Salvador, Brazil in mid-late February: the night lasts until 8 AM, the day begins at 3 PM, and you’d better wear a pair of sneakers you can afford to get filthy. This is Carnaval at its craziest. After taking the huge lift from the lower, quieter part of the city (free during the week of festivities), you will immediately see the signs of revelry coming from every direction, turning on virtually every sense.

You will be sprayed by small children with aerosol cans of soap, out way past their bedtime.

Your shirt will be stained with mud, beer, and sweat.

But most importantly, you will start moving even if you have never danced in your life. The persistent drum beats from any of several constantly moving parades or bands-on-wheels are like the soundtrack of some sort of huge nightclub if you stay in one place, with the rhythms building in volume as they approach, then fading as they are replaced by the next group of musicians, following closely behind. You won’t be able to stay in one place, however.
The crowd will keep you moving, as will your own feet. I found that my legs were sore the next day just from all of the involuntary dancing I was doing. Sleep away the day or explore the outskirts of Salvador, and do it all again (although completely differently, what with the different musicians and dancers every night) until Ash Wednesday, when it all disappears and the clean-up and atonement of Lent begin.

It was dirty, exhausting and sweltering, but also an unforgettable experience that absolutely cannot be missed if you happen to be in that particular place at that particular time.