Nearly Fifty Marchas Transform the Sanjoaninas into the Largest Celebration of the Azorean Community
There comes a moment each June in Angra do Heroísmo when the city ceases to be merely a UNESCO World Heritage city and becomes something far older and far more profound. It becomes a living stage upon which generations of Azoreans perform the story of who they are.
This year, that story was told by nearly fifty voices.
A record forty-nine marchas populares filled the streets during the 2026 Sanjoaninas festivities, transforming the city into a vibrant tapestry of music, choreography, poetry, tradition, and communal joy. Never before have so many groups gathered to celebrate São João in Angra, a remarkable testament to the extraordinary growth of what has become the largest secular festival in the Azores.
As twilight settled over the city on the evening of June 23, the Official March departed from Alto das Covas, accompanied by the Banda do Senhor Santo Cristo de Toronto, a symbolic reminder that the celebration of Azorean identity stretches far beyond the islands themselves. With lyrics by Pedro Cravo Fernandes and music by Gualter Silva, this year’s official march embraced the theme “Angra and Azoreanity,” celebrating not simply one city, but the cultural heartbeat that unites all nine islands and their far-reaching diaspora.
“Together at the Sanjoaninas of Terceira Island… we sing loudly with joy, leaping over the bonfire… Angra’s decorated streets, the passing marches… it is our Azorean roots celebrating Saint John.”
Those opening verses became the anthem of an unforgettable night.
For more than seven hours, thirty-four adult marchas wound their way through Angra’s decorated streets. Long after midnight, thousands of spectators continued to line the avenues, applauding each performance as neighborhoods, associations, families, and communities brought months of preparation to life. By the time the Official March returned to Alto das Covas shortly after four in the morning, the city had experienced one of its longest and most memorable nights of celebration.
Yet the festivities were only half complete.
The following evening, Angra once again filled with spectators as nine children’s marches and six additional adult groups took to the streets, ensuring that the tradition belongs not only to today’s participants but also to the next generation. The children’s performances were more than charming spectacles; they represented the passing of cultural memory from parents and grandparents to young Azoreans who are already learning that identity is something to be lived, sung, and danced.
Perhaps the most striking feature of this year’s celebration was not simply the record number of marchas, but where so many of them came from.
What was once primarily a Terceira tradition has evolved into a truly archipelagic—and increasingly international—celebration. Six marchas traveled from São Miguel, joined by groups from Graciosa, São Jorge, Pico, Madeira, and, significantly, two groups from Canada. Their participation illustrates how the Sanjoaninas have become more than a local festival; they have become a gathering place for the broader Azorean family, wherever that family now calls home.
The phenomenon extends well beyond the marchers themselves.
Each participating group brings relatives, friends, musicians, supporters, and visitors. Hotels fill, restaurants remain busy from morning until late at night, rental cars become scarce, and local businesses benefit from an economic vitality generated by culture itself. The Sanjoaninas have become one of the most important engines of summer tourism on Terceira, proving that heritage and economic development need not compete with one another. Instead, they flourish together.
This remarkable growth has inevitably presented new organizational challenges. The Municipality of Angra do Heroísmo has already acknowledged that the increasing number of participating groups will likely require a formal regulatory framework to ensure the smooth running of future editions. Yet municipal leaders have been careful to emphasize that any future regulations will seek to facilitate—not restrict—participation.
That philosophy is essential.
The marchas belong to the people before they belong to any institution.
They remain, at their heart, spontaneous expressions of community life, created by volunteers who dedicate countless evenings to rehearsals, costume making, choreography, music, and friendship. Their value cannot be measured solely by the precision of their performances but by the social bonds they strengthen throughout the months leading to São João.
There is a temptation in modern festivals to focus exclusively on attendance figures, visitor statistics, or economic impact. Those measurements are important, but they tell only part of the story.
The true success of the Sanjoaninas lies elsewhere.
It lies in neighborhoods that continue to organize together. In children who eagerly wait to wear their costumes. In grandparents who still remember the melodies from decades past. In emigrants who cross an ocean simply to march once again through the streets where their parents and grandparents once celebrated. In strangers who arrive as visitors and leave feeling, if only for a few days, that they too have become part of the island’s story.
The forty-nine marchas of 2026 demonstrated something larger than numerical growth.
They demonstrated that tradition is not a relic preserved behind glass. It is a living, breathing force that evolves without losing its soul. Each new group, each visiting delegation, each child joining the parade, each family returning from abroad adds another verse to an ever-growing song.
And so, when dawn finally arrived over Angra after two extraordinary nights of music and celebration, it left behind more than tired dancers and silent streets.
It left behind the reassuring certainty that the Sanjoaninas continue to do what they have always done best: bringing an island together while reminding the entire Azorean world that no matter where its people may live, they still know how to march to the same heartbeat.
Adapted from a story in Diário Insular and photos from Sanjoaninas — Câmara de Angra and Diário Insular.
