we took the bus home that night, and since we have no previous experience with buses and don't speak any italian we accidentally got off one stop too late, at the end of the bus route. it was midnight or so, the station was deserted, and the streets were poorly lit and eerily silent. we consulted our map and headed in the direction of our hotel. there wasn't a soul around - i guess the vatican city area isn't exactly a hopping place after dark. suddenly we heard quiet somber music coming from somewhere. as it got louder {closer} we looked to our left and there she was: the tiniest, creepiest, oldest lady in the history of rome. carrying a boom box. playing church music {the haunting choral variety that is really only just haunting in the middle of the night when you're all alone on the streets in a foreign city}. she stared into our souls and maybe tried to eat them. we turned quickly and made a hasty retreat.
thankfully we made it safely to our hotel room. we were confused, maybe a little terrified, definitely exhausted. we opened the balcony doors in our stuffy hotel room and went to bed.
{then}
maybe an hour and a half or so after falling asleep, i was awakened by the sweet and solemn sounds of an ancient church choir. it started quietly and softly and got gradually louder and closer, presumably as the crazy boom box lady made her way up our street. at some point the singing paused and was replaced by a deep male voice chanting in some unknown language. i was barely breathing i was so freaked out. i looked over at A: fast asleep {jerk!}. i lay there praying that the crazy boom box lady didn't scale the walls of our hotel and eat us alive. finally the music and chanting faded into the night. and then i tried {unsuccessfully} to fall asleep.
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