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And
finally as to the magic…the spell of history and location,
the sounds and scents of this city.
But magic cannot be described in words.
You have to go and seek it out.
On the evenings of July 2 and August 16,
a few minutes after the Palio race,
laid tables are set directly on the tufa of the racecourse,
right on the last curve where the fate of the race was
destined.
The voices and sounds of the Festival’s end,
the lit torches on the merlons of the Mangia Tower,
the drums beating out their victorious rhythm create a
summer night’s enchantment,
an unforgettable,
magical experience.
But a November day has its own magic with its heavy sky and
the stones of the Campo shiny with rain.
The freezing wind wends its way into Chiasso del Bargello
alley.
Behind the Spadaforte Restaurant’s misted windows is the
scent of mushrooms,
new wine and a certain subtle sweetness that rises from the
heart like the enchantment of a dream.
Though magic cannot be described,
perhaps these words will help you find it. |