Piazza del Campo, Italy, is one of my favourite places on the planet.
Il Campo, as the locals call it, is the beating heart of Siena – a city in Southern Tuscany that still feels stuck in the Italian Renaissance.
Unlike its Tuscan twins, Pisa and Florence, Siena isn’t overrun with baying crowds.
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It’s why, after two days following the Tour de France through the baking heat of an Italian June, I chose to visit.
I’d been a few times before I hopped on a train down from Florence to Siena on Monday (July 1) – and upon arriving in Siena, the serene walled old town I remember seemed different.
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In the distance, from the direction of Il Campo, I could hear drums, cheering and chanting. Only after walking down the narrow, twisting, cobbled streets did I discover what was happening: it was the Palio di Siena.
To the residents of Siena, this is their World Cup final – “It’s everything,” a local bartender told me as I fumbled to order a drink in broken Italian.
The Palio has for centuries been a competition among the city’s districts, called contrade, that sees a jockey from each contrade race around the Piazza del Campo – the winner claiming bragging rights for his district, it’s been this way since 1633.
Twice a year, Siena’s streets are dominated by the colours of the contrade on July 2 and August 16. Tradition is at the centre of the event, horses are chosen and then blessed in local churches.
The fantini (jockeys) are local heroes, images of the winners are akin to Diego Maradona winning the World Cup as joyous fans reach out to try and touch the man who made all their dreams come true.
After settling in for a drink, myself and a friend decided to purchase one of the traditional scarfs – so we could declare ourselves for one contrade. It wasn’t race day until Tuesday (July 2), but the final day of ‘trials’ were happening the evening beforehand.
On the hunt for scarves, we turned down a street that housed the local church in the Aquila contrade . Stood on the cobbled path were two boys, no older than 16, ready to wave the flag from their district.
The Palio is gilded in tradition – and it was most evident here.
The two boys threw their flags into the air, danced and welcomed the drummer, who they then followed into Il Campo. We witnessed this with a handful of other individuals, locals I can only presume.
You couldn’t avoid the race, eating pizza we saw locals, with drinks in hand, heading to Il Campo – while TV screens showed pundits chatting away, predicting the outcome.
Images were then shown of hundreds of fans packing the tight streets marching towards the centre.
It was the night of the open-air feast when we were in Siena, where chosen Champions have one last meal before horses are blessed at local churches.
A nervous night’s sleep follows as it’s race day the following morning, riding bareback, it’s three laps of Il Campo before a winner is crowned and celebrations go on long into the night.
It was a unique experience – one I’d implore anyone else to try… So, if you find yourself Siena-way on July 2 or August 12, give it a go!