Warning: This post is long and has a lot of pics….but it’s AWESOME!!

Eight years ago, almost to the exact date, I visited Siena with my mom on a two week trip to Italy. This is when I learned about Siena’s famed Palio and made a goal to see it for myself someday.

Siena is divided into 17 neighborhoods, or contrade, and each contrada is represented by colors and symbols. Some contrade are allies, while others are fierce enemies! Il Palio is a horse race that occurs bi-annually (July 2 and August 16) in Siena. Ten contrade are chosen at random to compete in each Palio, with the remaining seven being guaranteed a spot in the following years’ race. The Palio is like no other horse race! The jockeys ride bareback and actually, the jockeys don’t really matter at all. It is the horse that wins the race, with…or without…its rider! There is only one rule during the Palio: no sabotaging a horse’s reins. The rest is fair game: bribery, cajoling, pushing, hitting, you name it. But I will get to all of that later!

When my mom and I visited, she bought a scarf from the Tartuca (tortoise) contrada. I was so excited to take this same scarf back to Siena with me, eight years later, and cheer for the tortoise. Slow and steady wins the race, right?!

Today, the day before the race, Siena was filled with elation and anticipation. The talk on everyone’s lips was who would win, who paid how much for each jockey, and how the horses would perform! Every street was proudly displaying the colors, flags, and symbols of its contrada.

Torre (Tower, represented by an elephant) – Onda (Wave, represented by a dolphin) – Oca (Goose, represented by a goose)

Each contrada also has its own church, museum, and fountain.

Fountain of the Selva (Forest, represented by a rhino)

Everyone gets in the spirit…everyone!

She is rooting for Oca, the goose!

And you know what else is great?! Each contrada proudly walks its horse around Siena the day before the race. The members of the contrada follow the horse around, singing, playing drums, and just celebrating! We just happened to “run into” the Tartuca (tortoise) crowd!

The horse of the Tartuca.

About a week before the Palio, a veterinarian checks all the equine contenders and the ten best prospects are determined. Four days prior to the race, the horses and jockeys are randomly paired. The jockeys have already been selected (and paid heftily) by each contrada. Each horse then moves to the “barn” of his/her assigned contrada and is attended to 24 hours/day…until the Palio. In order for the horse and jockey to get to know one another and prepare for the big day, there are trial races held each day leading up to the Palio.

Joe and I were lucky enough to have a bird’s eye view of the last (and most important) trail race prior to the Palio. It was basically a dress rehearsal.

The Palio takes place on Siena’s main square, Il Campo. The thing is…the Campo isn’t a circle…or even an oval. It is fan shaped…making for an even more interesting race!

Every inch…and window…and balcony was full!

The horses walked out from the town hall and prepared to line up between the start ropes.

Umm….someone please tell my tortoise (blue and yellow) that everyone runs the other direction. Good thing this was just a practice race!

And they’re off!! My tortoise (blue and yellow) was in the lead!

For reasons which I will explain in a minute, Joe was cheering for the Chiocciola (snail), who came in for the win.

Winning the practice race is never a good sign, if you ask me. Regardless, it was really exciting watching all of the pomp and circumstance!

After the trial race, the night before the Palio, each contrada hosts a dinner. Basically…the biggest block party you have ever seen! Joe was rooting for the Chiocciola (snail) contrada because that is where we spent the rest of the evening. We came to find out that the Chiocciola (snail) and the Tartuca (tortoise) contrade are actually enemies. Needless to say, I tucked away my tortoise scarf before heading to dinner.

Via Roma, Contrada of the Chiocciola (snail).

Supposedly, there were 1,300 people dining in the Chiocciola contrada tonight. A different time I heard 1,700. A third time it was 2,000. So, somewhere between 1,300 and 2,000 people were eating dinner together in the streets of this tiny neighborhood! I guess wine consumption and the accuracy of estimations have an inverse relationship!

So many plates!

You would think that feeding that many people out of one kitchen would turn into a never-ending task. I must say, though, that it was quite efficient. Just over 3.5 hours to serve 4 courses to over one thousand people! While we were eating there were speeches from the jockey, the Chiocciola Captian and the Chiocciola President. The jockey also made a lap around the numerous city blocks that the tables filled, escorted by drummers and flags.

Unfortunately, the jockey is blurry, but check out the servant man who has to follow him and carry the helmet!

Everything was decked out in snails…even the chairs!

It was a great meal, with lots of wine and even a personal meet n’ greet with the jockey! How we ended up in the “Society of the Snail” (contrada club house) with our new Sienese friends, drinking grappa and singing “Brindisino la la la la la” (Italian drinking song) at 1am is still a little hazy…

I can’t wait for tomorrow!

As a first-stop on our quickie Italian weekend, Joe and I decided to hit-up Cinque Terre, Italy’s 5 hill-top/coastal towns. After seven hours of driving – the last of which entailed single-lane, winding, near head-on collision, take your breath and one of your nine lives away roads – we were looking forward to relaxing with some Italian wine and a great view of the Ligurian Sea.

