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Sometimes it is quiet enough to hear a pin drop in the narrow streets of Lucca.
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And sometimes the only thing heard is the gentle rhythm of one person walking.
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Sometimes it's the easily recognized sound of plastic luggage wheels bouncing along the uneven stones.
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And sometimes it's the reverberation of drum beats echoing through the narrow canyon-like streets as a parade passes by.
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Unfortunately, I found out neither the occasion nor the purpose of the parade. But it was colorful, loud, full of life, and fun to watch. Ah, Lucca!
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