So you missed last Sunday's Siena Palio and, unlike Tony Blair and his family who will be Tuscan guests once more this year, you are unlikely to secure a ringside seat in the Piazza del Campo for the next race on 16 August.
Excellent: the alternative Palio is more fun. Those who opt to roam the streets of Siena for the build-up and watch the race on TV in a cafe with a mass of hysterical humanity have got it right. To those who rejected the prospect of sweating it out with a 40,000-strong crowd in the Campo comes the glory of joining the post-race party at the Duomo while the supposedly lucky ones remain trapped in the piazza until the police let them out.
Do it the ligger's way. Do not stay in the city itself unless you do not mind paying premiums for what few hotel rooms are left. Catch the first train in, or park your hired car in one of the 24-hour multi-storeys.
Watch the warm-up race on the soft, orange earth at 9am when the Campo is virtually empty. Drink strong coffee and eat panini for breakfast in one of the jam-packed cafes already abuzz - but at that time of day with Italians not Americans, Germans or Japanese.
See the sights early. The Pinacoteca is famous, so is the Palazzo Pubblico and its Lego-look tower. But you won't get round everything in a day, so why torture yourself? Get out there and enjoy the atmosphere.
The streets are awash with colour. Every building displays its contrada's (district's) flag, so find a church and watch a horse blessing: 'Go, little horse, and return victorious.' Follow the procession of flag-waving men in medieval costume. Women trot along chanting the Palio song, with words tailored to district rivalries: 'You revolt the city', and 'We are an electric current, touch us and you die'.
Go back to the Campo for the pre-race demonstrations. There is a last chance to get into the pen but you won't get much of a view.
Head instead for your selected cafe to watch on TV. Within seconds the equestrian battle is over and the real race begins: to reach the cathedral and welcome the victorious horse and jockey. Drums drive the euphoric crowd closer to the altar. Weeping skinheads and unshirted old men clasp each other. Chubby women are helped up to teetering vantage points on antique pews by teenage daughters.
Afterwards it is off to the ancient streets in the winner's territory to celebrate. Don't stay till the end - the party lasts for weeks.