This is what we found instead:

Ok, not a problem. We turned around and tried to find another route and hoped that the GPS would catch up with the new plan soon. After some more wandering, we found ourselves amidst a small group of cars, all of which were having a hard time determining what their next steps were going to be. I got on the phone with our hotel owner and tried to decipher, through an exceptionally thick Italian accent, what she suggested we do. To make comprehension matters worse, Joe started yelling in German out the driver’s window to some guy who saw our license plate and thought we knew what we were doing. Ha! What a debacle! I honestly have no idea what the lady on the phone told me to do. However, she was very clear about the fact that she was only going to stay until 7pm waiting for us.

We opted not to drive to Levanto, as the road block suggested, and instead made our own plan! So, after surviving another 30 minutes of driving on the “road”, parking 5 miles from the nearest town, and praying that the car would be there when we got back, we began our sweat-filled walk to the ferry.

See, here’s the thing: there were devastating flash floods in October of 2011, particularly in Vernazza (our destination) and Monterosso. We still have no idea if the road has remained closed since 2011 or if it’s impassable for some other reason. Regardless, there was absolutely no indication anywhere during my research process that there would be road blocks nearly two years later. What made me feel a bit better was that we were not alone in this perplexing situation.

So, we jumped on the ferry at the northwestern-most town of the Cinque Terre, Monterosso, and took it all the way to the southeastern end of Riomaggiore. It was actually a beautiful way to see all five of the towns from the sea.

Monterosso

Tiny Corniglia perched in the hills.

But, we still needed to get back to Vernazza…via train. A train that never came. So, while I was on the phone again with my favorite Italian hotel proprietor, trying to explain why we wouldn’t be there on time, Joe wandered around Riomaggiore and found the wine he had been looking forward to. Forget the beautiful sea panorama…tonight it was going to be a view of the train tracks! The train did eventually come…after we finished the entire bottle of wine.

In all honesty, it really wasn’t that big of a catastrophe. We actually got to experience three of the Cinque Terre towns, instead of the two we had originally planned. When life throws you curves, you learn to swerve. I’ve got a lot of fun memories from this swerve.

Verona, Italy is best known as the residence of star-crossed lovers Romeo and Juliet. Although these fictional characters are over 400 years old, they are just that: fictional characters. The beautiful thing about Verona is that it allows Shakespeare devotees to blur the lines between reality and fiction.

Juliet’s house– After walking through a short entrance littered in love-graffiti, this is the first sign I spotted.

It reads (in short): This is a historical monument. Help us keep it clean…It is forbidden to damage or smear/smudge the walls. According to criminal law, offenses will be avenged with up to one year prison sentence or a fine of €1,039. I thought it was really fun for several reasons: 1) I understood it. 2) the irony of sign and wall. I waited patiently for the German-speakers to get out of the way so I could take a good shot and then wandered through throngs of people to find Joe and show him my clever discovery. He gave me a courteous sympathy-smile, then pointed out the same sign written in half a dozen other languages. Whatever.

Speaking of signs that tell you not to do things, this is a good one:

There are hundreds of locks in the courtyard, each one professing its own vow of love. (Hopefully each lover’s fate is better than Romeo’s and Juliet’s!)

Then there is Juliet herself, willing to be molested thousands of times a day, in the name of luck. Or love. Whichever you trust more.

Joe cops a feelski, in hopes of scoring some luck. Watch it buddy!

Juliet’s tomb– Despite 95^o+ temps and oppressing humidity, I made Joe walk across town to find Juliet’s tomb, mainly out of curiosity. I mean, how could a fictional character be buried in a tomb? Shockingly, you have to PAY to find out. Out of principal, I didn’t want to pay, but curiosity was victorious this time. You need a large suspension of disbelief to really enjoy this. I’ll give it to the Italians. They have mastered the art of The Entrance Fee.

If you build it, they will come.

Ok, now for the real reason we came to Verona….performance of Aida at the Verona Opera Festival!

We figured the best way to see an opera, was in Italy, at the Arena di Verona. This amphitheater models Rome’s Colosseum and holds a festival each summer with 5 different productions. The sets are kept outside during the day, and re-assembled on stage each night for a different performance, via crane.

Arena di Verona and set materials.

It was a beautiful and slightly breezy night, great for sharing an opera with our Florentian friends, the Flammias,  and thousands of other spectators.

Flammias and Walls

Photography wasn’t allowed during the performance, but a few illegals never hurt…right?

Act II

Find the 4 horses on stage!

Death scene

Just as amazing as the show, was an Italian man (I assume) across the arena from us. After a great song (there were many), before the rest of the audience had time to react, he would yell “Bravo” or “Bravi”. The acoustics in the area are so good, that none of the performers use microphones, and this guy could be heard clear as day, every time. His joy added to the ambience of the entire experience.

I don’t think we’ll need to see another opera in our lives. It just can’t top this!