The contradas are like residential colleges if you were born/baptised into them, were the size of small towns, and were about 1000 years old. There is passion here beyond anything I've ever seen, where even the selection of horses is cause for tears (of joy or sorrow). I have become desensitized to the sound of drum cadences. Flags are normal, as are men in tights.
And the next few days should be good.
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