Venice Italy Carnival

Venice Italy Carnival & The Most Spectacular Winter Festivals in Europe

Forget the idea that winter travel ends with Christmas markets — this is the encore. From confetti-strewn canals at the Venice Italy Carnival to firelit Alpine parades and skiing the Vallée Blanche, Europe celebrates winter with the same passion it brings to summer. Think brass Guggenmusik bands shaking medieval streets, elaborate costumes in every color imaginable, and locals drinking — sometimes even handing out glasses of glühwein to the crowd.

My own fascination with these festivals began almost by accident — I was skiing in Cortina when I decided to detour for the Venice Italy Carnival. I arrived just in time for the Flight of the Angel, that breathtaking moment when a costumed performer soars from the bell tower of St. Mark’s Basilica, scattering glitter across a sea of masks below. That single moment — part history, part theater, entirely goosebumps — set me off on a quest to find other winter traditions just as spectacular.

Since then, I’ve tried to explore and experience the best winter events — from lemon-themed parades to solemn UNESCO heritage processions — discovering that Europe’s coldest months can be its most vibrant.

Venice Italy Carnival
Venice Italy Carnival

1. Venice Italy Carnival — Italy’s Grand Masquerade

The Venice Italy Carnival isn’t loud or chaotic — it’s elegant, mysterious, and quietly mesmerizing. In February, the lagoon city takes on a rare stillness: the lapping of water replaces music, footsteps echo through the alleys, and then, out of the mist, appear figures in magnificent 18th-century dress.

These costume wearers aren’t performers — they’re participants. They stroll through St. Mark’s Square and along the Riva degli Schiavoni, pausing for photos with delighted visitors. Many spend months creating or collecting their elaborate masks and gowns, and they’re proud to share their artistry with anyone curious enough to ask.

What makes the Venice Italy Carnival stand out is the masked balls that unfold behind the city’s ornate doors. I attended one — arriving by water taxi from my hotel with a friend, cloaked in velvet and anticipation. Inside a palazzo lit by chandeliers and candlelight, a string quartet played as guests waltzed between courses of Venetian dishes.

It was magical to admire the incredible costumes up close, each more intricate than the last. I did it the affordable luxury way — skipping the costume rental, buying a beautifully detailed mask to keep, and pairing it with a cape that transformed my dress into something suitably grand.

Ice formations while skiing the Vallee Blanche from the Courmayeur Side
Ice formations while skiing the Vallee Blanche from the Courmayeur Side

2. Skiing the Vallée Blanche, Starting from Courmayeur

While most people ski the Vallée Blanche from Chamonix, I began on the Italian side — in Courmayeur — and it made the entire day feel more intimate. The morning started with espresso at the base of the Skyway Monte Bianco, its glass cabins rotating slowly as we rose through the clouds to Punta Helbronner. Stepping out onto the glacier at 3,466 meters, roped in with our guide, I felt that instant mix of awe and adrenaline — the sense that you’re about to cross something extraordinary.

This isn’t a groomed piste; it’s a guided glacier route — long, exhilarating, and hauntingly beautiful. While it’s a popular descent, the experience still feels wild: you ski past deep crevasses, shifting ice formations, and the occasional distant avalanche.

For me, the most powerful part was realizing that this glacier is retreating, and to ski it now is to witness something that may not exist in the same way for much longer. It’s a route that strong intermediate skiers can handle, but one that leaves you humbled by nature’s scale — and deeply grateful to have seen it up close.

You can read about my full experience — from the Courmayeur start to the glacier picnic — in my guide to Skiing the Vallée Blanche.

The battle of the flowers parade in Nice
The battle of the flowers parade in Nice

3. Carnival in Nice, France

What I loved most about the Carnival in Nice, France was the artistry — that unmistakably French choreography that ties everything together. The parade unfolds like a performance: dancers in elaborate costumes move in sync with brass bands, floats glide past in bursts of color, and between them come the flower parades, where performers toss armfuls of mimosa and carnations into the cheering crowd.

