August Bank Holiday in West London and it’s Carnival time. Carnival is an excuse for one huge party (the largest in Europe) and an exuberant celebration of West Indian culture and history. All this descends on our doorstep once a year, and while some residents opt for a peaceful weekend away, we don our dancing shoes and get down and dirty with the best of them.
The streets around Ladbroke Grove come alive with throngs of people out to sample a plate of goat curry or a leg of jerk chicken. A picturesque haze of cooking smoke hangs in the air above and Jamaican beer is consumed by the gallon below. Girls are dressed in their carnival best, lots of bright colour and bare flesh. Dancing breaks out around a sound system, and within minutes, a crowd of fifty are waving their hands in the air. These are the sounds of funk, Latin soul, salsa, soca, reggae, hip-hop, house and ska - take your pick. In some areas the systems are close enough together to have to compete for air space. It becomes difficult to move freely through the great mass of bodies.
The parade follows a circular route, through grand Georgian streets with their whitewashed facades down to the high-rise blocks and monstrous concrete flyover. Asian shopkeepers pass goods out through barricaded doorways, a cowgirl hands out little pots of coloured vodka jelly. A float creeps past laden with rows of steel drums vigorously beaten by young musicians; each year there is a fierce competition to win the title of best band on Saturday night. A troupe of dancing girls sway past in pink pigeon feathers, each hoping they might be pronounced carnival queen. You can stand and stare all day or you can jump in and join the procession too.
If you are in London during Carnival, make sure you come on down. Wear comfortable shoes, bring some friends, and leave your valuables (and your inhibitions) at home. See you next year.