Italian Easter

Sarah's family doesn't go to church, so I got walking directions from them the night before and got up on my own because I couldn't pass up Easter in Italy. It was a beautiful morning, just that temperature where walking around makes you comfortable. I walked down the hill a little to the church they described, along some quiet houses and over a bridge, but no one was stirring at the church even. After some serious contemplation of the sign outside, I managed to figure out their service wasn't until 11, too late for me since lunch was at 12.
So, I decided to try and find the church we had passed in the car the day before, up the hill from Sarah's house. The road is very picturesque, windy, and steep, and somewhere in between breathing and making sure I didn't get hit by a car around a blind corner, I got a little lost. I wasn't going the same way we had in the car anymore...so I didn't know where the church was.
And suddenly, up the hill, I heard bells, ringing loudly and joyously for Easter morn. Apparently on Easter the bells ring actual songs, for 15-20 minutes at a time, and I was able to walk up the hill and actually follow the sound of the bells to church. It felt sort of romantic, using the bells for one of their original functions. I did find the church, a tiny Catholic one perched on the hillside, and experienced my first mass in Italian. Between knowing French, and the general gist of the message anyway, I was able to follow along, and when I managed to retrace my steps successfully and get back to Sarah's house on time for lunch, considered my Easter morning a success.