Sitting in the grandstand on Place Masséna, with the sea glittering just beyond the palm trees, I couldn’t help but be swept up in the rhythm of it all.

Nice has celebrated carnival since 1294, but it’s far from predictable. Each year brings a new theme and a blend of humor, craftsmanship, and Riviera flair. The Bataille de Fleurs — the Battle of Flowers — might be the most joyful of all, a fragrant explosion of spring in the middle of February.

You can read about my full experience — from the floats to the floral parades — in my guide to Carnival in Nice, France.

A float made entirely of Lemons and Oranges at the Menton Lemon Festival
A float made entirely of Lemons and Oranges at the Menton Lemon Festival

4. Menton Lemon Festival, France

The Menton Lemon Festival is one of those events that sounds whimsical until you see the craftsmanship up close. Every float, every sculpture, every towering archway is built entirely from lemons and oranges — more than 140 tons of citrus arranged into elaborate designs that seem almost impossible.

It’s equal parts art installation and parade, with the bright fruit glinting under the Riviera sun and the air carrying that distinct, sweet-citrus scent. Watching the floats pass feels like being inside a burst of color and light — a celebration that turns the simplest fruit into something sculptural and grand.

What makes Menton especially charming is how the festival spills beyond the parade route. You can wander into the old town afterward, with its pastel facades and sea views, or visit the Biovès Gardens, where the citrus sculptures stay on display for days. Each one is themed — from mythological scenes to architectural wonders — and the detail is extraordinary. I loved that this festival manages to feel both playful and elegant, the perfect mix of French artistry and small-town warmth.

You can read about my full experience — from the citrus parades to the sculpture gardens — in my guide to the Menton Lemon Festival.

5. Acireale Carnival, Sicily

The Acireale Carnival is one of Sicily’s most vibrant surprises — a carnival where the floats don’t simply pass by, they dance their way through town. Each one blasts upbeat music as it winds around the main city squares, circling like a merry-go-round before stopping so you can admire every intricate detail up close.

The scale is staggering: giant papier-mâché figures, mechanical parts that move and blink, and layers of color that seem to shimmer under the Sicilian sun. It’s equal parts craftsmanship and theater, with a good dose of local humor.

Acireale’s baroque backdrop makes the whole spectacle even more surreal. Between floats, I wandered through the crowd with a pastry in hand, caught in that joyful Sicilian mix of noise, scent, and laughter. What struck me most was how personal it all felt — the pride of the creators, the warmth of the locals, the way everyone seemed to know someone who worked on a float. Here, carnival isn’t just something to watch; it’s something you become part of.

You can read about my full experience — from the dancing floats to the Sicilian street food — in my guide to the Acireale Carnival in Sicily.

A guggen band on the steps of the Bellinzona Duomo, plays late in the night
A guggen band on the steps of the Bellinzona Duomo, plays late in the night

6. Bellinzona Carnival, Switzerland

The Bellinzona Carnival, or Rabadan, is easily one of my favorites — a joyful clash of brass, rhythm, and medieval architecture that somehow works in perfect harmony. Each night, Guggen bands fill the old town with sound, playing on church steps and beneath castle walls until three in the morning.

The music isn’t polished — it’s loud, infectious, and gloriously imperfect — the kind that reverberates through the narrow cobbled streets and keeps you smiling long after midnight.

By day, Bellinzona looks almost storybook-perfect, its three UNESCO-listed castles rising above the town. But come carnival week, the quiet transforms into pure celebration. Parades fill the piazzas, masks glitter under string lights, and the sense of community is unmistakable — locals and visitors dancing together, glühwein in hand.

Another reason I love this carnival is how easy it is to reach: just 1.5 hours by train from Milan, it’s the perfect Swiss escape for anyone craving a mix of music, culture, and late-night revelry framed by a UNESCO backdrop.

