Each summer, Siena’s medieval streets become a stage for one of Europe’s most visceral sporting rituals. The Palio is not simply a horse race. It is an expression of contrada identity, rivalry, and belonging, where neighbourhoods carry centuries of pride into a frantic 90-second sprint around Piazza del Campo. Here, the horse, not the jockey, is considered the true victor, and even a riderless cavallo scosso can claim glory if it thunders over the line first. In a twist of local psychology, the greatest loser is the one who finishes second, condemned to live with the bitterness of almost winning. In the days before the race, the city shifts. Processions, blessings, rehearsals, and private rituals build towards a single moment of controlled chaos. On race day, the clay track is treacherously tight, especially at the San Martino bend, where speed, danger, and devotion collide in brilliant spectacle. These photographs trace that arc, from ceremonial calm to the aftermath, capturing how history and obsession collide in the heart of Siena.

A young member of Oca contrada joins the procession through Siena’s streets, flowers in hand

Pages of the Corteo Storico carrying the Elmo del Capitano di Guerra, the civic parade helmet used by Siena’s war captain

A guard from the Corteo Storico, steadily moving on the slow procession through the streets of Siena

A few drumbeats from Leocorno echo around Piazza Salimbeni as the tamburinpo cues the sbandieratori, the drummer guiding the contrada’s flag-throwers in a quick display

A Leocorno footman in a moment of stillness ahead of the historical procession preparing to march through the streets of the city

A sbandieratore mid-throw, the flag suspended against the sunlit stone of the Campo

Jonatan “Scompiglio” Bartoletti drives hard into Civetta into Curva di San Martino. Thirty-three starts, eleven contrade, five wins, though not this year

Giuseppe Zedde pushing Valdimontone to the line, the last metres of the race turning into a wall of noise as the contrada sensed the win

Aquila contrada’s horse skims past the rail, colour bending in a shimmer

Jubilation and shock from the winning contrada, Valdimontone, during l’assalto, the first chaotic moments after the finish when the crowd vaults the barrier and floods the track

The Campo heaving after the race, a Torre sbandieratore pushing his flag through a tangle of colours and noise

On the walk to the Duomo, Siena’s grand cathedral, Valdimontone’s barbaresco leads the winning horse, visibly overwhelmed as the contrada follows, their chanting echoing off the tall medieval walls