I've danced in the streets of Rio de Janeiro at 4 AM wearing a costume I bought from a man on a sidewalk for $12. I've thrown confetti from a balcony in Venice while opera singers performed in the square below. I've eaten king cake at a Mardi Gras parade in New Orleans and caught a string of beads that a man on a float threw directly at my face. Carnival, in all its forms, is the world's most universal celebration — nearly every culture has some version of it — and experiencing it in different countries has taught me more about what people value and how they express joy than any museum or historical site ever could.
Rio de Janeiro: The Greatest Show on Earth
Rio's Carnival is the largest carnival celebration in the world, drawing roughly two million people per day to the streets and generating an estimated $800 million in revenue for the city. The centerpiece is the Desfile das Escolas de Samba, the samba school parade in the Sambadrome, a purpose-built 700-meter-long parade ground with seating for 90,000 spectators. Twelve samba schools, each representing a different neighborhood in Rio, compete over two nights (Sunday and Monday), and each school has sixty to eighty minutes to tell a story through music, dance, costumes, and elaborate floats. The parade runs from roughly 8 PM to 6 AM each night.
I attended the Sunday parade in 2024, sitting in Sector 9 (the tourist section), where a ticket cost about $100 through an official vendor. I'd recommend booking through the League of Samba Schools (LIESA) website or through a reputable tour operator like Rio Carnival Experience, which offers packages that include tickets, costumes, and behind-the-scenes access to the samba school rehearsal spaces. Do not buy tickets from street vendors — counterfeit tickets are common, and you'll be turned away at the gate. The parade is an overwhelming sensory experience: the bass from the bateria (drum section) hits you in the chest from 200 meters away, the costumes are so elaborate that individual floats cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, and the dancers move with a precision and energy that no television broadcast can convey.
The street parties, called blocos, are where most cariocas (Rio residents) actually celebrate Carnival. There are more than 500 blocos during the five-day celebration, ranging from small neighborhood gatherings with a single drum band to massive events that draw a million people. The bloco at Copacabana Beach on the Saturday of Carnival weekend is the largest, with an estimated two million attendees. I went to the Bloco da Preta in the Centro neighborhood, a smaller bloco with a focus on Afro-Brazilian music and culture, and the energy was incredible — hundreds of people dancing behind a truck-mounted sound system, vendors selling caipirinhas and acaraje (black-eyed pea fritters), and not a tourist in sight. Blocos are free to attend.
Venice: Masks and Mystery
Venice's Carnevale is the most elegant carnival celebration in the world, a two-week festival of masked balls, costume parades, and theatrical performances set against the backdrop of the city's canals and palaces. The tradition dates back to the 12th century, when the Venetian Republic's aristocracy wore masks to conceal their identities during celebrations that blurred the usual social boundaries. Today, the carnival draws roughly three million visitors over its twelve-day run, and the narrow streets and bridges of Venice can become uncomfortably crowded during peak hours.
I visited on a Thursday in the second week of Carnival, arriving at the train station from Verona at 9 AM. The best costumes were concentrated in St. Mark's Square, where elaborately dressed Venetians posed for photographs against the Basilica and the Doge's Palace. The quality of the costumes is extraordinary — hand-sewn silk gowns, papier-mache masks decorated with gold leaf and feathers, and period-accurate outfits that must have taken months to create. Many of the costumed figures are professionals who attend Carnival every year, and they charge 5 to 10 euros for a photograph (ask before shooting). The atmosphere in the square is festive and theatrical, like stepping into an 18th-century painting.
The Masked Ball at the Palazzo Pisani Moretta, held on the final Saturday of Carnival, is the most exclusive event on the Carnival calendar. Tickets cost about 500 euros and include dinner, live music, and period entertainment in one of Venice's grandest private palaces. I didn't attend — the price was beyond my budget — but I went to the free Flight of the Angel event, where a costumed acrobat descends on a wire from the Campanile bell tower to St. Mark's Square, suspended 99 meters above the crowd. The event draws tens of thousands of spectators and is the emotional high point of the festival. Arrive by 10 AM for a decent viewing position — I arrived at 11 and could barely see the square.
