A Totally Untouristy Unvacation

It really is possible to get to much of a good thing. I hope you won't cast the evil eye on me if I say that by the time my friend Eberle came from Idaho to pay us a visit, I had had enough of European capitols and other such major tourist sites.

At the Airport metro stop, with an enormous map of Madrid at night in the background

Eberle is a writer, and four years ago converted to Catholicism. I am working on a graphic novel, and spiritually inclined, so, we decided to spend part of her time here on what we dubbed an art and spiritual retreat. Over the course of a month, I investigated the many hundreds of hospederias, or guest quarters, that are run by some of the many thousands of monasteries in Spain.

By the way, monastery, at least in Spain, refers to religious communities of men or women.

The hospederias vary widely. Some offer minimal lodgings for pilgrims who are expected to keep silence and participate in the daily religious services.

An example of a dormitory for pilgrims.

They can cost as little as 9 euros, or about $13 a night.

Others hardly differ from hotels. I liked the setting for this one near the north coast, Monasterio de Nuestra Senora de las Caldas:

And it would have been comfortable:

But having a TV set in the room just did not conform to my idea of an art and spiritual retreat. Nor did having fellow travelers who complained of the monks not providing room service, as I saw in a comment of another hospderia.

The websites for most of these places are hard to navigate, being designed by people who are more interested in contemplative prayer than business. This book was a big help:

On the front is Montserrat, with the most stunning setting of all monasteries in Spain,

But I knew that it would be over run with tourists.

Collapsing buildings with
the Monastery walls and garden beyond

In the end I chose an ancient, and rather modest Trappist monastery in a small village in the desert, 180 kilometers east of Madrid, and far off the beaten path, Santa Maria de Huerta. Like so many villages in Spain, you can see the evidence of the mass migration into the cities that occured in the 60's and 70's in the form of abandonded and collapsing buildings. This is a landscape that Eberle is irrisistably drawn to. Here she is standing by what she likes to imagine will be her future hermitage.

Eberle by her future hermitage

On our third day there I spoke to, Adele, my 14-year-old on the phone:

Adele: So, how do you like it, Mom?

Me: It’s great. We are having a fabulous time.

Adele: Is it pretty?

The Monastery from outside the wall.

I hesitated, knowing how fatigued she has become of even really impressive ancient monuments: Um. Yeah. In an austere, ancient monastery way. And if you like a desert landscape.

Adele: Hmmm. Right. What about the town. Is it a nice town?

the economic crises was doom to the one supermarket

Me: It’s nice and quiet. The population is about 800 and falling. The supermarket just closed last month and there are lots of buildings on the outskirts of the town that are falling into ruin. Which is rather beautiful in its way.

Adele: Uh-huh. Not much shopping potential.

Who else is there?

Me: So far, just me and Eberle. And Brother Felix who brings our meals.

Adele: No one to gossip about! Well, is the weather nice?

Me: It’s freezing. Turns out to be the single
coldest place in Spain.

Adele: Okay, well. The weather in Madrid is perfect. Er… Have you done anything fun?

Me: Fun for me. I’ve been working on my novel, studying Spanish, reading a book on quantum physics, meditating, and going the chapel when the monks sing Gregorian chants.

Wow, Mom. That is a total unvacation.

It was surprisingly cold, and all the more so in within the walls of the monastery. Built in the 13^th and 15^th centuries, the monastery, as was customary, was without heat other than a “warming room” where the monks could go on occasion.

I think that our favorite room  had once been the warming room. I don't imagine a big pot like the one pictured on the left was ever going to make it exactly toasty.

Eberle in our favorite room

But allowances have been made for modern sensibilities, and our rooms were heated.

An ideal room for working, with a nice big desk and no distractions.

 The rules followed by the monks are also a little  more liberal than those set down by Saint Benedict in the 5^th century:

For example, since 1969 they are allowed to talk to eachother, during certain parts of the day, though they still often use a form of sign language developed in the monasteries over the centuries.  

The monks were very kind and friendly but don't mix much with the guests, except Felix, who runs the hospederia. Here is a drawing of him with Bernard, one of the monastery's three cats. Felix is carrying the food that he brought to the dining room of the hospederia from the monks' kitchen. We always had to wait until he had fed "Los Pobres", who we never saw but Felix explained were like hobos traveling through the town, and who knew enough to go by a certain door of the monastery.

Bernard was more like a dog in his devotion to Felix.

Felix was delighted with Bernard’s coloring which matches their robes. The Trappists are a Cistercian order and their most beloved founder is St. Bernard, who, of course, long ago had an entire breed of dogs named after him.

St. Bernard of Menthon in the late 10th century established hospices in the mountain passes of the Alps for the protection of pilgrims who were on their way to Rome. The passes were extremely dangerous and overtime dogs were bred to rescue the haplass victims of avalanches.

For awhile, Eberle and I had the hopederia to ourselves. Then we were joined by 4 Spaniards, a man from Barcelona and two women from Madrid, all on spiritual retreats, and another man from nearby, there to work in the gardens.

Not false friends!

False Friends at the Monastery!

Have you heard the term falsos amigos when studying Spanish? These are words that will lead you astray, thinking they mean the same thing in English.
The monks keep to a rigorous daily schedule of religious services, returning to the chapel 7 times between 5 am and 8pm. Eberle joined them there far more often than the rest of us in the hospederia, and at lunch one day I wanted to explain her absence.

This is where the monks would have held services when there were 2 or 3 hundred living in the monastery.

Today, there are just 18, and they meet in the Chapel

Not knowing how to refer to the services I tried “servicios” which means bathrooms! What was I thinking?!! Imagine the astonishment of my Spanish friends when I told them that she liked the religious bathrooms so much that she planned to stay there through lunch and dinner!

Yet more embarrassing was realizing what I had said to brother Felix one day. Every monastery sells a product made by the monks or nuns. At Santa Maria de Huerta it is 26 varieties of jam, made from locally grown fruits.

Jams made by the Monastery and sold in the store.

We had every variety at our disposal for breakfast and one day I wanted to tell Felix how much I appreciated them. Not knowing the name for jam, I thought I’d try a variation on preservatives and I said (in Spanish) “Thank you for the ‘preservativos’. I like them very much. And there is such a variety!” I did not understand his confused expression until several days later when I found out that preservativos in Spanish means condoms!

Felix was proud of the jams and described the ingredients, where they came from and how they made them. But he also cheerfully admitted that he did not care for them himself and never ate jams. Perhaps there is some Trappist characteristic here, as I brought back an excellent Trappist wine from the monastery store, and Matt discovered, in researching it, that the trappist monk most responsible for its production, does not drink wine. Here is a link to the story:
http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2003/07/16/1058035071253.html

Not drinking wine would not be a Trappist characteristic. The rules of St. Benedict stipulate that they are each allowed a half pint of wine a day. In keeping with modern Spanish traditions, the monastery always supplied a generous amount of wine, both at lunch and dinner, both for the "pobres" as well as the guests. 

So, I can truthfully say that there was plenty of joy, mirth and wine during our untouristy unvacation. If you are wanting to leave the beaten path, I highly recommend an hospederia.