You can read about my full experience — from the Guggen bands on the church stairs to Bellinzona’s castle views — in my guide to the Bellinzona Carnival.

7. Basel Carnival, Switzerland

The Basel Carnival, or Fasnacht, is unlike any other in Europe — quieter, more precise, and deeply atmospheric. It begins before dawn at exactly 4 a.m., when the city lights go out and masked pipers fill the streets, their piccolos and drums echoing through the old town in haunting harmony.

Thousands follow, carrying enormous illuminated lanterns painted with satire, humor, and political commentary. The result is surreal — a glowing river of light and sound winding through Basel’s medieval lanes.

Recognized by UNESCO as part of the world’s Intangible Cultural Heritage, Basel’s carnival celebrates artistry and discipline more than spectacle. Each clique (parade group) tells its own story through costume, lantern design, and rhythm, all perfectly synchronized.

While the heart of the event belongs to the pipers and lanterns, Tuesday night brings a livelier energy when costumed brass Guggen bands fill the squares with their joyful noise. It’s a carnival that balances structure and spontaneity — reverent one moment, riotously fun the next — and entirely worth the early wake-up.

You can read about my full experience — from the 4 a.m. lantern parade to the Guggenmusik finale — in my guide to the Basel Carnival 2025.

 A cask carrying wine for friends at the Lucern Carnival
A cask carrying wine for friends at the Lucern Carnival

8. Lucerne Carnival, Switzerland

If Basel is Switzerland’s elegant carnival, Lucerne Carnival is its wild younger cousin — loud, colorful, and gloriously unpredictable. From the moment the Guggen bands start playing, you feel it in your chest — a jumble of brass, drums, and laughter that spills from dawn until late into the night.

The city becomes a stage where anyone can join in: masked groups parade along the lakefront, costumed families dance through the squares, and music echoes off the mountains surrounding the old town.

Lucerne’s carnival has deep roots in local tradition, but what makes it so memorable are the unscripted moments. I learned that the hard way when I took a “day off” between parades to go skiing — only to discover later that I’d missed the day the locals bring out their wine carts, sharing glasses first with friends, then with anyone passing by.

It’s the kind of spontaneous community moment that captures the real spirit of Fasnacht Luzern — generous, a little chaotic, and endlessly fun. Next time, I’ll skip the ski slopes and stay for the wine.

Torch bearers at the Liestal Fire Parade
Torch bearers at the Liestal Fire Parade

9. Liestal Fire Parade, Switzerland

The Liestal Fire Parade is one of the most memorable celebrations I’ve ever witnessed in Europe. Walking into the old town as twilight deepened, I felt a hum of expectation — and then the lights went out and the first torches appeared, glowing like embers lighting up the night.

Flam­ing wagons, pinewood fire-carts, and torch-bearers carrying heavy bundles of firewood filled the streets, the crackle of flame echoing off the pastel houses. Watching it made me realize: only in Switzerland would you find a parade entirely based on people carrying fire — and somehow, feeling utterly safe.

This tradition, known as Chienbäse, dates back over a century — with torch-bearers and bonfires marking the end of winter. Today, more than 300 torch-bearers and around 20 fire-wagons blaze through Liestal’s medieval lanes, reaching flames that stretch two stories high.

The train ride from Basel is quick and easy, making this a perfect evening outing before continuing your winter festival journey. You can read about my full experience — from the roar of the fire wagons to the smoky aura of the crowd — in my guide to the Liestal Fire Parade.

A 5-story-tall tin man float at the Cento Carnival
A 5-story-tall tin man float at the Cento Carnival

10. Cento Carnival, Italy

What makes the Cento Carnival so unforgettable is its sheer scale. The floats are enormous — some reaching five stories high — and they move, spin, and blast music and confetti through the streets like living sculptures. It’s incredible to watch creations this elaborate rolling out of a town this size; every figure, face, and mechanical movement is crafted with astonishing precision. The energy builds as the floats circle through the main square, each more dramatic than the last, until the sky itself seems filled with color.

