The 400 Year Old Hospital and the Crazy True Story of Canada's Most Notorious Hotel Thief

I got more than I bargained for when I checked into Quebec City's most unique accommodations.

​My trip to Quebec was part of a press trip.  This post may contain affiliate links, which means that if you make a purchase, we may get a small commission.

In the spring of 1639, three young nuns set sail from France, each carrying a hidden key in her habit. Upon landing in the new settlement of Quebec City, they would unseal three sturdy locks on a large wooden trunk that safeguarded all their worldly goods. It also contained something invaluable—a contract to found a monastery hospital, the first in North America outside Mexico.

Little did they realize that one of their future guests* would become Canada’s most notorious** hotel thief, taking three round canisters with them in their luggage after their visit.



*Me. This story is about me.





** The dozen or so people who know this story won’t stop teasing me about it.

The hospital those three young women founded remains a centre for health and wellness in Quebec City but with a modern twist. Now called Le Monastère des Augustine, its building and mandate have been transformed, and it is now a non-profit hotel devoted to culture, wellness, and self-care. It’s not everyday you stumble across a building that changed the course of healthcare on an entire continent that’s also a hotel, but that’s exactly what Le Monastère is, continuing in its mission to provide hospitality and care. 

Like nearly all religious orders, Le Monastère’s numbers have dwindled significantly. In 2015, after many years of consideration, architectural innovation, and community consultations, the brave and bold choice was taken to share the building and offer accommodations for travellers who were searching for something a little bit different. Today, visitors are welcomed to visit Le Monastère for yoga classes, spa treatments, meals and, should they wish, stay overnight in one of the cozy rooms that would have been the nun’s accommodations. It’s a peaceful, inspiring place to visit. In 1639, those young women did the impossible. They may have been nuns, but in reality, their jobs called for them to be nurses, doctors, pharmacists, social workers, engineers, cooks, and housekeepers, and they did it all.

Sadly, apparently hotel security wasn’t among the skills they passed down.

When I arrived in Quebec City via train for a media press trip, I certainly didn’t anticipate transforming from blogger to bandit, a mild-mannered travel writer one moment and a brazen burglar the next. My trip was pleasant, my check in was smooth, and a delightful surprise awaited me when I entered my room. On the little table of my simple, homey room sat three gifts.

• There was a tiny canister of herbal tea, a fitting tribute to the wellness mandate that now drives Le Monastère’s programming.
• There was a lovely scented candle, a gift from the tourism board.
• And there was something I hadn’t seen before. A small cardboard box contained a circular device. A quick scan of the box showed that it was a kind of speaker programmed with meditative sounds. I’ve since learned that it’s called a Morphée, and it’s a screen-free device which contains 210 guided sessions of meditation and sophrology.

Such generous, considerate gifts are a blessing in my line of work. Tourism boards, being mindful of the fact that visiting media are increasingly concerned with sustainability, are cognizant of providing welcoming gifts that, well, are welcome. Cheap knick knacks are out and more locally focused, memorable items are in. A wellness-themed sound device seemed appropriate, given that I was on a wellness-themed trip. What could it be but a gift? I didn’t pause to give this situation more thought. Having arrived by train, I was late for the group tour of Le Monastère’s museum, so I hastily prepared myself and scurried to meet my group.

Two days later, I was happily tucked into the second hotel of the itinerary, and the following message popped up from my colleague at the tourism board...

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

I bet you know where this is going, don’t you? That sound device wasn’t a gift for me. It wasn’t a gift for anyone! It’s an expensive item, an item so valuable that they’re not even placed in all of Le Monastère’s rooms! What I had in my room was a loaner, something put in my room so I, as a visiting media member, could fully experience all Le Monastère has to offer! But now, in their eyes, I was no longer media. I was a mugger! A dirty, rotten scoundrel who pilfered a pricey amenity and destroyed the 400-year-old honour of the founders. At least, I’m sure that is what I was for the three seconds, or so it took for someone to realize that, owing to my late arrival by train, I had missed the welcome orientation which explained, among other things, that the sound devices were decidedly NOT allowed to come home with us.

There are many walks of shame a person can take in their life, but I never envisioned that mine would take me through old Quebec City’s storied cobblestones, carrying contraband. Was a scarlet “K” on my back declaring me a kleptomaniac? I thought of Michael Finkel’s non-fiction book, The Art Thief. Apparently, all you need to be a prolific art thief is a nonchalant presence and the knowledge that museums are much more interested in investing their limited funds into acquiring more treasures, not installing state-of-the-art security systems. Well, I had managed to one-up Stéphane Breitwieser, the feckless lifter portrayed in Finkel’s book. What you really need to steal from a historic building filled with priceless treasures is complete unawareness that you took anything at all.

While I promptly returned the larcened sound device, my bad deeds have not gone unpunished. Everyone who has heard the story has rightly mocked me mercilessly ever since. I grab a water bottle from a conference refreshment station and hear, “You sure you’re allowed to take that?” I check out of a two-star motel, and people eye my suitcase. “Got anything in there you shouldn’t have?” I munch on an apple as we head out to the van, and someone says, “You just gonna take that with you?”

Six months after this trip, I was halfway around the world in Hong Kong. I excitedly told my husband that there were chocolates in my hotel room. He was like, “Are you sure they’re for you?"

To the best of my knowledge, the story of the writer-turned-robber hasn’t reached Le Monastère’s remaining sisters-in-residence. Yes, there are still some nuns who call Le Monastère home. While nuns can have a reputation for strictness, I’d like to think Le Monastère’s walls have been seasoned with a little speck of rebellion. It’s hard to imagine those three sisters who arrived in 1639 didn’t have a little bit of adventure in their souls. Perhaps that’s been passed down through the years. After all, I’m told that one of Le Monastère’s current sisters-in-residence arrived on a motorcycle when they first joined the order. Perhaps my unintended shenanigans fit Le Monastère’s spirit more than I imagined – and that’s something well worth meditating on!

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