Sleep in the monastery, listen to the prayers of the monks and enjoy breathtaking views at sunset.
That first solo trip was full of so many firsts — watching a lunar eclipse amid a million shooting stars,
sleeping in a monastery, stopping cars for a ride with my thumb, riding a makeshift ropeway from one mountain to another, chugging chhang (a local brew) late in the night (Read: Spiti: 10 Experiences That'll Take Your Breath Away).
Not exact matches
The city was torn into moonlit strips — the dour Castle, the High Kirk where Reform preachers stoked hearts and minds, the dark maw of the Grassmarket and the tenements sliding down the long spine to the palace where Jamie Saxt (but six years our elder)
slept uneasily amidst the ghosts of his many murdered regents, his fantasies of sorcerers... On Inchcombe island the abandoned
monastery was a black ship with its cargo of souls, going nowhere...
In the nearby Auld Kirk of North Berwick the witch trials were proceeding by that most reliable proof: evidence under torture.
What??? They gave penances just for being found chatting after dark
in a totally innocent way, because
monasteries were about «spiritual athletic training» (East) or «spiritual soldiering» (West), and either way you were supposed to be
sleeping in your own cot after lights out.
Yup, it's a top down bash - a-masher with dashes of Hotline Miami, a smidgen of
Sleeping Dogs
in the contextual environmental kills (lots of fans and blades
in this
monastery), and uh, like, loads of blood.
That's all I've got time to get to today —
sleep in a rickety bed (the Garrison Institute grounds are a charming converted
monastery) beckons.
I've
slept peacefully
in a castle and a
monastery and to the roar of crashing waves from oceans below my window
in creaky old inns.