The 4 Best Things About Antigua Carnival

Caribbean carnivals are a year-round thing—there's one happening somewhere in the region on a near-monthly basis—but you wouldn't necessarily know it. That's because some—like the Caribbean's biggest one, in Trinidad & Tobago; or the highly touted Crop Over in Barbados; or those in Grenada and St. Lucia, which have skyrocketed to popularity in the last few years—are massive tourist draws, while others are content to fly under the radar.

Antigua's is in the latter category—which is why I had to go. A carnival veteran, I'm consistently curious to check out the less blockbuster but no less vibes-y Caribbean bacchanals. Adding to the lure were memories of Antiguan gorgeousness: the island is lush, mountainous and home to 365 pristine beaches, adding up to a different slice of heaven for each day of the year. Here's why Antigua Carnival—staged, like many in the region, to honor August 1, 1834, when enslaved Africans in the British Caribbean were emancipated—earned its place in my heart.

It's As Local As They ComeAlmost a decade ago I wrote a piece for the New York Times about what I called "the Trini-fication" of Caribbean carnivals, by which I meant that Trinidad's carnival industries—its soca music, its promoters, its myriad fete brands—were increasingly populating carnivals all over the region. Antigua has escaped this trend: Its carnival still very much an Antiguan affair.

Don't get me wrong—when it comes to carnival, I adore all things Trinidad, especially the music. But there is something magnificent about seeing a small island elevate and celebrate its own musical vibes. At the locally owned all-inclusive fetes (more on these later), and while playing mas on Carnival Monday and Tuesday with the band Insane (more on this later, too), I heard some of the big Trini hits, yes, but mostly I heard Antiguan soca: classic acts like Burning Flames , who spent decades playing live on the carnival floats, or this year's Road March winner Ballo ( "Bang E Line" is surprisingly addictive!), or the riotous "Fish Dance" hit from 2019 carnival.

"Local," by the way, also extends to regional. Neighboring Eastern Caribbean music styles—Bouyon from Dominica, Jab Jab tunes from Grenada—are staples in Antigua, adding to the frenetic verve on the road.

It's Old SchoolBy "old-school" I mean inclusive, accessible, grounded in community. This is the essence of all carnivals, of course—they are born of resistance to enslavement and pay homage to collective freedom—but the intense commercialization of some Caribbean carnivals translates into a sad reality: many of the fetes, bands and events have become inaccessible to many. In Antigua, though, both Panorama, the ultimate steel pan competition, and the party monarch finals, in which local soca artists compete for a title, cost roughly USD $15, resulting in a crowd that represents a true cross-sector of society. One of the biggest pre-carnival fetes on the island, Caribbean Melting Pot at the Carnival Village, features superstar soca acts like Machel Montano and Skinny Fabulous yet still charges under USD $40 a ticket.

And for carnival Monday and Tuesday, some do shell out for a slot in one of the all-inclusive bands, which comes with costume, drinks and food for two days, but because there aren't many ropes separating the grand procession from the street crowds—they're not really needed because folks respect the ritual—you can also get a near full-on carnival experience by just being in the streets, drink cup in hand. I did a bit of both, playing mas with one of the deservedly most-popular bands on island, Insane , but also spending Monday and Tuesday running behind various trucks on the road, dancing and having a time alongside a slew of others doing the same. Then I closed out the day at Upper Deck Sports Bar & Lounge , a gem of a local spot on the parade route that transformed, as the day went on, into an impromptu carnival itself, with masqueraders from various bands making their way inside to keep the vibes going until the wee hours.

It's New School, TooPlenty of the more modern additions to carnival are not to be scoffed at; Antigua delivers on those, too. My full kit from Insane came with all the bells and whistles expected of carnival costumes these days, including a luxe leather travel bag filled with such goodies as a speaker and an electronic fan. And two fabulous, all-inclusive (read: Trini-style) fetes are not to be missed: De 268 Breakfast Fete and Carnival Dreamz , both of which serve up all the top-shelf liquor, high-voltage performances by both local and Trini artists and the sort of dressed-to-the-nines, see-and-be-seen crowd you'd expect from such an experience.

JouvertThe true litmus test of any Caribbean carnival is Jouvert, because it's the ultimate expression of freedom: a dusk-till-sunrise music-fueled street parade at which revelers cover themselves in paint, powder, mud and more, then get lost in the glorious bacchanal of it all. My Jouvert with Insane was, hands down, one of my best. First, Eastern Caribbean soca, whether from Antigua, St. Vincent or Grenada, just feels like Jouvert—it's raw, raucous and riddled with ridiculously high BPMs. Second, the band was big enough to feel like a movement in full force but small enough that, again, ropes weren't needed to keep the crowds out and we all felt like part of the community instead of some show for it. Third, the powder and paint was relentless to the point of ecstatic madness—exactly as Jouvert is meant to be. At one point the DJ warned those with respiratory issues to get off the road because we were about to be pelted with powder to the point where it was, literally, all we could see.

The best part? Washing it all off, Antigua style, by diving straight from the streets of St. John's into in the glorious waters of Long Bay Beach for a heavenly sea bath.

STAYI almost never recommend an all-inclusive resort. The Verandah Antigua , tucked away on the island's rugged northeast coast, is that special exception, in part because it lacks the elements of most all-inclusives that I do not endorse. Instead of an ill-fitting concrete tower, the 185-room, adults-only property blends into the landscape as a series of standalone Caribbean-sytle cottages scattered across 30 acres of gorgeous coastline. Palm trees abound; a perpetual breeze and a soundtrack of chirping birds complement the luscious grounds. The waterfront suites with private verandahs and two-bedroom plunge pool villas are special sanctuaries.

The hotel boasts five swimming pools, pickleball and tennis courts, a spa and six eateries including an Italian restaurant, a pizzeria and a pub whose late-night eats consistently saved the day, considering the crazy carnival hours I was keeping. But the best part was the consistent inclusion of local food: Jamaican patties at the coffee shop, fresh lobster at the high-end restaurant Nicole's and the manifold Jamaican and Antiguan dishes, from escoveich fish to ackee and saltfish, in the extensive buffet at Seabreeze Restaurant.

Another key local ingredient at The Verandah: music. Whether it was the Tarrus Riley at the property's Reggae Beach or Burning Flames at Lover's Beach—where I recovered from Jouvert with gallons of water and a long nap under a palm tree—the music on property never let me forget where in the world I was. Because why, after all, would I want to?

LOCAL TIPWhether it's for carnival or just for excursions, a hired driver in the Caribbean should specialize in two things: vibes and history. Omara "KingO" Edwards of Omara's Taxi and Toursmight as well have a doctorate in both. He can tell you everything you wanted to know about the Antiguan independence movement or resistance to slavery while DJing a proper reggae set after a full day on the road—and getting you home safe and sound, of course. (268)772-7174/ (268)727-5793; Asnarloent@gmail.com

This article was originally published on Forbes.com