The Accidental Retreat

When traveling one never knows when adventure is going to strike. Adventure takes all forms: terror, suspense, drama, and often humor.

On a recent whirlwind self-guided tour from Barcelona, Spain to Ventimiglia, Italy we had a most unexpected adventure, in an ancient abbey.

We were spending three of the days of the trip in the hills of Provence, France. While there I hoped to make a quick visit to the Senanque Abbey. It may be the most photographed spot in Provence, usually with lavender fields in full bloom in the foreground. It was founded in 1148.

It turned out that we had a small opening in our itinerary so we made the trek and followed the signs to the abbey. We pulled into the lot and as expected it was aesthetically beautiful, instantly calming. As is often the case with our February travels the site was lightly attended, virtually empty.

After a quick stroll of the grounds we headed into the book shop. As I was paying for some souvenirs I asked if we could see the church. I was told it was closed because the monks were celebrating mass in the chapel. I asked if the service was open to the public and indeed it was but we had two minutes to get inside and being late wasn't recommended.

I briefed the kids to take their usual good church behavior to a new higher level and keep their eyes and ears open because they were about to see and hear a service unlike any they had witnessed before.

The chapel was beyond ancient. It was little more than a massive stone room. There were about ten monks in habits and leather sandals and about twenty attendees of the mass, including us. Our kids were by far the youngest. My wife and I were next youngest by a good fifteen years or so.

The  mass was beautiful and haunting. The methodical rhythmic chanting of the monks reverberated throughout the ancient chapel.

In all the mass was about forty minutes which I am sure sapped all the reserve out of my eleven year old's maturity patience tank but they all held up and made me proud. I hope and think they will remember the service for the rest of their lives.

That wasn't the adventure I mentioned earlier. That came next.

After the mass the monks filed out first and vanished in that special way that only monks in a thousand year old French abbey can.

Then the rest of us began to file out, front to back. We were last in and now we were the last out. Rather than go out the door we came in we simply followed the other mass attendees, our fellow parishioners for the day. I figured we might get to see some priceless art or a secret enclosed garden by using a different way out.

It didn't work out that way. It wasn't as if we were going out, it was as though we were going in. Deeper and deeper we seemed to be going. Too late to turn back, we just continued upstairs, down corridors, and through archways.

There were multiple posted warnings to maintain silence so we did. No one said a word. Even if we did speak to the leaders of the pack no one would understand us.

Finally we hit the end of the road. We all ended up in a long corridor and the procession stopped. All the other people started turning keys in locked doors.  The opened doors revealed stark spartan accommodations, not quite a cell but certainly not the Ritz. We were amongst a group of French pilgrims on a retreat and we were trapped in the abbey.

We started to draw looks from the pilgrims. Some puzzled, some maybe even a little annoyed. One kindly woman looked at us knowing we were five foreign fish incredibly out of familiar waters. As softly as I could I whispered the only word I felt could help, "Sortie" (exit).

She smiled with warm eyes as some of the other pilgrims opted for daggers and frowns. She swiftly led us to the nearest door which was very far away from the chapel and our car. The fresh Provence air felt nice in our lungs and the sun felt warm on our shoulders.

I don't know if laughter counts as a violation of the silence rule at the Abbey. If it is, I beg forgiveness to the monks on behalf of my whole family. Once we were outside it was the only thing we could do. It wasn't loud or disrespectful. It was just uncontainable.  The episode was alternately a moving reverent experience followed by a comically absurd experience. I am sorry it happened and glad it happened, if that can make sense.

Either way, our virtual paralysis as we stared at those stark dorm rooms in the ancient Senanque Abbey will be as vivid a memory as any from all of our travels, however unintended.