198. From Rio to London

24th August 2014, Notting Hill Carnival, Notting Hill, London

Oh there are so many reasons why Notting Hill Carnival is clearly not for me.

I don't like crowds. Or dancing. Or crowds. Or Red Stripe. Or crowds. Yes, crowds is probably the biggest reason I am not feeling any excitement towards Carnival.

Nevertheless it is one of those things you have to have done as a Londoner, right? And seven years on, it seemed like I couldn't postpone it much longer.

Following an extensive gym session and a quick drink at Hell's Bells house, we were off to Notting Hill to get this whole Carnival thing out of the way. That however turned out to be easier said than done.

After getting on the bus in Willesden Green with about a 1000 other people we spent exactly three minutes on said bus to then be dumped before we had even reached Kensal Rise. So with our fellow 1000 passengers and another gazillion Carnival goers we started our trek to where the party was allegedly at. And with that a 40 minute walk that turned into a 2 hour one.

Finally there and finally having found Crazy Canadian and Co I actually started to enjoy myself. Between the awesome vibe, beautiful people and great music I almost managed to block out the groping and the fact that the only alcohol available was out of a white can with a red stripe on it. And the groping. Did not enjoy the groping much. News flash - Swedes are evidently less liberated than Caribbeans! I however did find it surprisingly fun to dance along to the floats whilst pretending that my shoes weren't getting ruined and hoping that the smell of marijuana would not stick to my clothes.

Then we decided to go into an alley way. With a DJ in it. DJ or no DJ - alley ways are generally a bad idea. This time was no exception. However, instead of being robbed or assaulted like in the predictable American soap that is not our lives - we landed ourselves in a stampede. I am not the least claustrophobic and was never the less in panic being in the midst of that makeshift dance floor in the alley and not being able to get out. The more the DJ shouted at people to stop pushing, the more they seemed to push and the less space there seemed to be to move or even breath.

Once we finally made it out of there, one girl had gone missing and that didn't exactly lessen the panic feel along with not getting through to her phone or seeing her anywhere in the crowd. Yes, we may have acted like drama queens and perhaps there wasn't an actual need for me to climb up a lamp post to try and spot her. But oh well, fifteen minutes on she appears, wondering what all the fuss is about.

After all this drama I can definitely establish that Carnival was not my cup of tea.

I really don't like crowds. Or Red Stripe.

Crowds.

Red Stripe.