New Orleans: Mardi Gras and the Neighborhood Parades
New Orleans' Mardi Gras is the most deeply rooted carnival tradition in the United States, with a history stretching back to the early 18th century. The celebration runs for roughly two weeks before Ash Wednesday, with daily parades organized by krewes (social organizations) that date back generations. The parades are free to attend, and the experience of standing on a sidewalk in the Garden District or the French Quarter while elaborately decorated floats pass by throwing beads, cups, and doubloons into the crowd is genuinely joyful in a way that few other events manage.
I attended parades on three consecutive nights during the 2025 Mardi Gras season, starting with the Krewe of Bacchus on the Sunday before Fat Tuesday. Bacchus is one of the 'super krewes' — the largest and most extravagant parades — with floats that are three stories tall, celebrity riders (the 2025 Bacchus was led by actor Anthony Mackie), and a crowd that lines St. Charles Avenue for miles. The parade lasted three hours and passed within arm's reach of where I stood. The throws — beads, stuffed animals, light-up toys, decorated cups — are genuinely fun to catch, and the competitive spirit of the crowd (people run under floats to catch the best throws, and kids sit on ladders for a better vantage point) adds to the energy.
The neighborhood parades, which are smaller and less touristy than the super krewes, are where I had the most fun. The Krewe of Muses parade, an all-female krewe that parades on the Thursday before Fat Tuesday, has a reputation for the most creative throws — decorated shoes, purses, and makeup compacts that people line up for hours to catch. I caught a glitter-encrusted high heel that I still have on my bookshelf. The Chewbacchus parade, a science-fiction-themed walking krewe that parades through the Marigny neighborhood, featured floats made from shopping carts and recycled materials, including a bar that served cocktails while rolling down the street. The Chewbacchus parade is free, informal, and feels like a block party that got completely out of hand in the best possible way.
Trinidad and Tobago: The Birthplace of Caribbean Carnival
Trinidad's Carnival, celebrated on the Monday and Tuesday before Ash Wednesday, is widely considered the birthplace of Caribbean carnival as it exists today, and it has directly influenced carnival traditions in London, Toronto, New York, and cities throughout the Caribbean. The celebration is centered on two events: J'Ouvert (pronounced 'joo-vay'), a pre-dawn street party on Carnival Monday, and the Parade of the Bands on Carnival Tuesday, where thousands of costumed revelers dance through the streets of Port of Spain behind music trucks playing soca and calypso.
J'Ouvert starts at 4 AM on Carnival Monday, and it is one of the wildest, most uninhibited events I've ever attended. Revelers cover themselves in mud, paint, oil, or chocolate and dance through the streets of Port of Spain to the sound of steelpan bands and soca music. I joined a J'Ouvert band called Tribe Ignite, which cost about $40 and included a T-shirt, a drink wristband, and access to the band's food and drink stations along the route. The atmosphere was primal and joyful — thousands of people covered in mud and paint, dancing in the dark to music so loud it vibrated in my ribs. By 8 AM, the sun was up and the streets of Port of Spain looked like a battlefield of color.
Playing mas (short for 'playing masquerade') on Carnival Tuesday is the main event. I registered with a band called Yuma, which cost about $250 and included a full costume (feathered headpiece, beaded bra and belt, leg pieces), access to food and drink trucks along the route, and security. The band had about 3,000 members, and we danced through the streets of Port of Spain for eight hours, stopping at designated points for food, drinks, and rest. The costumes are designed by professional Carnival designers and are genuinely beautiful — the level of craftsmanship in the beadwork and featherwork is remarkable. Book your band registration by October or November, as the popular bands sell out months in advance.
Binche, Belgium: The Gilles of Carnival
The Carnival of Binche, a small town in Belgium's Walloon region about an hour south of Brussels, is one of Europe's most unusual and authentic carnival traditions. The celebration is centered on the Gilles, masked figures in elaborate costumes of wax, linen, and ostrich feathers who parade through the town on Shrove Tuesday, throwing blood oranges at the crowd and dancing to the sound of drums and brass bands. The tradition dates back to the 14th century and has been recognized by UNESCO as a Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity.
I arrived in Binche at 7 AM on Shrove Tuesday and found the town already buzzing. The Gilles, about 1,000 men and boys from Binche, begin their day with a ceremonial dressing at home, where they put on their costumes — which can weigh up to 30 kilograms — with the help of family members. The costume includes a white linen suit with red, yellow, and black heraldic patterns, a wax mask with a handlebar mustache and green spectacles, a white ruffled collar, and a towering hat decorated with ostrich plumes. The wax masks are handmade by a small number of local artisans, and each one costs several hundred euros. The Gilles are not allowed to be photographed before the official parade begins, and breaking this rule is considered a serious breach of etiquette.
