Carnival in Cadiz "Now that's a Fiesta"

How was I to know that my neighbor, an Egyptian pharaoh, passing a bottle of Spain’s finest Cruzcampo to 

 two prison escapees would be the most normal thing I see all night. Our hour-long bus ride full of singing, photos and anticipation commenced a true Spanish fiesta…and in my case, a once in a lifetime fiesta.

As far as carnivals are concerned, Cadiz’s places second to the world famous fiesta in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Cadiz in March is a destination for Spaniards and foreigners alike, a fact made clear from my encounter with not only one but two native New Yorkers.

Festive Carnival Lights

Carnival is celebrated around the world right before Lent. According to the Roman Catholic tradition, it sets the stage for one last chance to “let loose” before the 40 strict days of Lent.

Cadiz takes full advantage of  “letting loose.” During the day Cadiz host’s parades and singing groups called, “chirigotas,” who are known for their witty songs about politics and other modern topics while the “comparsas” singers represent the more serious side of carnival.

Carnival is known for its extravagant “disfrazes” or costumes. The elaborate, well thought out costumes definitely pay tribute to a country that knows how to have a good time. Gorgeous señoritas in full flamenco dresses walk next to groups of men decked out in cheerleader outfits, a visual of Spain’s modern, diverse culture and the rich history that has made Spain the intriguing place it is today.

I was only privileged to encounter Cadiz after sunset when the city transformed into a never-ending party of costumes, food and booze.

Just a Tasting of Costumes

The continuous parade of outrageous attire and vibrant street light decoration made Cadiz a city of excitement and constant surprises. Suffice to say, the excessive amount of alcohol probably added to the entertainment.

The first four hours of my Carnival experience enclosed me in a glass jar of colorful marbles. Cadiz was that glass container and I was a white marble hidden in the center, almost impossible to find.

Cruzcampo

For a good part of the night I was pressed against a complete stranger, sequins and feathers would find their way from one person to the next, while obstacle courses of beer bottles and discarded cardboard costume parts proved treacherous for an unfortunate few.

It was nearly impossible to move five inches, forget going to the bathroom. I was forced to expertly watch my liquid intake for the night and only made the frustrating trudge to the toilet twice. (Quite a feet for the girl who makes the family stop once or twice for the hour car ride to grandma’s house.) The “bathrooms” at Carnival were 6 porter potties…6, for everyone. Needless to say, a particular alleyway became the boy’s (and a few adventurous girl’s) bathroom. “Urine” way, as it came to be called, added puddles to the already existing obstacle course, no longer just the 400 meter hurdles but the dreaded steeple chase.

By 2am my allergy to alcohol left me with a tummy full of sprite and gummy candies while I stood in a sea of empty bottles and “very happy” costumed Carnival goers. My gummy-state privileged me to hysterical memories but I think I’ll save those stories for the grandkids.

Black and White Swan

By 4 in the morning, all my skirt feathers had fallen (I was the white swan from Natalie Portman’s ballerina movie, “Black Swan,” although I think some people called me s a flamenco), I had depleted my gummy stash and my two trips through "Urine Way" had left my boots less than dry. The mixture of holding up a drunken amiga, hunger and pure fatigue had caught up with me. The hand on my watch decided to tick at snail’s pace as I disappointingly realized the length of the next few hours. 

Just when my legs where about to give out and sit me on a street full of alcohol, garbage and who knows what else, a tiny light in the distance saved me – A CHURRO STAND. Yellow, florescent bulbs blinked those magical words and invited me to make the long hike (probably 50 feet) to the promised land:

 A 3-euro bag of fried goodness.

With churros in hand, a snoring ballerina on one shoulder and an exhausted chicken on the other, I was content. Glad to have the experience but ready to go.

Our exhausted trio spent the next two hours half asleep and giggling on a roadside curb waiting for the 7:30 bus, a perfect spot to watch the sunrise paint the city of Cadiz in the colors and bliss of its nighttime costumed visitors.