Tables set along the hall, and a monk silently shows us our places. Standing, we await the chanters, who enter together, singing the hymn of the saint whose feast is being celebrated that day. We sit and start to eat while, in a soothing voice, a monk reads the biography of the saint. Most eat silently and listen, and the simple words from another era in the narrative have a warm aftertaste of burnt wood, which bonds with the meal. I am annoyed that a few visitors sitting a little further down are talking amongst themselves. When you are introduced to silence, it is an opportunity to analyse how much noise you usually carry around. The monk Moyses writes, ‘Silence and quiet are two of the precious rocks of Mt Athos. In a world and an era of a great deal of noise and chatter, silence terrifies those who want to meet with everyone else except themselves'.