The parade starts at midday and follows a route through the town center, stopping at the town hall for a ceremonial dance called the rondeau. The Gilles carry baskets of blood oranges, which they throw at the crowd — catching one is considered good luck, and I managed to snag two. The oranges are slightly bitter and not particularly good to eat, but I kept them as souvenirs. In the evening, the Gilles gather in the Grand Place for a final dance and fireworks display. The entire event has a small-town, community feel that is completely different from the scale and spectacle of Rio or Venice. There are no tourist packages or VIP sections — everyone stands in the street together, and the Gilles dance among the crowd rather than on a stage.
Oruro, Bolivia: Folk Dance on a High Plain
The Carnival of Oruro, celebrated in a mining city at 3,700 meters elevation on Bolivia's altiplano, is one of South America's largest and most culturally significant folk festivals. The centerpiece is the Parade of the Pilgrimage, a four-kilometer procession through the city that features more than 50,000 dancers and 10,000 musicians performing in elaborate costumes that represent Bolivia's diverse indigenous and mestizo traditions. The parade runs continuously for twenty hours, starting on the Saturday before Ash Wednesday and continuing through the night into Sunday morning.
I arrived in Oruro two days before the parade and spent time at the costume workshops where dancers and their families were putting the finishing touches on their outfits. The Diablada (Dance of the Devils), the most famous of the carnival's dance traditions, features dancers in elaborate devil costumes with masks, horns, and capes decorated with mirrors and sequins. A complete Diablada costume can cost $500 to $1,500 and weighs up to 15 kilograms. The Morenada (Dance of the Moors), the Caporales (Dance of the Foremen), and the Tinku (a ceremonial dance representing the meeting of two communities) are among the other major dance traditions represented in the parade.
Practical considerations for Oruro are significant. The altitude hits hard — I had a headache and shortness of breath for the first two days, even though I'd spent a week in La Paz acclimatizing. Drink coca tea (available at every hotel and restaurant in Oruro) and take it easy for the first 24 hours. The parade route is crowded and the weather can be cold — Oruro sits on a high plain where temperatures drop below freezing at night, even during the carnival. Bring warm layers, sunscreen (the UV intensity at 3,700 meters is severe), and earplugs if you plan to stand near the brass bands, which are loud enough to cause hearing damage at close range. Hotels in Oruro book out months in advance — I stayed at a family-run guesthouse called Hostal Don Jaime, which cost about $20 per night and was basic but clean and warm.
Planning Your Own Carnival Trip
Carnival dates vary by location and year, so the first step in planning a carnival trip is to confirm the exact dates for your chosen destination. Carnival falls on the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday, which means the date changes every year. In 2026, Carnival Tuesday falls on February 17th. Rio's celebration starts the Friday before and runs through Ash Wednesday. Venice's Carnival starts about two weeks before Ash Wednesday. New Orleans' Mardi Gras season begins in early January, with the final parades on Fat Tuesday. Book accommodation as early as possible — six to twelve months in advance for Rio and Venice, three to six months for New Orleans and Trinidad.
Budget varies enormously by destination. Rio and Venice are the most expensive, with a reasonable budget running $150 to $250 per day including accommodation, food, and event tickets. Trinidad and Oruro are significantly cheaper, with daily costs of $50 to $100. New Orleans falls in between, at about $100 to $150 per day. The single biggest cost in most carnival destinations is accommodation, which can double or triple during the celebration. Look for accommodations in neighborhoods slightly outside the main festival areas — in Rio, I stayed in Santa Teresa (a hillside neighborhood with great views and lower prices) and took the tram down to the city center each day.
Safety is a real concern at large carnival events, where crowds are dense, alcohol flows freely, and pickpockets operate. I carry my money and phone in a front zip pocket, never in a backpack, and I keep my camera strap wrapped around my wrist at all times. In Rio, I was warned about the favelas that border the carnival route and told to stay in well-lit, populated areas after dark. In New Orleans, the French Quarter is generally safe during Mardi Gras, but the side streets away from the main parade routes can be sketchy at night. Travel in groups when possible, keep your wits about you, and don't bring anything you can't afford to lose. Carnival is about letting go, but a little caution goes a long way.
