20 Strangers Crash Brazilian Carnival (And Everyone Came Back Alive)

If you know anything about Brazilian Carnival, you know this was a terrible idea.

20 strangers from 15 different countries. One month together. In a beach town going absolutely feral for the biggest party on the planet.

When we first floated the idea of running a Casa Basilico chapter during Carnival, people thought we were insane. And honestly? They weren't wrong.

But here's the thing about delulu ideas: sometimes they become the best stories you'll ever tell 💅🏻

The Setup

Pipa is not Rio. And that's exactly why we chose it.

Rio during Carnival is... a lot. Millions of people. Massive parades. Tourist prices. Easy to get lost, pickpocketed, or completely overwhelmed if you don't know what you're doing.

Pipa is different. It's a small beach town in northeastern Brazil – think cliff-top ocean views, outdoor showers, açaí for breakfast, and live music spilling out of every restaurant. During Carnival, it transforms. Street parties everywhere. Local parades through town. Dancing on the beach at sunset. But still small enough that you can actually experience it without losing your mind (or your passport).

We found a pousada right in the heart of it. Private rooms, shared spaces, pool, and – crucially – a kitchen big enough for us to cook for 20.

Then we opened applications and waited to see who was crazy enough to say yes.

The Group

They came from everywhere.

Poland, Germany, Canada, Italy, France, the US, Netherlands, UK, Lithuania, Denmark, Brazil (obviously), and a few more we're probably forgetting. Age range from mid-20s to early-40s. Developers, designers, marketers, one freelance photographer, someone who does something mysterious with crypto.

Most of them had never been to South America. A few spoke Portuguese. Most didn't.

90% of them arrived alone. Knew nobody. Had booked a flight to Brazil to spend a month with strangers based on... what exactly? Our Instagram? A friend's recommendation? Pure delulu energy?

Whatever it was, they showed up. 20 people, one WhatsApp group, zero certainty about what was going to happen next.

This is either going to be incredible or a complete disaster, Fabio said as we watched the first arrivals come through the gate.

Spoiler: it was both 😏

Week One: The Chaos Begins

The thing about Carnival is you can't half-ass it. It comes for you whether you're ready or not.

Day two, we're still doing introductions, people are jet-lagged, trying to figure out the WiFi situation – and then we hear the drums. A bloco (street parade) is coming through town. Someone grabs their phone. Someone else grabs a beer. Suddenly we're all in the street, surrounded by hundreds of locals in costume, dancing to a samba band at 3pm on a Tuesday.

That was the moment the group clicked.

Not through icebreakers or team-building activities or "share an interesting fact about yourself." Through getting swept up in something together. Through laughing at how ridiculous this all was. Through realizing that nobody here knew what they were doing – and that was completely fine.

By dinner that night, it didn't feel like 20 strangers anymore. It felt like a crew.

The Daily Rhythm

Let's be clear about something: we work.

Like, actually work. Someone needs to pay the bills, and most of our guests have real jobs, real clients, real deadlines. This isn't a vacation disguised as a coliving. It's a coliving where adults get shit done during the day and then enjoy life after.

Weekday mornings and afternoons: Laptops open, Zoom calls happening, people deep in focus mode. The coworking setup was solid – good WiFi, quiet spaces for calls, coffee flowing. You'd walk through during work hours and it looked like any office, except with ocean views and better weather.

After work: That's when things shifted. Beach. Pool. Açaí runs. Someone starts cooking early, and suddenly five people are in the kitchen chopping things and arguing about the right way to make caipirinhas.

Evenings: Some nights we stayed in – massive Italian dinner on the terrace, wine flowing, conversations going until 2am. Other nights, we went out. Live music here, random bar there that someone heard about from a local.

The balance is real. Work hard, play hard. Nobody's judging if you need to skip dinner for a deadline. Nobody's impressed if you never touch your laptop. We're all adults figuring out how to do both.

Carnival in Olinda: 4 Days of Complete Madness

Okay, so Carnival.

Here's what we did: we rented a villa in Olinda – one of the most traditional Carnival spots in Brazil – with 4 rooms. For 27 people.

Yes, you read that right. 27 people. 4 rooms. 4 days of Carnival.

It was insane. It was cramped. It was one of the best experiences we've ever organized.

Olinda during Carnival is something else. Not the mega-parades of Rio – this is street-level, local, raw. Giant puppet processions through cobblestone streets. Frevo music everywhere. Dancing until sunrise. The whole town transforms into one continuous party.

And we were in the middle of it. All 27 of us.

The airtag situation: Look, we're not stupid. You don't take 27 people into Brazilian Carnival without a plan. So we gave everyone airtags. Sounds paranoid, sounds like helicopter parenting – but when you're in a crowd of thousands and someone wanders off following a street band, you need to be able to find them.

