On Monday, the day was finally here. The 2nd
of July. A day awaited for a whole year from all Sienese people and also from
me. The Palio. Till the very day I considered not going to the actual horse
race (I have been to a lot of the practice races), because let´s face it I am
slightly claustrophobic and with my
super low blood pressure I tend to faint standing in the sun for too long. And this
is what we were about to do. We would stand in the sun with a humongous amount of
people and wait. While melting away, we
would count the minutes till the canon ball announced the arrival of the
jockeys. This is not exactly my ideal situation to watch horse races. But then
I made a decision during the midday and I gathered all my strength for the task
ahead. Luckily I have some pretty awesome roomies, which know how things are
done in this town. A lot of tourists waited in the full midday sun since two pm,
when the race would not start till eight. So here is how we proceeded, we
rested and relaxed during the day and as half past six came along we squeezed simultaneously
through a tiny street, the last one still open at that time. It felt like
pushing through the birth canal all over again. Via Dupré is not even broad
enough for two cars to pass next to each other, but what felt like ten thousand
Sienese people, they now how it´s done. Forget queuing and organization, we are
in Italy!
Even if till now my description of the big day
sounds weird, it is a day I am sure I will tell my kids about. One day when
they come into the house after running around between cherry trees and basil,
when I am about to lay them down for the night and their big hungry kids eyes
are glued to my face as I am about to tell the goodnight story.
I will tell them of a town, far, far away.
Hidden between the Tuscan hills, where tradition is hold higher than any value
in the life of many people. I will tell them of noble man and race horses, of
Carabinieri dressed Armani (yes they
will know what that means)…
… I will tell of a tension I have never seen
before in a crowd so passionate.
… I will tell them that the minimum 35° degree
sun felt refreshing after finally arriving in the piazza.
… about all the colorful Contrada (neighborhoods) processions passing by.
… about fierce rivalty between the Contrada´s.
… about the fest being of unity felt among
anything.
… about fazzoletti
(scarf´s with each Contrada´s emblem),
swung high in the air as the oxen drawn wagon passed by.
… about the absolute silence when the positions
of the horses are drawn, and how emotions swing high with each representative
horse coming to the starting line, or rope in this case.
… about the not even full two minutes of the
race, when the whole universe seems to breath nothing else but this moment.
… how the members of the winning contrada tear
up, go over barricades, hug their horse and jockey.
… how the contrada del´Onda (neighborhood of
the Wave) will swing their noble flags for hours around the city center.
And how the night dissolves into a fest which
will not stop for several days.
This is passion.
This is Siena.
And at night I lay my head down with the
feeling of being honored and thankful to have witnessed the Palio.
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