Mr Carnaval

Last month I wrote about Carnaval in Limoux, the annual celebration that runs for three months and draws locals and tourists alike. Well, this colourful festival concluded for the year on Sunday, and we took the opportunity to witness what we are sure we will never see again in our lives.

Since I wrote about Carnaval back in February, I have learnt more about this event. At the very first procession of the festival in January, the group who dances through the town square brings with them 'Mr Carnaval'; a formally dressed straw mannequin.

Mr Carnaval takes up his post at a table and chair set to the side of the square, and remains there throughout the three months, seeming to preside over the activities. It is not until the end of the very last procession in March that Mr Carnaval has another active part in the celebration, however this role is not nearly as pleasant.

Mr Carnaval oversaw the festivities of Carnaval

The celebration on the last night of Carnaval

Marty and I ventured into town after his Sunday afternoon game to meet up with some friends and wait around for the end of the Carnaval procession, which started at 10pm. We saw the group dancing toward their last stop so we joined the crowds that were huddled under the awnings to avoid the rain. The most noticeable differences in this group from others we had seen over the months were that they were comprised of representatives of various groups, not just one, and they were led in by torch bearers holding flames.

Marty with Vince in costume

As we watched the group dancing past to the beat of the band, I recognised some of the costumes from the procession I had watched in February where I was covered in confetti by a member of the group who recognised me. This same person, dressed in his white and red outfit, approached Marty and I and said 'hello Marty!' before dancing on.

We discussed who it could be, and came to the conclusion that it must be Vince, a man who is involved with the football club and has assisted us and other foreign players with life here on occasion. We watched on as the music ended and the dancers mingled. Vince approached us and confirmed our suspicions that it was him.

The crowd began to move to the centre of the square where a stage had been set up, and took up our place on the outside of a barricade that marked out a square next to the stage. In the middle of the square was a fire pit, with Mr Carnaval strapped to a chair in the middle.

A lot of effort goes into the costumes!

The music began again as the Carnaval procession moved inside the barricaded area. Those in costume danced in and stood near the stage, as people dressed up in full costume to be a judge and jury members assumed their place on the stage. The judge and jury then proceeded to read from scripts in Occitan, a language used in southern France, Italy and surrounding regions. While we couldn't understand the language, we were told that the judge and jury were reading through all of the wrong-doings or failures of the last year since Mr Carnaval was last in Limoux, and blaming them all on him, including the less than impressive season that the Limoux Grizzlies last year.

Following this play, which took about 20 minutes, the band started up again and those in costume formed a circle around the fire pit. They skipped and danced around in the circle as the music was upbeat, and stopped to kneel when the music turned sombre. After some time of this, the men who led the Carnaval procession with torches stepped forward and lit up the fire pit, with the revellers all stopping to watch Mr Carnaval burn.

Mr Carnaval in the fire pit about to meet his fate

We could hardly believe what we were seeing in this small town in the middle of nowhere, in the south of France, at 1.30am on a Sunday night. As if knowing that it would be hard for us to describe, and even harder for you to imagine, we filmed some of the activities to give you an idea of what went on. 

So Carnaval has ended for the year. Without missing a beat though, there is a big annual wine and food festival being held this weekend, as if to ensure that the locals have events to keep them interested, and tourists have a reason to keep visiting. So far this year we have not seen evidence of the sleepy little town we thought Limoux was when we first arrived, and we are loving it!

Mardi Gras in Limoux

Carnaval kicked off in style in Limoux in January, with the otherwise quiet little town coming alive with celebration. As I told you about in an early blog, Limoux is renowned for their Carnaval, held every Saturday and Sunday from early January through until mid-March, making it the longest carnival in the world.

The Carnaval has been celebrated in Limoux since 1604, and, according to my internet research, is based on a tradition that dates back to the fourteenth century, when the payment of taxes to the Prouille Monastery, near Limoux, was celebrated with dancing in the streets. The millers cracked whips and threw flour and sweets into the air as they celebrated.

Limoux's Carnaval has evolved, with the whips being replaced by a ribboned reed called a carabena, and the flour exchanged for confetti as the masked dancers, known as the goudils lead the procession through the town square. Arms wave in the air as the slow dance, which is more like a shuffle, moves to the beat set by the big brass band following closely behind.

There are about 20 groups that participate in Carnaval, with each group sponsored by or associated with a local business, usually a bar, or a social group or organisation. The groups dress from head to toe in their own theme or clown-style complete with face-covering mask, which I'm told is to signify the equality among the members of the group.

Each group is scheduled a day throughout Carnaval to hold their celebration, which occur three times each day: 11am, 5pm and 10pm. The group dance around the Place de la République, progressing from one cafe or bar to the next, where the group retires inside for a drink before returning to dance to the next stop.

According to a local, the procession, which is more a dance than a parade, is now also an opportunity to celebrate wine produced in the area, particularly that of Blanquette, with the various groups promoting sponsored brands.

The event is quite a sight; such a colourful display that attracts tourists and locals alike. The square seems to be a buzz with activity on the weekends, with a festival-like atmosphere enhanced by food stalls, a merry-go-round, and a pop up shop where people can buy their own carnaval costume and mask.

Carnaval was also held today, Shrove Tuesday, as it is a traditional day for celebration around the world, also known as Mardi Gras (which actually translates in French to 'fat Tuesday', and is named for the feast that takes place on this day prior to Lent).

I wandered into town today for a closer look at the evening session of Carnaval, and was not disappointed. The crowds had lined the archways of the square as the band prepared for the procession to commence. I found a spot to stand along a shop front in time to see the colours of the costumes slowly approaching.

The music from the band was catchy and upbeat, while holding a steady pace. Two children who were dressed to match the group were leading the charge, often told to stop and wait as they got carried away with the speed of their dance moves.

People were lined up three or four deep to catch a glimpse, and cameras were at the ready to capture the colour and movement. It took the group about ten minutes to dance the 15 metres from the start to where I was standing, but there wasn't a dull moment.

Confetti was being thrown high and in all directions, covering those watching like snow. I managed to capture a video of the procession before I was approached by someone who obviously recognised me, however I couldn't tell who it was for the mask.

They didn't hesitate to reach into the sack around their neck, pull out a handful of confetti and throw it directly over me. They came in closer and said in heavily French-accented English: 'Hello! I could see you waiting here. Carnival, it's fun no?'. I laughed with surprise, as they took another handful of confetti and rubbed it into my hair.

The first leg of the procession took 25 minutes. At that point the group entered the first bar and ordered their drinks, as the crowd outside started to disperse. No doubt they would return for another chance to watch and move along with the group as they dance to the next bar.

I looked around at the confetti littered all over the ground, which was being whipped up and thrown around by the wind. Everyone in sight had confetti on them somewhere, and as I walked home I caught a glimpse of my hair in a shop window. To my horror, I had a ream of paper's worth of confetti in my hair!

I shook my hair out and had to take off and shake out my jacket and scarf before going inside our house. However that wasn't enough; confetti is still falling out of my clothing by the second, and now our floor is also littered with the small white bits of celebratory paper.

A great festive event that seems to bring the town together, Carnaval continues until March 17, when a big celebration, called the 'Night of the Blanquette' takes place in the square. Here, the other icon of Limoux, Blanquette, flows freely as Carnaval comes to an end for another year.