On the Gulf of Salerno, across the water from the ancient Greek settlement of Paestum and the pastures of water buffalo that make the region’s famous mozzarella, is an extraordinary building clinging (quite literally) to a cliff face.
The former Capuchin monastery which overlooks the bright colours of the town of Amalfi below is the Hotel Convento, but it makes a selling point of its religious past. Anyone with deep pockets in search of a holiday in which fabulous, if fashionably understated, luxury comes with the in-house option of a spot of soul-searching should head to the Convento di Amalfi Grand Hotel: it’s a bit like carbon-offsetting but with prayers and music.
The monastery was built by the Cistercians around 1212 and after two centuries was taken over by the Capuchins who, on and off, stayed there till the mid-19th century. For a brief period it was a nautical college specialising in rigging-making; in the 1890s it became a family home. The vaulted ceilings, shining tiles and long corridors of the monastery are still there but the monastic cells are now cocoons of comfort: every room looks out at a wedge of azure Mediterranean; the mini-bar is full of treats and the fruit bowl is always full.
It was purchased two years ago by the Thai-based Anantara chain; their restoration of the site faced the problems that had faced the original 13th-century builders. Scaling the cliff is no mean feat. In the 2020s, helicopters were used to ferry in the larger furniture, including a pizza oven, but not all that long ago it was donkeys or human legwork.
The 700 steps that once took visitors up to the main building are still there but there is also – thankfully – a glass lift. Most of the action takes place five storeys up, where the dining rooms and the terraces of the hotel open onto a glorious view of the sea and of Amalfi itself, clinging like barnacles to the rocks below.
In 1899 a road tunnel collapsed, taking the oldest part of the monastery with it. But the atmospheric, part-ruined cloisters are still here, open to the salty elements, and there is a fragment of fresco showing St Peter leaping onto the Sea of Galilee. The 17th-century chapel is untouched – the vestments on the hook are a sign that Masses are celebrated there, and it is popular for weddings. Its floor is decorated with garlands of flowers in the majolica tiles typical of the region (the cupola of the town’s cathedral is covered in yellow and green tiles, which wink in the sunlight). The chapel has one of those wild and enchanting cribs for which Naples is famous – it shows the life of Christ from Nativity to Crucifixion, teeming with animals, children and busy working people.
The Anantara chain has a policy of giving its customers more than just a deluxe experience somewhere gorgeous. There’s a spa, of course (the citrus facial is a dream), but Anantara also encourage guests to give some thought to deeper things. In Amalfi they have taken this further than usual, and have their own in-house friar. Opt for the “<em>pace e bene</em>” courses and Brother Marcus will take you on a historical tour of the old building and (accompanied by the delightful chef ) a culinary tour of the monks’ terraced gardens followed by some prayerful moments among the bougainvillea – although the literature is careful to describe this as “mindfulness and meditation”.
A Franciscan from Germany, Br Marcus has been in and around Amalfi since he was a novice in the early 1980s. Now he lives in Ravello, 20 minutes away, in a medieval friary where he is one of only two remaining friars. The other is aged over 90. So his employment in the hotel (the money he is paid goes directly to his order) is not only a break but a mission – a way of encouraging people who might have no experience of religion to, as he puts it, “live a little like in a monastery”. Br Marcus, in his sandals and habit, is so integral a part of hotel life at the Convento that he is greeted everywhere as an old friend; the dining room staff know which red wine he prefers.
The lovely cloistered path that winds along the terracing is known as the “monks’ walk” and is a place where residents are encouraged to stroll and take quiet moments. In the evening, it is a hotel “tradition” to ring the old bell at sunset. The tradition is only two years old, it is true, but it harks back to a far older one when the Capuchins rang the bell to mark the end of a day’s work and the beginning of the “friendly communion” of silence.
Today the bell is followed by the mellifluous tones of Andrea Bocelli, accompanied by a delicious cocktail on the terrace, “served in the monks’ ancient jars” – in reality a tumbler, but it’s a nice thought. It generally contains amaro, the basil liqueur that was once made by the monks; it has a slightly medicinal taste and in the avocado cocktail – a hotel speciality – it is delicious.
Br Marcus will also take you on a tour of Amalfi – and it would be difficult to imagine a better guide. You can take the glass lift down to sea level but it’s much more fun to zigzag down the steps, terraces and alleyways from the hotel to the old town. Br Marcus pointed out that the streets of Amalfi were an inspiration to the German artist Escher, with its mind-bending optical illusions and never-ending stairways.
The town was once built on rivers and bridges, but they are now covered by a mass of tightly-jammed squares and streets. The 10th-century cathedral is a small wonder of Romanesque, Moorish, Renaissance and Baroque – sitting atop a vertigo-inducing flight of steps (disabled access is a challenge along this stretch of coast). St Andrew’s relics, brought to Amalfi from Constantinople during the Fourth Crusade, are here in a splendid reliquary showing the fisherman apostle holding his catch.
You might want to do a bit of ceramic painting, or explore the ancient (and still operating) papermill, or have a local limoncello. But if you were minded to come to Amalfi for Christmas you could have something even better: you could catch Br Marcus at the Convento’s annual Nativity celebrations, where he’ll be saying Mass.
It’s monasticism <em>luxe</em> – a contradiction in terms – but it’s also a hint of something else, something old, something missing. And if the hotel’s guests are moved to stop and think on their way to the pool, then that can’t be a bad thing.
<em>Photo collage: Br Marcus in the cloister / <em>the Ristorante Dei Cappuccini terrace.</em>(Images courtesy Convento di Amalfi Grand Hotel.)</em>
<em>Lucy Lethbridge is the author of 'Tourists: How the British Went Abroad to Find Themselves' (Bloomsbury, £10.99). More details on Hotel Convento</em> <em><a href="http://anantara.com/en/convento-di-amalfi"><mark style="background-color:rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)" class="has-inline-color has-vivid-cyan-blue-color">here</mark></a>. </em>
<strong><strong>This article appears in the special December/January 2024 double edition of the <em>Catholic Herald</em>. To subscribe to our award-winning, thought-provoking magazine and have independent, high-calibre, counter-cultural and orthodox Catholic journalism delivered to your door anywhere in the world click <a href="https://catholicherald.co.uk/subscribe/?swcfpc=1"><mark style="background-color:rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)" class="has-inline-color has-vivid-cyan-blue-color">HERE</mark></a></strong></strong>.
