It’s about 80° Fahrenheit and sunny out here, and there are two men parked right in front of the steps, just outside of the entrance of Via Dei Priori. I can see the sweat marks on the back of their blue t-shirts, and an expression of exhaustion on their tan faces as they speak amongst themselves. They’ve been moving back and forth between a building, moving and loading what seem to be industrial cleaning supplies into a small, white van. An industrial vacuum and a carpet cleaner are among the objects they carry. For things that are particularly heavy they use a white, rusted dolly, that creaks violently, almost as if it will fall apart at the next uneven stretch of cobblestone it hits. The two men are careful and discuss ways to circumvent those parts of the ground, both to avoid dropping their heavy equipment and to avoid causing the dolly more damage. But it is practically impossible to find even ground in this town. Every time they open the back doors of the van, the warm, gentle breeze carries smells of tobacco and dirt toward the steps. The people walking, wandering around Piazza IV Novembre, turn and stare at the two men as they move about. Those who notice the men quickly lose interest and continue walking, avoiding the offensive smells of urine and filth that also fill the streets, and move toward the more pleasant and inviting smells of the cool gelato shops and coffee bars.