Get Thee to a Nunnery: Letters from Italy, Part II

This is shocking for Rome, but then again it’s not run by Italians. The restaurants in the neighborhood well make up for Santa Sofia’s culinary flaw—there’s a great caffe steps away and loads of reasonably priced trattorias nearby where Roman classics are served. I fill up on cacio e pepe at Taverna Romana, getting home in time for my midnight curfew.

The morning church bells ring endlessly, not at all corresponding to the 7 a.m. hour. I run down to the Santa Maria ai Monti church to join the nuns. It’s been reconfigured to Orthodox style with an ornate stained glass screen at the altar. A burly red-haired priest presides, making the Sign of the Cross the opposite way from the Roman Catholic tradition (from right to left)—which gives me a weird brain sensation, like patting my head and rubbing my stomach. A bite of thick bread is dipped in wine and offered to me on a golden spoon for communion.

As the service ends, the nuns, who’ve been so quiet, raise their voices in a perfectly harmonized holy chant. It reverberates against the stone walls, sending a calm sensation through me.

Again, I feel that comfort that came seamlessly with these convent stays. It goes down deep, connecting me with the fascination nuns gave me as a kid and the rich tradition of Catholicism.

I’m not renouncing star-star luxury, but the list of guest convents all over Italy is a long and enticing one. After this blissful initiation, I can see myself mixing things up and checking into Holy Digs regularly.

Note: A detailed list of Rome convents can be found on the American Church in Rome’s Santa Susanna Web site.

Get Thee to a Nunnery: Letters from Italy, Part I

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