Eyewitness: A sign - in English - to "Keep off the Lawn" stands in the middle of the Piazza Risorgimento. But for a nice, sheltered spot of soft greenery less than a kilometre north of St Peter's Square, it was never going to happen, writes Kathy Sheridan in Rome.
Cheek by jowl with the sign, 19-year-old Tom is sound asleep on a floor sheet, his Polish flag draped over his face. A few yards away, 22-year-old Jaime is running the Spanish flag up a pole before attaching it to a handy piazza sapling beside his tent.
A little Polish group is having a picnic on the grass, breaking out the tinned fish rations. Beside them, three skinny boys are stretched out, their T-shirts pulled up to their chins, the better to roast their pale torsos in the hot Roman sun.
Nearby, a young entrepreneur is doing a nice trade in "Goodbye Papa" T-shirts. Another is flogging last Sunday's newspapers announcing the death of the Pope. Further on, a morose-looking individual is selling the usual religious kitsch of Papal busts, paperweights, and rosary beads in little boxes adorned with the papal image.
For the young followers of "Giovanni Paolo", as they call him, this is about as good as it gets, short of setting up camp in St Peter's Square itself.
Showing a commendable grasp of reality, the city authorities chucked away the rule book and made the best of it. A mobile hospital has been set up yards away, the usual coterie of civil defence volunteers are virtually begging all-comers to take the free bottled water, and big screens and speakers are in place, relaying images, prayers and music from the basilica.
Apart from yesterday's Polish invasion, with its throat-catching displays of regret, emotion and proud flag-waving, the outstanding image of this week has been the hordes of young people in their teens and early 20s pouring into Rome.
To call them "young people" is to imply a homogeneity that simply is not there.
While the American satellite TV station CNN devoted much of their schedule one morning this week to a young British rock duo, Raindown, singing Crucifying You (recipient of senior church approval, by all accounts), down in St Peter's Square young, exuberant Italians danced and wiggled and belted out the songs they learned when Giovanni Paolo invited them to Vatican World Youth Day in Rome in 2000.
Five years on, it seems that the sense of loss at his passing is melding with nostalgia for that amazing time when two million of them travelled from all over Italy and experienced what was - for their age - the nearest thing to a parentally approved 10-day rock concert. These were the youthful followers with their football chant of "Giovanni Paolo" who were dubbed the "Papa boys" by the media here.
Ask them what they mean when they say they "love" him - which they say repeatedly - and they talk about him as a "man of peace", "someone who brought all the people together", but above all about "that happy time" back in 2000.
"What I am doing now," says bright-eyed, 21-year-old Nicoletta, "is thinking about the jubilee when we were all so young and we made a celebration for the Pope. We have come here today to say 'thanks for all you did'."
Many, when pressed on Catholic teaching and the Pope's orthodoxy on sexual matters for example, simply shrug and admit that not only are they not regular Mass-goers, but they don't think about any of it very much at all.
"I can pray at home better than in church," says Rita. "You can be just as near to God there."
Nicoletta nods happily: "Many are not here as much for the Pope as for the man. To us, he seemed like the loveliest father in the world. Even atheists have come here for that reason."
Four young clean-cut Americans, also in their early 20s, present a very different take on their religion. Assertive and certain of their righteousness, they loved him for his conviction, reflected in their own. "We love him because he never compromised the faith," says Natalie.
"He had the truth and he called the youth to be the future of that truth. He never tried to change the faith to get the youth to come to him - he made the true faith appealing to the youth."
All four - who attended the "very orthodox" Christendom College in Virginia - are assiduous Mass-goers. Jeremiah, a construction worker, attends daily. "That's how I was raised by my parents."
"My Mom also," adds Natalie. "She was Jewish and became a convert because of this Pope."
They all voted for George Bush in the last election, "mostly because of his pro-life stance". Three of the four are of Irish descent.
Talk to young Polish people, by contrast, and their sense of loss and regret is like that for a father. Wrapped in the Polish flag and often wearing Solidarity scarves - a movement dating to before they were born - they admit that their adoration of John Paul has an element of political as well as religious fervour.
Again and again, they talk about a man who never forgot his people, who crushed the oppressors and continued to mind them like a father.
"When we could not speak 'God' out loud, because of the government, he did it for us," says a thoughtful 23-year-old Beata. "And I think we must accept that whoever is the head of the church cannot be seen to change the teachings. But of course, we in Poland also find the issues of sexual behaviour very difficult to deal with. The difference I think is that my country is still quite conservative compared to yours so not many people are questioning this . . . that is, for now."
Meanwhile, back in the Piazza Risorgimento, the mood is calm. Not a Smirnoff Ice in sight or bottles of anything apart from water.
Not for the first time, it is notable that tens of thousands of young Europeans can mix easily without resorting to alcohol.
It's also notable that young Irish and English people are conspicuous by their relative absence from this week's phenomenal events.