Meditative Magic

By Joel Stratte-McClure

Mention of a vacation on the French Riviera usually evokes visions of the Casino in Monte Carlo, topless celebrities in St.-Tropez or glamorous hotels like the Negresco in Nice. But I like to get away from all that and head for a tranquil monastery on an island in the Mediterranean Sea a mile off the coast of Cannes. The monks at the Abbaye de Lerins on Ile St.-Honorat have, I admit, always been my kind of guys. Early to bed and early to rise, they lead simple, structured and disciplined lives. Silent and humble, they meditate and chant and are ecology-minded. While guests are encouraged to clean up after themselves and help with the chores, they can just sleep, meditate, walk, read and enjoy the contemplative ambiance.

Easily reached by regular ferry service, Ile St.-Honorat has sweet-smelling eucalyptus groves, sprinkled with lavender, thyme and rosemary, and generally rocky beaches. There are no cars, just nicely shaded paths. A quaint and spacious gift shop sells CDs of the monks' exquisite chanting as well as jars of their homemade honey and bottles of their wine.

Walk the island's one-mile circumference, and you'll notice a number of FOR MONKS ONLY signs. When I checked in for the first time, Brother Jean-Marie, the frere hotelier, observed that he seldom returned to "the other side," which is what he called Cannes and the material world beyond. On my arrival, we spent an hour discussing things like Aristotle, St. Augustine, the human condition and contemporary affairs before he reminded me of the house "rules." "Do not talk to monks, go into the monks' living quarters or chat with other guests inside the abbey grounds," he said. "Otherwise, pax vobiscum."

Life has not always been tranquil at the monastery, founded at the end of the 4th century by St. Honorat. Five hundred monks were massacred in 782 by Saracen pirates, who frequently conducted raids until a fortified monastery jutting out into the sea was built in 1073. Both island and monastery changed hands numerous times before they were turned over to the current order of Cistercian monks in 1869.

The present-day abbey consists of hewn-stone buildings with red tiled roofs, pointed arches and stained-glass windows, well-tended gardens, courtyards and sprawling palm trees. There are modern touches: a fax in the office, solar panels in the garden. The wing in which visitors stay was renovated within the decade.

The 40 rooms in the three-story "hotel" wing are identical--clean, simple and separate from the monks' cells. There is no telephone, carpet or television set, just a small wooden cross above a pine writing desk, a washbasin, a curtained closet, a small bed and a reading light. The bathrooms are at the end of the corridors. Guests are asked to keep their rooms and the bathrooms clean and to help with the dishes after each meal.

The monks' day begins at 4 a.m., when bells peal to announce the Vigils, the first of eight daily communal prayer, meditation, Mass and choir sessions--each bathed in tranquil chanting. Besides leading a contemplative life of reading and prayer, the monks cultivate lavender, oranges, wine and bees. They also make and sell a liqueur called Lerina, which some pilgrims use to heighten the spiritual experience.

After my latest visit, I recalled St. Paul's words that the monastic life aims to form, prepare and offer to God souls seeking supreme wisdom. Acknowledging that I have a way to go, I booked another room, for New Year's Eve in 1999. Brother Jean-Marie assured me that he would pass on my request to his successor, Brother Gilles.

--By Joel Stratte-McClure