Field Note
What's it like to travel with National Geographic? Take a look at this report from the field.
Tuscany Family Adventure
August 2008
Picture this...we’re on a hilltop in Tuscany lined up in three teams--Pantera, Bruco, and Drago--named after the contrade (neighborhoods) that will race horses around Siena’s piazza in the upcoming Palio. Behind us rise the turrets of a 13th-century castle--our home for the week. Below us, the pool. It is a picture of calm now, fringed by olive trees high above the countryside. In a few minutes, it will be the site of gleeful pandemonium: we are about to hold our own Palio race. Kids and adults and adults who feel like kids are dressed variously in swimsuits, shorts, and togas. Our contrada leaders hoist their flags and we descend to the poolside, heads held high.
And then the competition begins. Pantera takes down Drago in a fierce tug-of-war. A water-balloon toss leaves everyone doused and giggling. One of the dads starts up a chant of B-R-U-C-O as his team pulls ahead in the egg-and-spoon swim relay race. We cheer on our contrade, jumping up and down, all wrapped up in the frenzy. “It felt,” says 11-year-old Allison in retrospect, “quite like the real Palio.”
Days later, we find ourselves in the Piazza del Campo, walking amid the parade, drummers at our elbows, banners flapping overhead, carried proudly by men in medieval costumes and soft leather slippers. Flag bearers launch their poles high in the air, their insignia fluttering against a backdrop of beautiful facades as they fall. We’re completely immersed in the pageantry--it might as well be the 14th century.
From our prime seats in the bleachers, we survey a field of people, poking out windows, leaning over balconies, crammed into the piazza. And then, inconceivably, the crowd falls silent. Each contrada is called to the starting line. The faces of the crowd are tense, emotional, and eager. This race matters.
Bareback horses paw restlessly at the sand-covered cobblestones. There are a few false starts. The jockeys reign in their fidgety mounts. And they’re off!
“This,” says Allison, “is nothing like the Kentucky Derby.”
