Roma

So Rome is noisy. From what I can tell, it’s really just three basic phonemes, sent in serial, and repeated ad nauseum: the flatulent exhaust of motorini throttling and scooting about, a panoply of poorly-chosen ringtones, and the constant, dopplered whines of ambulances.

One need ride a Roman taxi only for a minute, with a driver using his knees to steer, and gesticulating with both hands during a cellphone conversation, when suddenly it becomes startlingly obvious that a vicious cycle keeps these three noises in business.