Partying til the cows come home.

Partying til the cows come home.

Livers and clean shoes should be scared of Cadiz, Spain during Carnaval. Every spring, thousands of people flood to the small coastal city to drink, eat, and be merry. Oh yeah, and they all wear costumes. If Mardi Gras and Halloween were spliced together, it would be something like this. We left Sevilla at 9:30pm to arrive in Cadiz at 11pm. When we got there, we followed the human river to the center of town, where lights, food stand, and lots and lots of people were drinking, dancing, and meeting one another. The center was standing-room-only, so naturally it was incredibly difficult to explore with groups of more than 3-4 people, we separated and explored, navigating the crowded square like we were at a concert.

The worst part of Carnaval? No bathrooms. I’ve never waded in a septic tank before, but I’m tempted to say it was similar. Mix lots of people, LOTS of alcohol, crazy costumes, and no bathrooms, and you’ve got a hell of a party on your hands. We partied hard alllll night until 5am, when the busses took us back to Sevilla. I ran into my newfound Colorado friend Kaci and we got some pictures. My white shirt also became the canvas for various forms of alcoholic art, where the ink was wine, beer, or soda. I dressed as a pirate, which was lame compared to some of the costumes we saw, but if you had face paint on, you’d fit right in.

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