I had never even heard of the Notting Hill Carnival. But in the build-up to last weekend’s Caribbean fete I heard of how it’s as big as Rio and has even more dancing and craziness. Time Out claimed it had a higher grinding quotient than any other street festival in the world. In London. With British people. I didn’t think it could be true.
Two million people and some beans & rice and cheap beer later, I’m a believer. What insanity. It was like Bourbon Street times forty. And set right in an ethnic and socio-economic crossroads, where the spoiled jetsetters of Notting Hill merge with the displaced but vibrant communities of Ladbroke Grove. Totally diverse, totally easy, totally drunken. Cops and pot smoke everywhere.
Once again, go London.
Watch the movie I made of it: