras Museum of Imperial Calcasieu, where we were welcomed by members of the Twelfth Night Revelers, who immediately draped more beads around our necks.

Dressed in glorified court jester style costumes, Twelfth Night Revelers greet guests at many Mardi Gras events, strutting and dancing with their small decorated umbrellas in the style known as Second Line.

Having passed through the Revelers’ receiving line, we discovered that the museum contains an amazing array of Mardi Gras artifacts and costumes. Its six rooms and the hallway connecting them are packed with more than 250 elaborate outfits worn by past Krewe royalty. Most are displayed on mannequins, allowing visitors to view them three-dimensionally, up close and from various angles. Other exhibits provide information about the history and traditions of Mardi Gras.

After lunch, we took a shopping break in the Cottage Shop District, where a few blocks of cozy former residences have been converted into boutiques and other businesses, each with its own personality. We spent a leisurely afternoon going from one little house to the next, browsing for gifts among the antiques, art, jewellery, clothing, handbags, books, glassware and specialty food items. But I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Sarah buying Mardi Gras beads. "My grandkids will like the crawfish and alligators hanging from them," she insisted.

That night was one of the big events of the season: the Royal Gala, when the courts of all the Krewes promenade in full costume around the Civic Center arena. Anyone can buy a $5 ticket to sit in the stands and watch the spectacle, and we considered it a "must see."

We arrived early and ran into people from the Krewe des Lunatiques, whom we met before the Lighted Boat Parade. They invited us behind the scenes to watch them put finishing touches on their king’s and queen’s costumes, two giant heart-shaped backboards bordered with purple and pink ostrich plumes. Fragile materials such as feathers don’t transport well, so they must be added at the last minute.

Activity around the vast preparation area was fascinating. An entire corner was occupied by enormous costumes representing international icons, including the Eiffel Tower, the pyramids and a windmill. Along one wall, young denim clad princesses, their formal gowns still on hangers, fixed each other’s hair and make-up.

Those who had skipped dinner were catered to by a snack bar. And everywhere, captains directed their Krewes in completion of their costumes. Some workers were calmly in control, while others appeared to be slipping into panic mode.

We returned to the arena and settled into our seats just before the procession began. If any of the costumes lacked a peacock feather or a rhinestone, we couldn’t tell. Some of the costumes we had seen backstage looked quite different in motion. Concepts of different Krewes ranged from comical to glamorous to outlandish, but the combination made for a spectacular show.

When Fat Tuesday finally arrived, Sarah and I were as anxious for that day’s parades as we had been for the first one on Friday. In the hotel lobby, we encountered clusters of women wearing fanciful red hats. Members of Red Hat Society chapters from throughout Louisiana and nearby states, they were getting ready to ride in the Red Hat Parade. Sarah is a lapsed member of her local chapter, but that was good enough to earn us an invitation to join one group on its float. Which is how we found ourselves wearing "loaner" red hats and tossing beads rather than catching them. By the end of the parade, our throwing arms were tired, but we couldn’t decide whether it was more fun to toss beads or catch them.

The Krewe of Krewes Parade was that night, and we noticed the festive atmosphere building as its time approached. But while live bands and street vendors turned the six-and-a-half kilometre parade route into something of a party zone, it retained a family friendly quality that I didn’t recall from my New Orleans days.

Sarah and I claimed a small patch of sidewalk and braced ourselves for a barrage of beads as the first float moved past.

I was happy to catch any strand that otherwise might hit me in the face, but Sarah was jumping to snatch them from the air and climbing the barricade for a better position. She was decent enough to pass strands along people after she excitedly jumped in front of them to make a catch. She also shared with children who couldn’t reach the flung treasures. Even so, by the end of the parade she was nearly hidden beneath a collection of gaudy necklaces.

As we returned to the hotel, I asked her, "What are you going to do with all those?" "Take them home, of course," she said. Knowing she had even more in her room, I asked, "Can you get them all in your suitcase?" "If not, I’ll wear them on the plane," she said.