There are two Carnavals. One is the blocos, or block parties, where people get together on street corners around the city to party (anything from a few hundred, to a hundred thousand) - this is the Carnaval we DIDN’T see, thinking that this was more of a young person’s game… And the other is the fierce annual competition between Rio’s samba schools, which has been running for decades, and is now hosted in the purpose-built Sambódromo. There are heats throughout the Carnaval period which culminate in the Champions’ Parade, where the top 6 schools get to show why they won. And that was where we were going this evening!
It was a bit of a palaver sorting out tickets: there are all sorts of options, from hideously expensive private boxes at ground level (frisas), to party rooms with free food and drink, and extra bands (camarotes), to seats in the tiered concrete grandstands (arquibandas). After much ummimg and ahing we bought tickets for Sector 9, the grandstand where you get an actual numbered seat (rather than first come first served seating). This is known as the tourist grandstand because that’s the boring kind of thing tourists worry about, and is not known for its full-on party atmosphere, but that was fine by us…
The next question was getting there as it’s quite far from the main tourist areas. The hotel lays on a shuttle, but this was going to be nearly £200 for the three of us, which just seemed unnecessary, when the easy alternative was the metro (3 return tickets: £6).
It was easy. After we’d had fun donning our nod to Carnaval accessories, it was one block’s walk to the metro, then 14 stops on one direct line straight there, with the metro getting fuller every stop. And it was fun: lots of people, mostly tourists, all dressed up, with glitter, sequins and feathers. Unfortunately, however, this led us astray… There are two sides to the 700 metre long Sambódromo (like a street lined with concrete grandstands for maximum parade-viewing efficiency, designed by architect Oscar Niemeyer): odd numbers, and even numbers. As sector 9, we were odd, so had to get off at a different stop to the even numbers. When we got to what I thought was our stop, I couldn’t see a sign - and then a lady said “not this one”. So we stayed on - and ended up getting off at the next (wrong, even-numbered) stop. It wasn’t a disaster though - it just meant a longer walk around the stadium.
Again, this was part of the experience. It was incredibly hectic: it was dark (nearly 9pm); hot (27 degrees, and humid); and rammed with people going in all directions: from tourists like us, to locals out to party, to Samba school performers carrying their huge unwieldy costumes in plastic bags, with feathers sticking out of the top. There were also lots of stall holders trying to sell food, drink, or carnival accessories, from one person and their cool box, to a proper stall with a gazebo, grill, lights, and card payment facilities. It was loud, brightly lit between the dark patches, and with a huge amount of humanity moving about - plus a lot of security and information staff, who thankfully, kept pointing us in the right direction.
Most excitingly, the huge floats of the various samba schools were all parked up on the closed roads around the Sambadrome (which is why we couldn’t just Uber), and we began to get an idea of what we were really in for. In my mind Carnaval is parades of people dancing in spectacular costumes, some of them women in sparkly bikinis and lots of feathers and not much else. But these were ginormous structures, longer than lorries, taller than houses, that were sculpted in enormous detail to create people, or animals, or just layers of STUFF (jungle, waves, fire), scattered through with platforms which would presumably hold people later. They were enormous, technicolour, beautiful works of art - right now, weirdly still and passive, but to come to life with a bang shortly…
After about 30 minutes of dodging the more aggressive stall holders, and navigating our way through the crowds, the fireworks started inside the Sambadrome - things were kicking off! But we were nearly there… After some final security at the entrance (so many helpful people), we were in! And we found our way to our grandstand entrance. It was packed - clearly everybody else had got off at the right metro stop, or paid the £200 - but hurrah for our numbered seats, there they were, waiting for us! And nothing had actually started yet, it was just a pre-show warm-up that included a few dancers and a confetti cannon avalanche.
(This seemed ultimately more trouble than it was worth - it took a second to go off, and about half an hour to clear up. It was quite entertaining though: a squad of people in green flailed ineffectually at it for a while, until the professionals in orange with BIG brooms turned up - they walked in like they owned the place, then took a V formation, like geese, and marched, sweeping, down the centre of the road, and back again - much better. They were then followed by 5 orange motorised street sweepers, only some of which seemed under control - a few kept zipping ahead of the line and careening off course, before being brought back into line. Very entertaining.)
