I am currently staying at the Convento Santa Maria del Giglio, not far from Lake Bolsena in Viterbo. Let us get one thing straight straight away: this is not a B&B, nor is it a sacred place—at least, not since the friars departed because it was too small for their order.
Following the expropriation of 1870, the property was repurchased from the State and returned to the Provincia Romana dei Frati Minori. Since 1997, it has been managed by the cultural association “Punti di vista” (Points of View), a name that doubles as a statement of intent.
Sabrina and Federica Aguiari, the President and Vice President of the association, work on the front line alongside a handful of other members. They do not merely strive to make ends meet; they coordinate events that respect the true spirit of the place.
Cultural exchanges, seminars, book launches, partnerships with other virtuous initiatives (such as FOQUS in Naples's Quartieri Spagnoli), solidarity projects, and activities with international students are all embraced in this space. On the side, it also welcomes travellers and pilgrims, particularly in August when there is a greater coming and going.
Reading through the journal left in the hallway of the Convento, I was both intrigued and deeply moved by the impressions written by those who arrived before me.
Whether by choice or by chance, everyone who has passed through here has left personal stories, vibrant thoughts, sincere reflections, and a wonderful energy on paper.
Since I forgot to write mine down, I am making amends right here, hoping it might reach just as many people.
That this is not a B&B is clear. Do not choose it simply because the rate is nominal; you would only be disappointed (€32 per night per person, which includes the membership fee and local tourist taxes).
“Pace e bene” (Peace and good), carved into the wood at the entrance before you step into the frescoed cloister—sums up precisely what awaits you.
The guest rooms, located on the upper floors and accessed by stairs, accommodate around 25 people, if memory serves. They are clean, essential, and offer that exact minimalist quality I need to make room for everything else.
Towels are available on a shelf opposite the two shared bathrooms, though whenever I have been travelling for a while, I always keep my own in my suitcase.
Every room is different and furnished, as best as possible, by the association members themselves.
In mine, there is a washbasin, a writing desk, and two confessionals flanking the bed. Inside the wardrobe, I find a sachet of lavender and a woollen blanket for colder periods, though the Convento is usually closed in winter due to the lack of heating.
I decide to sleep with the window wide open and am refreshed by an unexpected rainstorm. A few mosquitoes wander in, but they never bite me anyway.
I want to wake up with the sunrise and the sounds of the countryside. To my surprise, my alarm clock comes in the form of sheep and goats that have leapt over the stone walls of the neighbouring olive groves to graze on the dry grass.
It is perhaps half past five.
I head downstairs immediately to greet them. I watch them and smile to myself: they amuse me as they stare back, only to suddenly bound about, leaving tiny droppings everywhere.
The garden offers generous spaces: an outdoor kitchen, deckchairs, and a few children's toys. Certainly, much more could be done, but a tremendous amount is already achieved when you consider that, with exceedingly tight finances—compounded by Covid, which spared no one—they must cover property taxes (IMU) and running costs.
Federica, who also oversees the accounting, has been involved with the Convento since she was 16. Like everyone else, she is a volunteer; the rest of the week, when she is not on leave, she works her regular job in Rome.
I met her welcoming me the day before, and the following day I found her cleaning the rooms. It is truly admirable, especially since so many years have not dampened the community spirit to which she is so deeply attached.
Sabrina, the president, is a powerhouse of ideas. She loves animals (the “crow’s nest” sign fixed in front of the long-disused pizza oven is her doing) and sustainable projects. I had gathered as much even before meeting her, thanks to the small display she set up near the entrance featuring fervida and homemade soaps available to buy.
The morning started early, so I decide to spend the next hour in the library.
I am completely alone.
There are countless books; I browse through one detailing the Via Francigena while typing away on my laptop. The sage-green bookcases, swooping gracefully along the vaulted walls, look tailor-made for the Convento, yet they were salvaged from a friend’s closed shop in Emilia-Romagna.
In a world that constantly demands you build momentum in everything you do, where everything is bought and sold, discovering a place like this has made all the difference for me.
What can I wish for a project, a place, and a group of people as special as this? To find volunteers interested in restoring certain areas of the Convento or capable of putting back online the website that was hacked (the current one looks straight out of the 1980s, they know it well), in exchange for hospitality. And why not, certainly to secure more funding, which could give the entire operation a real boost.
Over the years, they have tried everything, but what they need now is continuity.
In the centre of Bolsena-a five-minute drive from the Convento and easily reachable on foot-daily life continues to move at a gentle pace. The main street, the corso, is only truly lively at specific times of the day, and I imagine during peak tourist seasons.
You can take a stroll and sit on the benches along the lakefront, but if you have a specific spot in mind for a break, do check the opening hours and book ahead, as flexibility is scarce here (here are my favourite stops: pasticceria Maritè for breakfast, Retrogusto for a platter of local cold cuts and cheeses, and the merceria Spizzichino haberdashery to find everything you cannot find anywhere else).
It is time to leave the Convento. But yes, I will return. I will certainly return!