Notting Hill carnival may be cancelled – but it lives on in my heart

A year or so ago, before Covid-19 came in and uprooted society as we know it, I was asked to write a short story. There was no brief, so I thought about two of the things I love the most in this world, and decided to combine them. West Side Story, my favourite musical of all time (though obviously problematic in so many ways, mainly the casting) and Notting Hill carnival, the most wonderful time of the year. What came to be was “Notting Hill Carnival: A West Side Story”. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed writing something so much. I got to rework a love story that we’re all familiar with, and set it in and around an annual celebration of Caribbean culture.

And the best thing was, I didn’t even need to wait until the next Notting Hill carnival to do my research; it was just there in my head. The music, the colours, the food, the feeling of community, the thrill of it all. The getting lost in the day and emerging at night, sweaty and exhausted, feet throbbing. That it’s cancelled this year is obviously right, and heartbreaking, but while we enjoy (or choose to forgo) the digital iteration of carnival, so many of us will have the fondest of memories in our hearts to carry us into next year, until it happens again.