Did we use them? Yes. Multiple times. Did everyone come back? Also yes.

The villa was chaos – people sleeping in shifts, bathroom negotiations, impromptu pasta sessions at 4am when everyone stumbled back hungry. But it worked. Because when you've been cooking together for weeks, when you actually know and trust these people, you can handle a little chaos.

Four days. Zero disasters. Memories for life.

The Boat Party

Okay, this might have been the peak.

We rented a boat. And then we invited... everyone. Past guests, friends, friends of friends, locals we'd met. By the time we set off, there were 100 people on that thing.

One hundred.

Picture this: a boat off the coast of Brazil, absolutely packed. Music blasting. People jumping off the side into the ocean. Someone trying to teach salsa moves on a rocking deck, which went exactly as well as you'd expect. Pure chaos energy.

And then Edgaras took over the DJ set.

If you'd met Edgaras at his first Casa Basilico chapter – quiet Lithuanian guy, sat in the corner – you would not have predicted this moment.

But four chapters later, here he was: DJ'ing a boat party for 100 people in Brazil, everyone screaming the lyrics to whatever he was playing, fully in his element.

That transformation. That's what we do this for.

Someone who showed up nervous and alone, who didn't know if they'd fit in, who almost didn't book – now controlling the vibe for a hundred strangers off the coast of Brazil.

Not strangers anymore. Family.

The Moments Nobody Photographed

The best parts are always the ones you can't capture.

The 4am conversations on the terrace, when the party was over but nobody wanted to go to bed. Talking about life decisions, past relationships, fears about the future. The kind of conversations you only have when you're exhausted and your guard is down and you've known someone for two weeks but it feels like years.

The morning someone came down looking wrecked and the entire kitchen crew immediately made them coffee, found them aspirin, and forced them to eat toast. No questions. Just care.

The sunset where everyone happened to be on the terrace at the same time, and we just stood there in silence watching the sky turn pink over the ocean. Nothing profound was said. Nothing needed to be.

The goodbye dinner where multiple people cried. Where we went around the table and each person said what this month had meant to them, and it took two hours because everyone kept interrupting with "oh my god, remember when–"

Those moments. That's the stuff you can't plan for. That's what happens when you put the right people in the right place and just... let it unfold.

Everyone Came Back Alive

Let's be honest: taking 27 people to Carnival in Olinda sounds like a liability nightmare.

The fears are real. Pickpocketing. Getting lost in crowds of thousands. The language barrier. The intensity. The fact that Carnival encourages exactly the kind of behavior that usually ends badly.

And yet.

Nobody got robbed. Nobody got hospitalized. Nobody missed their flight home. The airtags helped – yes, we tracked down a few wanderers. But mostly? The group looked after each other.

When someone had too much, there was always someone else keeping an eye on them. When someone got separated, there were immediately ten people texting "where are you??" (and checking the airtag location). When someone needed to tap out early, nobody gave them shit about it.

That's the difference between traveling solo and traveling with a crew. Solo, you have to be vigilant constantly. With the right people around you, there's always someone who's got your back.

That's not something we built. That's something the group built together. We just created the conditions for it to happen – and gave everyone tracking devices, just in case 😏

Would We Do It Again?

We already are 🇧🇷

January 2026, we're heading back to Pipa. Same vibe, same chaos, same carnival energy – but with everything we learned from the first time.

Better property (we found an incredible spot). More structure around work hours for people who need it. Clearer communication about what Carnival actually means.

And the same core promise: you show up alone, you leave with a group chat that'll be active for years.

If You're Thinking About It

Maybe you've been scrolling through this thinking: this sounds insane. I could never.

We get it. The idea of flying to Brazil alone, to live with strangers, during the craziest festival on the planet – that's not a small ask.

But here's what we've learned after 7 chapters and 200+ guests:

The people who say "I could never" are usually the ones who should.

The nervous ones. The ones who almost didn't book. The ones who spent three months stalking our Instagram before finally filling out the form.

Those are the people who get the most out of this. Because they show up open. They're not trying to be cool or prove anything. They just want to experience something real, even if it scares them.

And then they end up DJ'ing a boat party in Brazil, crying at the goodbye dinner, and booking the next chapter before this one even ends.

There Will Never Be a Perfect Moment

Your calendar will never magically clear. You'll never feel 100% ready. There will always be a reason to wait.

But if something about this – the chaos, the community, the pasta, the dancing, the 4am conversations, the people who become friends for life –

If something about that sounds like exactly what you've been missing...

Come with us 🌞

Pipa, Brazil. January 2026. Carnival included.

Want to know more about what a month with Casa Basilico actually looks like? Check out Why We Have a Call With Everyone Who Wants to Join or How We Started a Coliving With Zero Business Experience.

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