As a native New Orleanian, I was curious. How would a city like Venice do carnival?

There are no parades with tractors pulling floats down the street. There aren’t even streets. There are bridges everywhere, spanning the canals that lace together the beautiful, old-world city of Venice. The parading is regal. Carnival-goers, silent, in full-faced masks, preen for the cameras and the crowds. Marching bands are replaced by bistro music, while costumed patrons sit on the palazzo, sip champagne and people-watch. People-watching is what carnival in Venice is all about. And there is plenty to see.

The spectacle of the early morning French Quarter crowd has nothing on the European maskers. Color and drama are their stock in trade. Many of the troupes that strut through the narrow alleys of the city are coordinated–not unlike the families of Dalmatians on St. Charles Avenue–in beautifully crafted, elegant regalia. It is as if maids from the carnival balls walked the streets escorted by Mardi Gras Indians.

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