The training circus is a vast oval of hardened earth and packed sand where the dust is churned daily by the thundering hooves of racing horses and the grinding wheels of chariots. Tall stands surround the arena, their wooden seats worn smooth by the years. The intermingling scents of sweat, leather and horses are heavy in the air, accompanied by the sharp cracks of whips and shouts of veteran trainers and their young charges. From dawn each day, the circus is a haven of activity as hopefuls and horses alike train relentlessly, yet, in the evening, there is a sense of calm over the area as steeds are led back to the dim stables at the back of the circus where many of them are housed. Though nowhere near as grand as the Circus Flaminus, the training circus seems to shimmer with something almost more powerful: the ambition of many.