Through twisting alleys garnished with thick, green ivy. The air thick with the smell of fresh bread, pasta, cappuccino, and gelato. Cobblestones jut from the ground, wobble from centuries of heavy foot traffic. Suddenly the path opens, sprawling into a wide piazza. A rising wave of voices swirls from the masses turning, spinning, walking, sitting, laughing, singing, and watching, all filling an elongated oval.