I had chosen Beribe to experience my first carnaval for two reasons: it was close to Fortaleza; and it was considered to be one of the states finest.

By the time we arrived at the beachfront house we were staying at, the party was well underway. The bar-b-que that is a focal point of Brazilian life was almost ready and the beer was chilled to perfection - as only Brazilian beers can be.

Although I only knew a few people there I was made instantly welcome and soon found myself centre of attraction. It often strikes me that the Brazilians love only one thing more than children, and that is a visiting foreigner who is willing to try and learn a few words of Portuguese, try to understand the culture and accept things for what they are (it also helps if they are football mad and admit freely to crying last summer in France).

Inbetween lumps of perfectly cooked meat, my host explained to me how important at this time of year it was to be with family and friends, and that as I was so far away from home, I had to make myself at home and consider myself amongst family. Being with family and reconciling the past year, that is carnaval he told me.

No sooner had I finished my food than I was dragged off for a cruise on the beach. I stood on the back of the neon pink beach buggy, as the front seat was taken up with the driver's cooler of beer. We went shooting round the beach at about 100 km/h. Suddenly, whilst bouncing over the sand dunes the driver, who was old enough to be my father, would see some pretty girls and would shoot off in the opposite direction to chase them along the beach, we chased another group into the sea and spent an amusing five minutes driving in circles around another whilst they threw bags of flour at us. I was still hanging on the back for dear life, tears rolling down my cheeks.

So this, I thought, is carnaval. Doing all the things you really wanted to do all year, but for some reason, you couldn't.

Later that night after a few more beers and a lot of good conversation, we headed off for Carnaval proper. I still wasn't really sure what to expect. So far the day had been like any other normal day in Brazil - a little bit of drinking, a little bit of silliness and a little bit of chasing semi naked girls around the beach in a neon pink buggy.

Driving to the next town for the carnaval was something incredible, almost beyond my comprehension. Every conceivable road law was broken; I saw 7 people in a buggy and people sitting on the bonnet of cars, I even saw one car slide gracefully into a military police car with a sickening crunch of metal. The police didn't seem too concerned as they were sitting on a bench, pump action shotguns resting on their knees, drinking cokes and chatting with some girls. Every car had its boot open and awesome sound systems pumping out loud distorted carnaval music - los Hermanos' Ana Julia seemed to be the most popular song that night. We left the car about a kilometre away and made our way through the crowds.

I had received an invitation from the town's mayor to enjoy carnaval from the VIP area, but when I arrived and saw the few sad empty boxes overlooking the square, and then the packed throbbing square below, I tucked my VIP invite into my shorts and dived headlong into the mass of humanity.

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