Carnival: The Grinch Edition

I think living in Britain has turned me into a whinging pom. Well, to be fair, I shouldn't blame the lovely United Kingdom for that; I've always had a tendency to be a bit of a whinger.

This weekend has been big - and by big I mean crowded, noisy, dirty and LOUD. The mild version looked like this:

{Photo taken by me}

Throw in random weather changes from sunshine to rain, oh, and about three tonnes of litter at the end of the day, and you have the Notting Hill Carnival. This was our second & final year of experiencing the parade from close quarters, since our apartment is directly on the parade route. And despite sounding like a grinch, I have to say it: I wasn't that impressed this year. In fact, I barely took any pictures at all - things were so similar to last year, the floats were almost identical and I was a lot more irritable with it all this time around.

To give you a run-down on what the carnival is like for a resident, here's how it goes. We're woken up on the Sunday of the long weekend by a steel band procession.. that starts at around 6am. {Last year it scared the life out of us, this year I was prepared with ear plugs.} Tourists and spectators start trickling in as the morning progresses, and the floats then start to make their way down the circuit - starting towards Notting Hill and ending near our street. The floats aren't really 'floats' like you would imagine. Instead, picture huge trucks rigged with massive speaker systems blaring out reggae and calypso music at around 135 decibals, with guys on microphones screaming out random things like 'LADIES, PUT YOUR HANDS UP' or 'NOTTING HILL CARNIVAL TWENTY-TEN REPRESENT!'

Once you've heard it the first three times, it gets old fast. Each truck is followed by some people in costume, some people in drag, and a whole stack of random tourists dancing along behind them, usually carrying some form of liquor with them. And the noise, oh my gosh, the noise. Our walls shake. Our windows vibrate. Our ears ring. Our cat hides under the bed. It is LOUD. And as we wave goodbye to that particular truck as it crawls along the street with its little bundle of dancing groupies behind it, we're greeted with the next one.

Rinse, cycle, repeat.

It goes on until the last float finishes up at around 9pm. It would be nice if that was it, and we all went on with our regular evenings, but no. Unfortunately, you're left with the hundreds and hundreds of inebriated tourists who throw their rubbish all over the ground, blow their whistles and their horns, and smash their bottles well into the wee hours. They don't show you the aftermath on the news images, because it's hideous. People are disgusting. You see, by the end of the evening when the parade winds down, you can't walk on the street without bypassing piles of garbage, discarded chicken bones and all sorts of other lovely human waste products.

And did I mention that it goes on for two days? Again with the rinse, cycle, repeat. Imagine this scene: tenfold.

{Photo credit here}

It's nearing 10:30am and we're at the tail end of it now. There are the usual throngs of people being morons in the street below, and I'll probably go to bed with ear plugs in once more - because what else happens after the carnival ends? We get street cleaners. Brilliant, you say, they'll clean the mess! Stop whinging, Aly! Well, the street cleaners do their thing at 3am. THREE AY EM. Not only do the residents have to put up with the noise for two entire days, we also have to put up with it for two entire nights. So while all the party animals and parade organisers go home tired to sleep in their own comfortable beds, we're all wide awake in ours, dreading the next August. Well, we're not, since we'll be gone by then.. but you get my drift. What with the public transport being all but closed down in our local area to accomodate for the carnival, we've once again spent our bank holiday long weekend holed up indoors for most of the time - there's just no way to escape the craziness.

Oh my, this did turn out to be a complaining blog post, didn't it? Blame it on my pounding headache and blinding irritation with holding a freaking dance party in a narrow residential street. I get it, it's a celebration of the local communities around the area and has a lot of history to it - but I just don't understand why they make it so long, so loud and so obnoxious. I also don't get how people think it's okay to act like complete morons, just because it's carnival: would they smash beer bottles, throw crap on the ground & urinate on homes nearby if it was in their own street? I doubt it. They do it here though, and nobody lifts a finger to monitor or fine people for doing so.

Ah well. We'll see what the damage is like tomorrow morning. And looking on the bright side, at least that's it for us - we've seen our share of carnivals, we've appreciated our lovely view for what it is worth, and we're done now.

And as of tomorrow, my whinging will stop - as I have lots of fun things to look forward to. My baby brother and his beautiful girlfriend will be here in two! weeks! and I am thrilled to bits. Our travel itinerary is done, and we now have to go through the process of printing out dozens of confirmations before we leave. I have a feeling it's going to be a busy but fabulous few weeks. What exciting things are coming up for you lately?