The arch of ‘Saint’ Constantino at Sedilo through which more than 100 riders gallop their horses into the sanctuary
The sun has barely risen over the distant Gennargentu Mountains before the first rifle shots ring out.
It’s the coolest part of the day, but the horses are already beaded with sweat
Their teenage riders sit tense in their tiny Sardinian saddles, anxious not to disgrace themselves in front of the town’s elders; swarthy men in crisp white shirts and black velvet leggings, who’ve upheld this ancient ritual since they were barely men themselves. Among the circling posse at the top of the hill, a single woman among 100 horsemen stands out.
Suddenly, the first of three riders carrying sacred flags breaks free of the group, galloping at full pelt towards a dangerously narrow stone arch. He’s taken the ‘enemy’ by surprise, but they’re soon in hot pursuit, charging for the same target with wreckless speed. As the riders disappear in a cloud of dust, polenta from hundreds of blank cartridges fired above their heads shower the roaring crowd.
This is L’Ardia, one of the most extraordinary religious festivals you’re ever likely to witness, held each July for the past 300 years in the centre of an island where saints are as numerous as sheep. Except the ‘saint’ for whom this race is run – Constantino, better known to us as the Roman Emperor Constantine the Great – does not officially exist in the Roman Catholic church.
Men in traditional costume, armed with rifles, their belts full of cartridges filled with semolina wander among the crowds
No one is entirely certain why a tiny town of barely 3,000 people, 500km from where a 4th Century military victory put the first Christian in charge of the empire, should insist on re-enacting such a pivotal moment in European history. Nor why they took it upon themselves to elevate Constantine to the status of a saint. But 1200 years later they built him a church inside a walled sanctuary where thousands of pilgrims now come every year to watch this uniquely Sardinian event and take part in the religious services and feasting that accompany it.
For the townsfolk, L’Ardia is more than a spectacle, it’s a way of life; a timeless test of skill, faith and courage that binds one generation to another. It’s a race with no winner, save tradition.
“I rode my first L’Ardia at 15, like my father before me, and I promised that every horse I ever owned I would bring here,” one veteran explains. More than 20 years later, his own sons, aged 17 and 19, are riding with him. No doubt their sons – or daughters – will do the same.
Marco, a young man, now taking part in his third L’Ardia on a four-year-old Anglo/Arab/Sardinian mare, enjoys the thrill of the race and the ritual but has taken the precaution of swapping the traditional Sardinian saddle for an English one. “It’s safer. It gives my knees better contact with the horse and stops me sliding forward,” he says as he lets her drink from a bottle of water beneath the trees behind the church. His caution is justified; in the not-so-distant past L’Ardia has claimed casualties among both riders and spectators.
Young riders like Marco can wait decades to earn the honour of becoming sa prima pandela
At 9am the sun is already scorching the parched hill looking out over the sparkling Lago Omodeo. The air is pungeant with the smell of warm leather and horse sweat. Below the trees the annual party has begun as crowds of onlookers crunch across a carpet of spent cartridges towards food stalls of torrone, hot sausage and drink. The priest is bringing an outdoor service of thanksgiving to a close and the TV cameramen are speeding away towards their next assignment.
But among the riders, thoughts are already turning to who will have the honour of carrying the sacred flag the following year – a decision that is entrusted to the priest to announce next spring and based not just on skill or guts, but also on faith and regular devotion. The anointed can wait years, even decades to prove themselves worthy of becoming sa prima pandela.
Their reward is not so much in the deafening approval of the crowd but in knowing they are now bound to a moment in history; to this place and for all time.
Horses have played a significant role in Sardinian culture, ever since they arrived on the island, probably with the Phoenicians around the 4th Century. The closest living relatives of these early Asian horses are the Giara, named after the high stony plateau in south central Sardinia where 700 of them still roam wild. Small, hardy and spirited they have been crossed with Anglos and Arabs to produce a taller breed more suited to equestrian sports. You can see more on the Giara here
Not only are horses still widely used on farms, but sumptuously decorated with bells and flowers, they feature in virtually every Sardinian festival. One of the biggest is the Cavalcata Sarda in Sassari at the end of May, but during the winter months, daredevil teams perform spectacular acrobatics at speed through many small Sardinian towns. The L’Ardila at Sedilo takes place every year on the evening of July 6 and is repeated early on the morning of July 7.
A version of this story was first published in the Take One newspaper in July 2015.
Comments