A retreat with Catholic Nuns in Norfolk

21.07.2023 - 08:17 / roughguides.com

There may be no better way to unwind than staying at the Quidenham Carmelite Monastery: a convent of Catholic nuns who have pledged a vow of silence. In the midst of the stress of a university dissertation, Lottie Gross escaped from the world and learned what it’s like to live the quiet life – literally.

The only sounds as I enter the chapel are that of my boots, clip-clopping along the stone floor and up the stairs to sit opposite the habit-clad women who have welcomed me to their convent for the night. I’m late for mass and a little embarrassed but no one else seems to care. In fact silence descends once I'm seated.

The nuns at the Quidenham Carmelite Monastery, in the depths of the Norfolk countryside, have dedicated themselves to a life of silent prayer. They don’t speak, except during short work periods, recreation time in the evening and during mass, when they sing and pray aloud. Their hymns sound sweet as twenty-odd women – ages ranging from 33 to upwards of 80 – sing in harmony, and their prayer is deep and heartfelt.

Set in an old walled community in the tiny village of Quidenham, next to a children’s hospice and a small farm, the surroundings are as quiet as the nuns that live here. Only birds can be heard singing during the day, and the occasional visitor to the hospice or chapel come and go with quiet respect. The silence is peaceful, serene and tranquil – it’s not as eerie as I expected. Not even at night.

I had arrived in glorious sunshine that morning, my car tyres on the gravel drive probably the first man-made noise to break the day’s stillness, to be greeted by the Guest Sister, who is allowed to talk to visitors for the purposes of hospitality. I was shown around the chapel, a humble but modern place of worship with clean concrete pillars, beautiful stained glass windows depicting the Rule of Carmel, and a gated off section for the nuns to occupy at mass. I was given strict instructions not to cross the wall between public ground and that of the very private cloisters – these are sacred areas where the nuns live and the public is not allowed.

My home for the night was a small bungalow next door to the chapel, and in the tiny kitchen I found everything provided – even a loaf of freshly baked bread from the nuns. Later that evening after mass, Sister Shelagh and Sister Stephanie broke their vows of silence in a rare exchange on what it’s like to live in utter quietude.

Photo: Lottie Gross

“I had done various different jobs before I entered,” explained Sister Shelagh. “Whatever I did never felt as though it was quite enough. I was constantly searching for more.” Her soft and enchanting voice had me in a trance as she talked about her past life as a married woman with a career.

“In the end I