There are a lot of things that go wrong during travel. The weather doesn’t cooperate and you do one of the most beautiful drives in fog so thick you can’t see more than a few feet. A museum you desperately want to see is closed for refurbishment unexpectedly. A flight gets canceled, illness pops up, a road closes preventing a side trip to Andorra from Toulouse. These things suck, but are part of a travel life.

But for every one of those, there is also an unexpectedly wonderful experience that travel provides. A new friend is made, one that might last a lifetime. A museum not on one’s radar changes the way life is viewed in a place. A random change in plans leads to something wonderful in its place. Or a local holiday or cultural celebration makes a visit somewhere that much more special.

That last one happened to me here in Nice. Upon arriving, I was greeted – literally, as they are everywhere – with posters and billboards for Nice’s apparently famous Carnaval celebration, which would take place just about the entire duration of my stay. Now I pride myself on my research of a place before coming, but I didn’t know Nice had a Carnaval, let alone that it is one of the largest, most famous, and most historically important in the world.

Well, it is all of those things, and being here for it would change my experience, and just about entirely for the positive.

Apparently, Carnaval here in Nice goes back all the way to 1294, when Charles Anjou, Count of Provence, wrote that he had experienced “the joyous days of carnival.” So while this may or may not be the same thing, it is the earliest recorded instance of something at least similar, making it possible or even likely that this is THE original Carnaval in the world. (Don’t tell Rio.)

But in its current iteration, Nice Carnaval dates to 1873, shortly after the 1860 handover of Nice to France from the Italian kingdom of Piedmont-Sardinia in exchange for Napoleon III’s support during the Second Italian War of Independence. (Click here to read about that period.) There was a parade along the sea – remember, part of France’s vision for Nice was advertising it as the perfect escape for Europeans of colder climates – as well as costumes, dancing, and more.

Over the following decades, Carnaval would become more organized. Floats were added to the parade, created by local artists around an annual theme. Local groups of dancers and musicians participated. Flowers, specifically the stunning yellow mimosa, were incorporated.

Other events joined the now two week long celebration. A children’s costume parade. A costumed beach plunge. Light displays. Music. A competition between waiters at local cafes. And more.

Today, Carnaval is roughly the last two weeks of February (although specific dates can change based on the calendar), and attracts more than a million visitors to Nice. And some of them, like me, didn’t even know we were to be part of it.

The easiest aspect of Carnaval to experience is just the ambience. Storefronts have masks. A couple of the floats are on permanent display for the duration in Place Massena. Confetti is all around, and kids in costume or with their faces painted go to and from the small kid-oriented Carnaval Village. To do much more takes planning, and probably some money.

There are both daytime (flower-oriented) and nighttime (light-oriented) parades that run a circuit from Place Massena to the waterfront and back. Stands are set up at both ends, with tickets starting at a bit over €20. There are also places for pedestrians to watch at either end without the benefit of seats, for a bit under €10. The remainder of the route is blocked off from the sidewalks, making views difficult – if not impossible – for those who don’t want to purchase tickets, unless you have a view from a balcony or rooftop overlooking the parade route.

I went to the nighttime lights parade, but before I tell you about it, I need to share an amazing story. Before I come to a new place for an extended period, I like to join Facebook groups for expats who live there. And so it was with Nice. Upon finding out that Carnaval was happening, I posted in the group to ask how best to experience the festivities. A random group member reached out to me, saying that they had tickets for the nighttime parade but had double booked themselves with another obligation. They then offered their tickets, and declined to accept payment for them. I often get overwhelmed with the negativity of today’s world, but am reminded constantly in my travels of how truly wonderful and generous some random people are.

The nighttime parade begins at 9pm, and runs a couple times a week during Carnaval. Tickets suggest lining up by 7, so I did, and I found myself about two thirds of the way back. So yeah, they mean it, although once the security checks opened, processing people through was remarkably efficient. (No big bags, no alcohol, no glass, but bring food and water.) Some dancers and emcee sorts of folks entertained people with time to wait after finding seats.

The parade itself lasted about two hours, and when it says it’s a circuit, it means so literally. You’ll begin with a float in front of you, and end when that one returns all the way around to its starting spot. So there isn’t a true start or end, just a constant experience.

This year’s theme was Vive La Reine (long live the Queen), and floats featured famous women like Jane Goodall and Frida Kahlo, feminist ideals like speaking out about sexual assault, and empowering concepts like women tribal warriors. To say it was awesome would be an understatement.

Between each float was at least one other act. There were dancers (of all ages, which was cool), costumed entertainers, musical ensembles, and more. They were themed to the float they followed most of the time (for instance, the Frida Kahlo float was followed by dancers dressed as flowers from her headband).

Just about every float and other act had some sort of light element, but it wasn’t exactly a light show as I had been expecting. The exception was a ridiculously cool group of acrobats and jugglers in glowing body suits.

(I didn’t attend the daytime parade, or any of the other events, so I can’t comment on those. But I’m sure they were cool and crowded too.)

One note on Carnaval logistics: it leads to street closures. So give yourself extra time and the ability to skirt the route if you are crossing town during parade times.

For another take on Carnaval in the Nice area, one can visit nearby Menton, about a half hour away by train. Here, the city’s Fete du Citron, lemon festival, has been their version of Carnaval since 1875. I didn’t go to the parades, so can’t comment on those, but for a daytime visit, there are a couple ways to experience this version, and for free.

First and most importantly, head to Menton’s Jardin Bioves, a central park area that runs down the middle of the city’s major street. Here, you’ll find huge (literally at least a couple stories tall) sculptures decorated with citrus!

I can’t even describe how cool these are. So I’ll just include a few photos of some of my favorites. (I believe there were seven or eight in total.)

Around the sculptures, and all over Menton, artisans and food shops sell lemon-themed items. These range from amazing lemon tarts to marmalades, lemon soaps and candles, crafts with lemons on them, and even citrus trees. Restaurants even offer festival-centric menus, most of which are their basic offerings but with lemon desserts.

So yeah, sometimes travel can go terribly wrong. But also it can lead to some amazing unexpected discoveries. I’m so lucky that Carnaval in Nice surprised me with an incredible cultural experience, and if you get the chance to be here for it, take it!

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