The event pairs beautifully with a long weekend in Bologna, especially if you love good food as much as a good festival. After a morning spent in Bologna’s markets or over a plate of tagliatelle al ragù, it’s just a short bus ride to Cento — where you’ll trade trattorias for towering floats and a spectacle that feels both intimate and grand all at once.

Chiasso hosts a small town carnival
Chiasso hosts a small town carnival

11. Chiasso Carnival, Switzerland

The Chiasso Carnival may not be the biggest, but it’s one of the most endearing. Just under an hour by train from Milan, it’s an easy afternoon trip that feels worlds away — a small-town carnival that’s grown over time without losing its local personality. There’s a distinctly Swiss sense of humor here, the kind that’s clever, offbeat, and often delightfully absurd.

My favorite float had a theme called Chicken Spa: a small chicken getting a massage, a giant chicken being “carved” by costumed chefs, followed by a troupe of dancing chickens moving perfectly in step to chicken-themed music. It was so funny and well-executed that the crowd couldn’t stop laughing.

That’s the spirit of Chiasso — friendly, unpretentious, and full of personality. You can grab a plate of polenta, chat with the locals, and enjoy a few hours of pure, lighthearted fun.

12. Château-d’Oex Hot Air Balloon Festival, Switzerland

I first visited the Château-d’Oex Hot Air Balloon Festival while tacking it onto a ski trip — one of those spontaneous detours that turned into the highlight of the week. The town sits in a wide Alpine valley, and for one week every January, the sky fills with color as dozens of hot air balloons lift off against the snowy peaks. It’s quiet except for the low rush of burners, and when the sunlight hits the balloons, they seem to hover in slow motion above the mountains.

The most enchanting part came at night, when pilots performed a synchronized light show — illuminating their balloons to music so they glowed rhythmically like giant lanterns in the dark. Locals gathered with mulled wine, the crowd clapped in time, and for a few minutes, the whole valley shimmered with light and sound. It’s one of those rare winter experiences that manages to feel both spectacular and personal — the perfect Alpine encore to a ski trip.

Lit lanterns at the Mendrisio Holy Week Procession
Lit lanterns at the Mendrisio Holy Week Procession

13. Mendrisio Holy Week Procession, Switzerland

The Mendrisio Holy Week Procession is unlike any other event on this list — quiet, spiritual, and profoundly moving. On the evening of the procession, every light in the old town is turned off, leaving only the soft glow of hundreds of hand-painted lanterns. They hang from walls, archways, and balconies, each one illustrating scenes from the Passion.

As you walk through the narrow streets, the town feels suspended in time — silent except for footsteps and the low murmur of the crowd.

Then the solemn procession begins. Religious statues are carried out of the church, followed by marching bands and locals holding illuminated lanterns — children, families, and entire generations moving together through the darkness. It’s a deeply emotional sight; many people in the crowd are brought to tears.

Recognized by UNESCO for its cultural importance, this centuries-old ritual captures a kind of devotion and beauty that words barely convey. It’s not a spectacle — it’s an experience that lingers long after the last lantern fades.

The Blanc-Moussis are the star of the parade at the Stavelot Carnival
The Blanc-Moussis are the star of the parade at the Stavelot Carnival

14. Stavelot Carnival, Belgium

The Stavelot Carnival is one of those rare events where history, humor, and sheer absurdity collide in the best possible way. I’d managed to find a small hotel room right on the parade route, complete with a tiny balcony overlooking the cobbled street. It seemed like the perfect spot — until the manager warned me, quite seriously, to close all the windows.

Even on the third floor, he said, the tall floats would try to blast confetti into the rooms, and every year someone ended up with an apartment full of it (and a hefty cleaning bill). I took his advice — but watching from the balcony, drink in hand, I could still feel the laughter and energy swirling through the air.

