I went to the world’s second-biggest carnival – and found a party to rival Rio

Landing in Tenerife on a packed February flight from London Gatwick, most Brits aboard will be making their way to the sunny south, where resorts and volcanic black-sand beaches skirt the coast. But we’re heading north, to the island’s capital Santa Cruz de Tenerife, a city in the throes of its annual carnival – after Rio, the second-biggest on the planet. 

A major stop on the cruise trail, Santa Cruz is an artsy little city. Among its many public installations is the Islas, 1995 light installation in Garcia Sanabria Park, where the names of art greats from Pollock to Miro are illuminated in the treetops as the sun goes down. Then there's the striking Auditorio de Tenerife, a cultural centre beneath a sweeping white arc on the city’s waterfront, reminiscent of the Sydney Opera House. It’s a fitting place to host the island’s biggest cultural celebration, an event where being vibrant and expressive is pretty much a requisite.

We arrive a good few hours before the party really starts, but I’ve already spied a handful of groups in impressively detailed and coordinated costumes, including a half-dozen Jack Sparrows posing for a photo on a bar patio. In our hotel, the sleek Grand Mencey, a carnival rep in full costume and make-up works the lobby, and the hotel’s shop touts fluorescent feather boas and Venetian masks. These last-minute accessories are, of course, for visitors like me, who shoved a pink sparkly skirt in her luggage and considered herself carnival-ready. The locals could never be so half-arsed – across the next two nights, that much becomes clear.

Donning a costume is a tradition taken seriously, not only by the performers but by spectators

Donning a costume is a tradition taken seriously here, not only by the troupes, murgas and comparsas that take part in the parade, but also by spectators. The theme, in 2024, is television. On our first night, at the family parade, TV-themed (and, sometimes, TV-shaped) floats advance along the streets, with people dressed as characters from kids’ shows and films – Spongebob, Stitch, Aladdin – waving and throwing out sweets.

The next night is the Big One: the Parade of Rhythm and Harmony, where the Carnival Queen is crowned. Walking down the parade route, it’s hard not to believe that the entire population of Santa Cruz is present – families fill up every inch of the pavements on either side, over-excited kids in princess and superhero costumes cross-legged at the front. 

We’re at the top of a block of tiered seating with a near-bird’s-eye view of the parade, where music krewes and aspiring Carnival Queens compete to win over the crowds. It’s a triumphant, theatrical and wildly impressive spectacle: elaborate, supersized headdresses; acrobats, skateboarders and dancers; kids as young as toddler age leading the procession, bashing out choreographed drum routines. 

But it’s the unofficial carnival – the unruly street parties where no-holds-barred revelry continues until the early hours – where you’ll get a real glimpse of locals’ creativity and commitment to the carnival theme. While the carnival has roots on the island as far back as the sixteenth century, it was only in the late ’80s that the new tradition of an annual theme was adopted. Since then, themes have encompassed everything from pirates and flower power to horror movies and the deep sea.

‘Costumes start getting prepped as soon as the theme is announced, usually a month or so after the last carnival,’ our tour guide Ancor Robaina, who was born and raised on the island, tells me. ‘People get so into the theme that they stay in character all through the night. If you’re dressed like a doctor, you’ll speak like a doctor, act like a doctor. We take it very seriously.’

I've been to London’s Notting Hill Carnival – another street party which often claims to be the second-biggest, after Rio – many times. But, in terms of sheer commitment to fancy dress, the only thing I can compare it to is the Ally Pally darts, or maybe Halloween at an American college. 

Late in the night, well after the parade is over, the party is only just getting started in Santa Cruz’s historic piazzas and cobblestoned streets. At around 3am, I wind up at Plaza del Princípe, a small central park. It’s teeming with people, and dizzyingly surreal. I squeeze through a sea of TV characters, disorientated. I spot Homer, Bart and Lisa; round the corner, Marge is pouring a shot into Chandler Bing’s mouth. Is this something Marge would do? I’m thinking about the Simpsons episode where Marge briefly takes up heavy drinking when I spot Dwight Shrute. I ask him for some directions, but he doesn’t speak any English. I am conspicuously costumeless and clearly out of my depth. 

I spot Homer, Bart and Lisa; round the corner, Marge is pouring a shot into Chandler Bing’s mouth 

I emerge from the crowd and catch my breath. I’m realising I must go hard, or I must go home. With an 8am checkout looming over me, I admit defeat. I go home.

Tenerife Carnival returns in February, with the theme ‘Africa’. 

Grace Beard was hosted by Tenerife Tourism and stayed at the Grand Mencey Hotel. Our reviews and recommendations have been editorially independent since 1968. For more, see our editorial guidelines.