In this personal essay, a writer reflects on 60 years of the Notting Hill carnival, tracing how their relationship with the event changed from childhood boredom to lifelong devotion. As a reluctant child in the carnival's 1960s infancy, they saw it as a strictly Caribbean affair organised by their parents' generation, offering little appeal to a football- and bike-obsessed pre-teen forced to trail steelbands for miles. The piece illustrates how a cultural institution can be reshaped by the generation that inherits it, turning an obligation into a source of belonging and freedom.

The turning point came in the 1970s, when static sound systems such as Coxsone Outernational, Jah Shaka and Sufferah HiFi began establishing a presence at carnival, playing reggae, lovers rock, soul and funk that reflected the post-Windrush generation's own tastes rather than simply recreating the Caribbean. This let teenagers stand around drinking smuggled-in spirits and beer near a chosen sound rather than trudging behind parades, and as crowds grew so did the footprint of the event, with rigs spreading as far as Harrow Road and Colville Terrace. The writer recalls carnival becoming an unmissable annual pilgrimage and social ritual, contrasting the makeshift drink-carrying methods of the 1970s with modern conveniences like an insulated backpack seen at a recent Arsenal victory parade.