At the heart of the celebration are the Blancs-Moussis — local men dressed head-to-toe in white with long red noses and hoods. Their origins date back to the 15th century, when monks in Stavelot were forbidden from attending carnival, so townspeople created the Blancs-Moussis (“clad in white”) to mock them.

Today, they’re the soul of the parade — waving pig bladders, tossing confetti by the fistful, and making a joyful racket as they weave through the streets. It’s ridiculous, brilliant, and uniquely Belgian — a carnival that doesn’t just celebrate tradition, it laughs with it.

The Gilles wear magnificent costumes with magnificent white plummed hats
The Gilles wear magnificent costumes with magnificent white plummed hats

15. Binche Carnival, Belgium

The Binche Carnival is one of Europe’s most extraordinary cultural events — a UNESCO-recognized celebration that feels as much a rite as a festival. Its stars are the Gilles, local men who appear only on Shrove Tuesday dressed in intricate, symbolic costumes that have remained nearly unchanged for centuries.

They wear fitted suits of vibrant fabric padded with straw, each one detailed with heraldic patterns and jingling brass bells. But it’s their magnificent white-plumed hats that steal the show — towering headdresses made from real ostrich feathers, so large they seem almost impossible to balance. Watching them move through the crowd, upright and steady beneath that forest of feathers, is mesmerizing.

The Gilles march to the rhythm of drums, carrying baskets of oranges they toss to the crowd for luck. Each movement feels practiced and proud, passed down through generations. The air smells of citrus and beer, and the whole town hums with anticipation as the procession winds through the narrow streets.

There’s something deeply moving about it — not just the spectacle, but the sense of continuity and care that keeps it alive. The hats may look impossibly heavy, but you can tell: wearing one is a moment of pride that every Gille dreams of.

A view of the Morteratsch Glacier from the Bernina Express Train
A view of the Morteratsch Glacier from the Bernina Express Train

16. The Bernina Express Winter Journey

While not a festival, the Bernina Express deserves a place among Europe’s most magical winter experiences. This UNESCO-listed train route winds from Tirano in Italy to St. Moritz in Switzerland, climbing through frozen forests, glacial valleys, and tiny mountain villages blanketed in snow.

Watching it all unfold from the panoramic windows feels like slipping into a moving postcard — the kind where time slows and every turn reveals something even more beautiful than the last.

There’s something especially captivating about taking the Bernina Express in winter. The trees are frosted white, the lakes shimmer with ice, and the viaducts look like they’ve been drawn in chalk against the mountains. It’s peaceful, almost meditative — the perfect pause between the energy of Europe’s winter carnivals.

I like to think of it as a gentle transition from celebration to reflection, a reminder that sometimes the most memorable cultural moments happen in complete silence.You can read about my full experience — from Tirano to St. Moritz — in my guide to the Bernina Express Winter Journey.

Plan Your Winter Journey

From the elegance of the Venice Italy Carnival to the glowing lanterns of Mendrisio, Europe in winter is anything but still. Each festival tells its own story — some through music and color, others through silence and candlelight — but all share that same heartbeat of creativity and community. These aren’t just events to witness; they’re experiences to feel — moments that blur the line between traveler and participant.

For me, what began as a detour from a ski trip has become a yearly ritual: seeking out the season’s most unforgettable celebrations, from confetti-filled squares to snow-covered valleys. Whether you’re drawn to the rhythm of Guggen bands, the glow of lanterns, or simply the warmth of a glühwein shared among strangers, there’s something magical waiting in Europe’s winter months.


Your Turn

Do you have a favorite winter festival — one that left you in awe, made you laugh, or warmed you on a cold day? I’d love to hear about it in the comments below. Share your favorite memories or the events still on your travel wish list — I’m always looking for new celebrations to add to next year’s itinerary.