Looking for a winter reset? You’ve probably thought of a spa or a cruise, or perhaps a bit of hygge luxe in a log cabin somewhere scenic and snowy. But what about going back to basics — by which I mean going right back to Medieval basics? What about a spot of prayer and contemplation in a ruined cloister, high on a cliff on the southern coast of Italy under the guidance of a real-life Franciscan friar? If it sounds intriguing, then a stay at the Anantara Convento di Amalfi Grand Hotel near Naples should hit the spot. It could even turn out to be more than a seasonal pick-me-up: it might change your life.
Anyone who has been to a hotel owned by the Thai-based Anantara group will know that a stay with them is all about luxury. But it’s also about place; Anantara are keen on digging deep into the spirit of the location, and extracting something special and unique to each one. In the case of the Convento, the specialness is right there in the history of the building, a former Capuchin monastery built in the 13th century on the site of a cave which had for centuries been a place of quiet contemplation by Christian ascetics.
It is perched on a cliff, high above the town of Amalfi which clusters among the rocks below on southern Italy’s Gulf of Salerno. The Capuchins left in the mid-nineteenth century and the monastery, complete with its cloisters and chapel, has been a hotel since the 1890s.
It used to be accessible only by a exhaustingly steep staircase. Luggage would be carried by donkeys (the Amalfi donkeys are famous for having evolved to be completely fearless on the vertiginous terracing) but there is now a glass lift to whizz guests up to the high verandas of the hotel. But the lift is one of only very few obvious changes. The bones of the old monastery seem to have survived remarkably intact — despite losing much of the oldest part of the building when the surrounding rock was dynamited to make a road tunnel and collapsed.
The vaulted ceilings and long corridors that the Capuchins would have known are still there — although the monks’ cells are now extremely comfortable suites looking straight out into the blue Mediterranean. The chapel is used for weddings and for saying Mass at Christmas when the hotel puts on a Nativity celebration. The old bell which once summoned the monks to prayer is still there and so are their lovely terraced gardens, full of lemons, oranges and olives, herbs, aubergines and tomatoes — all used by today’s chefs.
But the Convento’s added-extra is an experience they call ‘Pace e Bene’ (peace and goodwill), led by a Franciscan friar from nearby Ravello called Brother Marcus, a German who has lived in the Amalfi region for forty years. As well as offering a historical tour of the monastery and the town and cathedral of Amalfi (this is a treat: Brother Marcus knows everyone and is greeted everywhere as an old friend), he leads some guided prayer for hotel guests who want to step back from the hurly burly.
At lunch on the terrace (the staff all know Brother Marcus’s favourite red wine), he is a thoughtful conversationalist, talking about the religious Orders still operating in Italy, explaining the meaning of his habit (he teaches courses for novices on how to tie the Franciscans’ signature five-knotted rope belt — the five knots representing the wounds of Christ). A family from India who had been staying in the hotel recently told him that the experience of meeting him and of his Pace e Bene tours had been the highlight of their holiday.
All over the hotel, there are little corners made for cloistered quietness. A ‘monks’ walk’, a colonnaded path hung with bougainvillea, clings to the side of the cliff. I’m not sure how the hotel can ensure that it remains quiet — especially as there is a bar selling delicious pizzas at the end — but somehow the residents do seem to respect the idea that raucousness would not be approved of and there’s a definite hush.
The ruined cloisters, now open to the elements and jutting out spectacularly over the sea, are also used for the breathwork classes the hotel offers its residents. Breathing slowly and consciously, holding the breath, counting it out again, is both relaxing and reviving. It’s not quite prayer in the traditional sense but it contains elements of mindfulness and meditation that the monks might have recognised.
Every evening at 7pm, the monastic bell that once summoned the monks to prayer, is rung over the terraces. This is designed to encourage hotel residents, by then quite possibly on their second cocktail, to pause for a moment and reflect on their day. Everyone is then given a small glass of Amaro, the basil liqueur made by the Capuchins and still made in the hotel kitchens, while Andrea Boccelli booms out Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah on the loudspeakers.
Although it seems faintly unseemly to go straight from the call to prayer to the call to dinner, the meals at the Convento are themselves a celebration of monastic traditions of growing and making food. Everything is local and seasonal and delicious and much of it from the garden. The chefs make five kinds of traditional local breads — all of them completely different.
A Medieval Capuchin would undoubtedly be somewhat surprised by how his monastery could be repurposed into a 21st-century hotel. What once represented a frugal and austere vocation is now the height of minimalist luxury. But I think he would be warmed by the efforts that the hotel has made to retain something of the old spirit. And the sight of Brother Marcus in his Franciscan habit, unchanged for centuries, is a reassuring reminder that the historical past is not as far away as we think it is.
Deluxe Sea View Rooms at Anantara Convento di Amalfi start from 1300 EURO per night, including breakfast. anantara.com
Lucy Lethbridge is the author of Tourists: How the British Went Abroad to Find Themselves
