A600AASS Day 14 - Fonfría to Samos
27.10.22
20 Km
The cross shimmered in burnished golds, floating in mid air, suspended from fine wires. 8 windows encircled the dome that soared above me, casting a gentle light across the alter and the depiction of Christ on the cross that towered behind it. The air felt rich, dark, and quietly powerful.
We were at the end of a tour of a monastery, and our final stop in the chapel included an invitation to stay for Mass at 7:30 PM. I stood there, dumbfounded at the scale and cost of this offering to a god in a place that, after a day of hiking the dirt tracks that follow Sarria River, felt like it was in the middle of nowhere.
We needn’t have ended up here. Most people head straight to Sarria. But messages from folk ahead of us told of another cacophonous city, and last night’s host recommended we see the monastery, so we took the less-travelled path to Samos.
Some shitty news from Amsterdam cast a pall on the afternoon, and I’d hoped that a visit to a sacred space might ease my angst.
The Benedictine monk who showed us around spoke no English, and would allow no photos nor videos. Through an Italian woman that spoke Spanish, he told me about his love of the Bee Gees. “They’re Australian, right?” came his translated question.
Vast corridors, polished marble on the floors and beautiful oak beams above, encircled an enormous courtyard. Fruit trees, flowers, and hedges filled the view out the windows, while the walls were adorned with impressive murals painted throughout the 20th century. The scene was at once so opulent and so austere that I could easily imagine it being the home of a dictator or the CEO of a multinational.
In the rich, dark, quietly powerful air of the chapel, I considered the impending Mass. Would it bring me solace? The Monks began to prepare and the lights came on. What had been a place of quietude was now a riot of rococo colour. Dark umbers became raging reds. Once-burnished golds clanged like a bashed cymbal. Christ’s benign presence on the cross was now rendered in grim and gory detail.
Some things are best done with the lights off, I thought, and quietly walked out.