Carnaval!

Ever since arriving in Spain, flyers for the Carnaval celebration in Cadiz have been plastered absolutely everywhere in Granada. Essentially the closest celebration to a Brazilian carnaval one can find on the mainland of Spain, Cadiz is well-known for its two-week long series of parades, performances, and party-filled streets. Naturally, my friends and I were obligated to make the four hour pilgrimage to this coastal city.

The grand journey began at 9 am on Saturday. Carnaval is all about having a crazy time before Lent begins, and over the years costumes have become customary; in the beginning people dressed up to disguise their identities while they were acting in less-than-civil ways, but today the costumes are just one more way to be purely outrageous. Dressed in our finest of costumes (I donned the outfit of a flamenco dancer or gypsy… it was up for interpretation), we boarded a bus and set off.

Even the children were dressed in their very finest. 

The true caranval festivities do not begin until nightfall, and since we arrived fairly early in the day we ventured to the beach. Cadiz, being on the coast of the Atlantic and therefore a vital port city, is one of the older establishments in Spain. Alongside the beach are huge stone and concrete walls, creating quite an imposing image over the ocean. Other caranval-goers were enjoying the beach as well, wandering about in their costumes. My roommate, being the fantastic person that she is, took it upon herself to truly experience the beach of Cadiz by stripping down to a tank and shorts, booking it across the sand, and diving into the very freezing water. It is safe to say that she was definitely the only person to go in the ocean that day. Props. I stuck to shell-collecting, which turned into sea glass-finding, to my great delight.

The coast of Cadiz

 Come nightfall, the narrow streets and sprawling plazas of Cadiz filled with very inebriated people of all nationalities. The costumes were everything imaginable and unimaginable, for sure. Lego men, wizards, decks of cards, and so many unidentifiable characters were among the choices in attire. The center of the party could be found in the plaza of Cadiz’s cathedral (ironic, no?). The grand steps leading up to the cathedral were covered in masses of singing and dancing people. Music could be heard, but only mainly in that area, as it was being played from your average-sized boom box, not huge speakers.

The hoards of party peoples by the cathedral.

We met lots of new acquaintances as we bee-bopped and danced around the crowd. One man, Ricardo, who was probably in his fifties or so, spoke to me for the longest time about the chauvinist ways of Spanish men today. He recounted a few Native American and Peruvian fables about love and respect, explaining that those are lost values. I also learned about his 27 year old girlfriend, children, and extensive travels. Though much of what he said was not exactly cohesive, it was certainly quite interesting and entertaining. Eventually, I explained that I needed to leave for dinner with my friends. Before I could leave, he insisted that he had a gift for me… after fumbling around in his coat pockets for a minute, he produced a small wooden elephant with carved, geometric designs. Ricardo thanked me for listening to him and told me to keep the little trinket, which he got while in Africa, for good luck. I have kept in on my person ever since.

My friends and I did in fact search for dinner next, which proved difficult as very few restaurants had their interiors open for diners (most just served snack-type foods and drinks out their windows… understandably so, as the loco carnavalers surely would have trashed the restaurants, given the chance). Finally, we found a café, of the extremely classy variety, and dined among the citizens of Cadiz who chose not to participate in caranval. Indeed, we felt out of place in our costumes, but we were hungry and pretty cold (the beach winds were getting the best of us for sure).  The prices were surprisingly not too bad, so I opted for quail with berry sauce and a cup of green tea to warm my belly. I thought it was the most contradictory thing on the menu to the whole caranval experience. After an hour of fine dining, good posture, shiny silverware, and staring patrons, we returned to the madness of the streets. More dancing and wandering ensued. We met Spaniards and fellow Americans, danced the Macarena, which the Spaniards LOVE, and crunched a great deal of broken glass. 

Oh so much trash.

We finished the night off with chocolate-filled churros, as we were frozen to the core and definitely needed something remotely warm. Our bus, though scheduled to depart at 3:30 am, left around 4:15 due to many stragglers who had difficulty finding the bus. Despite the delay, some people were left behind (luckily, everyone in my group managed to make it back). Other buses and groups were leaving at 6 or 7 am, which none of us could imagine, as we were totally wiped out by the time we left. Phew! Upon returning to Granada around 8 am, I made a beeline for the showers (I was smelling and looking oh so lovely at that point), and then hit the bed until 4 that afternoon. Caranaval certainly took it out of us, but it was such a great experience nonetheless.