The other thing to watch, while we waited for the show proper to start, was the crowd. As we expected, those around us were nearly all older/ tourist types. There was a huge block of mostly middle-aged people in matching Rio Carnaval 2025 T-shirts to our right - I never managed to work out their nationality. In front of us were three men in their thirties that smoked constantly (which was actually unpleasant, even in the open air - it bothered my lingering cough. Funny how sensitive we (I?) get - in the old days we were used to smoke being everywhere.) But, rather wonderfully, immediately behind us were a Brazilian matriarchal family: gran, mum, and two daughters, slightly older and younger than Jemima, who knew ALL the songs being played, and sang along with gusto. It was great - definitely added to the experience. (The songs were repeated frequently, so by the end Jemima knew them too.) We were definitely the quieter area though - the grandstands opposite were full of waving flags; the camarotes around us had people hanging off the edge of the balcony so they could see, and the frisas down below were heaving. There were 90,000+ people all having a very good time.
Eventually, at 10.20pm down the long, thin stadium, with another crescendo of fireworks, we could see the first samba school parade starting to our right. It took a little while to get to us, but when it did, it was (to use Kevin’s word), spectacular.
At the very front of the parade was the warm-up: a group of sparkly dancers with huge feathered wings, like giant samba-ing butterflies - like I imagined Carnaval to be. But then it changed…
Next was a group of male dancers performing an intricate choreographed routine that involved making all sorts of different shapes as a group - not a traditional samba, but more like a dance performance. They were followed by a huge flat-topped float, travelling mysteriously under its own steam, with a giant African mask-like face on the front. As they got closer they all moved onto the float, still dancing, and then the lighting in the whole place changed: the floodlights went out, and instead the float lit up in purple, showcasing the dancers on top in orange, to a roar from the crowd. Then raised areas appeared on the float, with graffiti on them: it seemed to be drawing a connection between modern day Rio and the African ancestors of lots of the people. And all the while, the music kept playing: a song with a chorus about the favelas.
But this was just the start. The next float was even taller - three or four stories high, lurid pink, with a screen showing waves at the front and giant pink fish moving on stalks as if they were jumping through the waves. It had samba dancers in enormous glittery costumes on platforms scattered through it (I was pleased to see they had handrails to hold onto - it was a long way down…). And so it continued - more floats, more groups of dancers, stretching away down the Sambadrome - it was way more impressive than I’d expected.
And it went on for longer - the parade for just this samba school went on for about an hour and a half. In between each of the floats were clumps of dancers in different costumes, all performing choreographed moves within their group. I was surprised by just how many people were one samba school. This is not like a dance school we can imagine - there must have been thousands overall. The scale of it was breath-taking.
(Understandably, the bigger the costume, the less the dancing: people dressed as 10 foot high leaves, or with 6 foot wide, stiff skirts, tended to do more spinning. People in lighter costumes, or the feathered women (who reappeared mid-parade), did more actual samba, with their feet moving so fast they were a blur. The ones in the heavier costumes must have been SO HOT.)
And it wasn’t just dancing: there was a brilliant section when a huge drumming band appeared, 10 abreast, maybe 50 rows, with drums of all different sizes (and of course, spectacular costumes to go with them).
That was just one samba school. And they came sixth place - imagine what first place would look like?!
Unfortunately we wouldn’t know. This event goes on until 5 or 6 in the morning - as a family we are both too old, and too young, to be doing that. So, as it approached midnight, and Jemima was getting tired, we decided to call it a night. (As we left, the Brazilian mother behind us asked me in a tone of shock, “you’re leaving?!”. I said yes, sadly - but thank you for the singing, it was wonderful!)
But the night’s adventures weren’t over yet. We navigated our way successfully out of the Sambadrome, but then our mission was to find the RIGHT metro station. I asked an information man, and he gave us directions, which weirdly conflicted with Google maps. But we decided to trust him, and went that way. It was still manic around the Sambadrome - ticket touts, pop up stalls, partygoers, and samba school performers everywhere, partially dressed, or having a snooze on a grass verge, waiting for their moment. At many points we were single file, weaving through the crowds (Jemima did very well). But as we got nearer to the clock tower we’d been directed to, the crowds got a little thinner. The streets got a little darker - and everything got a bit dodgier. And we realised there’d been a misunderstanding - rather than the metro stop “estació central”, we’d been directed to the actual Central (train) Station - which was firmly closed, behind high gates.
We took stock. This was not the ideal street corner to be hanging about on. But thankfully, Uber came to our rescue - a smiling man appeared within 1 minute, who thought our attempts at Portuguese were hilarious, and whisked us away, back to the hotel. But not before Jemima had asserted herself - I was a few feet away seeing if I could get a local taxi when a tall young man wandered over to her and Kevin, and said something. “Eu não falo Português” she said to him firmly (“I don’t speak Portuguese”) - and he walked off. Well done Jemima!
So an interesting end to an incredible night. Another excellent life experience - and for me, something on my bucket list ticked. Spectacular.
Getting ready!:
Metro fun:
Action outside the Sambadrome:
Opening act:
The professionals sweeping up:
And we’re off!:
The first float:
Backstage:
