Our waitress, noticing a couple in elaborate Venetian-style dresses, told us, “This is no carnival,” as she served our drinks. We had given up on finding the carnival and were now just looking to enjoy some Sunday afternoon Aperol. After a Friday filled with impressive dance performances but no parade, and a disappointing Sunday with no parade in sight, we decided to stop searching and let the carnival find us.
Our waitress, who was from Brazil, knew a thing or two about carnivals. While we were thrilled by the Friday dance performances, we were let down that there wasn’t any street dancing as advertised. We only saw colorful paper-mâché figures and a few loud music wagons, like a great show waiting to start.
The carnival was meant to be the grand finale of the week, which also included St. Paul’s Shipwreck Day, so we had high hopes. But after a few more hours of fruitless searching for organized festivities, we settled for some Aperol. That’s when we realized the carnival had begun—there were no sudden dances, but we noticed that this event was a celebration for everyone, locals and tourists alike.
Tourists like us were walking around looking for the carnival, while kids paraded in costumes fit for a Venetian ball. Families were out to have fun, stylish Italian mothers in tight jeans and high-heeled boots strolled with baby carriages, and the elderly watched the excitement with both skepticism and fascination.
We chatted with Chinni, a Valletta local who told us about his experience making parade floats. He explained how originality, the use of colors, and moving parts (beyond just wheels) earn points. The float with the most points is crowned “King Carnival” and leads the next year’s parade. Our conversation with Chinni was delightful, and we ended up with front-row seats to the parade, enjoying the big, colorful floats and their dancers.
Sometimes, you just have to stop chasing after things, and they’ll come to you.
suansuan