A joust of joy in an ancient Italian hill town

Seattle Times Travel editor Terry Tazioli is off to Rome for a while, on his annual quest for good food, good wine, good friends and a new Italian verb form or two.

Montisi, in Tuscany between Rome and Florence, is one of countless hilltop villages all over Italy. They have centuries-old roots and families that have lived in them for that long. Others are becoming new homelands for expatriates.

Each has its history, its legends and its celebrations.

I was lucky enough, thanks to a friend, to be in Montisi for one such festival — La Giostra di Simone. (loosely, Simon's Joust) A little history: At the close of the 13th century, Simone Cacciaconti and his band of hooligans, already having laid waste to nearby areas, pounced on Montisi, burning and plundering. But Simone was unable to hold the area; the residents didn't like the guy or what he'd done, so he bolted for Siena where he later died.

However, he and his departure are still celebrated, in, what for him, must be a dubious way.

Each August, there's a festival, the end of which is marked by jousting competition on the town's sports field. And Simone, or his effigy, is the punching bag.

Each of the town's four neighborhoods (called contrada; neighborhood is a rough translation) sponsors a horse and rider — arrayed in period costume — who then attack the effigy of Simone , with a lance, scoring points by striking a target in Simone's hand or by spearing a ring from his shoulder. It's a great spectacle and great fun.

Leading up to the event are parades, again in full and gorgeous costume, art shows, blessings and town dinners.

Each contrada throws a dinner on the Saturday night before the joust, for a lot of people. The dinner I attended (Contrada San Martino — viva!) fed more than 200, easily. The tables were lined up end to end down the street. I can't remember all the courses (though there was antipasto, pasta with tomatoes, lasagna, chicken, sausage, panna cotta, etc.), nor all the wine. We started about 8:30 in the evening and finished well after 1 in the morning. Many stayed longer and partied all night.

The evening's highlights?

— For me, a couple of drinking songs I'll teach anyone who wants to listen as I screech them, though you'll need to provide the wine.

— A discussion of Rupert Murdoch's takeover of the Wall Street Journal — in Italian. I did not bring up the topic. The Italians did. And they knew his name. Raise your hand if you can name one newspaper owner anywhere in the world outside the U.S.

— The approach of a cardinal-red-attired figure (also the color of Contrada San Martino), bottles of wine and plastic cups in hand, who insisted that everyone in his path down a cupful while he stood there and watched. I did.

— Feeling perfectly and happily accepted and at home.