So, you’re looking for the best parades around the world, huh? People think it’s all just floats and music. Lemme tell you, getting to see the “best” ones, well, that was quite the ride for me. Not always a fun one, either, but you sure learn a thing or two when you’re practically thrown into them.
For a good few years, I was bouncing around the globe for what I can only describe as a “content creation” gig. Sounds fancy, right? It wasn’t. Think less glamour, more grime. My job was basically to be wherever something “big” was happening, usually on a shoestring budget that would make a backpacker weep. And what’s “big” and “visual”? Parades, festivals, celebrations. My boss loved that stuff because it was cheap to film from the sidelines.
My Accidental Parade Tour
I didn’t set out to become some kind of parade expert. Honestly, I used to hate crowds. But when your paycheck depends on it, you learn to navigate. My first real taste was probably Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Got sent there with barely enough cash for coffee, let alone a decent meal. The parade itself? Wild, loud, and I saw most of it peeking between people’s shoulders while trying to make my one cheap camera work. Learned a lot about creative angles that day, mostly to avoid filming the back of someone’s head.
Then there was that time I ended up in Valencia for Las Fallas. Nobody told me about the constant fireworks. Constant! For days! The main parade with the ninots was incredible, giant satirical figures, truly works of art. And then they burn them all. Talk about a send-off. My ears were ringing for a week, but the sight of those massive structures going up in flames? Unforgettable.
I remember being rerouted through Trinidad and Tobago once, pure dumb luck, right during their Carnival. The energy there is something else. It’s not just watching; it’s feeling the music in your bones. I didn’t even have a proper assignment, just stuck. But I saw enough to know it’s a serious contender. My luggage got lost, but hey, I saw some amazing costumes.
- Lost cameras to dust and water.
- Slept in some questionable places to be “on location.”
- Lived on street food that was both amazing and terrifying.
- Became an unwilling expert in crowd dynamics.
And Rio de Janeiro? Yeah, I did that too. Not by choice, initially. Another classic “your flight is cancelled, next one in three days” situations. And guess what was happening? Carnival. The Sambadrome parade is on another level. The scale of it, the samba schools, the sheer exuberance. I blagged my way into a cheap spot with a terrible view, but the sound and the distant glitter were enough. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried to explain that expense report.
Even smaller, or different, celebrations stick with me. Like Holi in India. Not always a “parade” in the Western sense, more like a city-wide explosion of color and joy. I was supposed to be filming something serene, but got caught in the middle of it. My white shirt never recovered. My footage was mostly me laughing and covered in dye. Totally useless for the original project, but what a memory.
That whole chaotic job eventually imploded, company went bust, as these things often do. Left me with a pile of stories, a worn-out passport, and this weird, encyclopedic knowledge of international celebrations and how to survive them on pennies. It’s not something I boast about at dinner parties, you know? “Oh, you want to know about the best parade? Let me tell you about the time I almost got pickpocketed while trying to film a dragon dance during Chinese New Year in a city I can’t even pronounce properly anymore.”
So yeah, I’ve seen a few. The “best” ones? They’re usually the ones you stumble into by accident, the ones that test you a bit. Those are the experiences that stick. Not always comfortable, but definitely memorable. And you get a pretty good idea of what makes a truly great parade, even if you’re watching it with an empty stomach or ringing ears.
