Saturday was the Feast of the Assumption: more bells than usual, the Basilica closed to tourists for two hours during mass, a true feast at the Hotel Giotto and--
Monks and nuns partying. No lie. We went for our passagelato after dinner and, meandering back to the hotel enjoying our pink grapefruit gelato, we followed the sound of rock n roll and voices to a little church. Next to it, down a passageway packed with parked cars, there was a lit courtyard full of people of all ages...dancing. It was a live band, the kind that gets hired for weddings--not very good, but who cares because the party is what it's all about.
The song that drew us there ended. A voice cried out, "Let's twist!"
The nuns (in their long black habits and their starched white wimples) and the monks (in their brown St. Francis robes) got down. They twisted (with vigor).
And did the tango.
Then they formed formed a conga line.
Who'd have thought?