Ruth Campbell talks to a group of jolly nuns about the qualities of North Yorkshire life which have persuaded them to come north.

IT is not often you see four nuns dressed in hard hats and wellingtons with fluorescent yellow builders’ waistcoats over their habits.

But Sisters Scholastica, Josephine, Benedicta and Julian have a job to do. And even they have to comply with the laws of health and safety.

The Worcestershire-based sisters arrived in North Yorkshire, armed with cameras and tape measures, to check on the progress of their new home, the first monastery to be built in England for about 500 years.

After many months scouring the country for somewhere suitably beautiful, peaceful and quiet, the Benedictine community of nuns found a perfect site, set on a glorious hilltop in the middle of the North York Moors National Park, overlooking the ruins of Byland Abbey, at Wass.

When they bought it without planning permission, they were told they were mad.

Miraculously, their plans, for an environmentally sensitive monastery and retreat house with solar panels on the roof, were approved within a matter of months.

But they still haven’t sold their current home, Stanbrook Abbey, which they are due to leave in May. And it is its £6m asking price that will provide the much-needed funds needed to complete the new project.

Many people would buckle under the stress. But the nuns refuse to let a little matter like this get them down: “It would be wonderful if we could sell it before we move.

The Lord has looked after us in so many different ways so far. We have just got to trust,” says Sister Benedicta.

Then, glancing heavenwards, she adds, laughing: “He is taking us to the wire with this.”

This is a rare trip out for the four nuns. As members of an enclosed order, they don’t leave their community unless it is essential. But they are open and funny and full of laughter, with minds that are far from enclosed.

They even have a cat called Britney, after the singer. She may have been named by the previous owner, but the nuns are not so out of touch they don’t know who Miss Spears is. They talk about their fascinating drive through the centre of York on their way here, when they were particularly taken with a stunning red dress they saw in one shop window.

“It was a gorgeous dress,” says Sister Scholastica. “If you wear black and white, colours mean a lot more.”

“We are very human, we are women,” adds Sister Benedicta. “I miss shopping. I adore bags and shoes.”

They were also going along to talk to the local Women’s Institute about their work, something they don’t normally do. But they are aware there is a lot of local interest in why they are coming here.

One of the main attractions of this part of the country is the peace and quiet. The area around their current abbey has become too built up, says Sister Benedicta: “When I go to the dentist in Worcester, the noise and people and cars and engines all hit you.”

Sister Josephine adds: “A lot of new houses are being built and the roads are very busy.

You open the window and hear the traffic on the M5.”

“Here, there is such a wonderful silence, absolutely tangible,” says Sister Julian.

They put their old 19th century, five-storey abbey, set in 21 acres in the Malvern Hills, up for sale in 2002 because the 25 nuns in the order couldn’t afford to run it and needed to downsize. Maintenance and overhead costs were crippling, with the manual labour involved in running such a big building overtaking the monasticism at the heart of their community.

The oil heating bill comes to £7,000 a month, explains Sister Benedicta, 55, who joined the convent when she was 21.

“And then there’s the upkeep. When a tile comes off the roof, we need to put up scaffolding. Just keeping on top of things is becoming more and more difficult.”

As the nuns point out, they’re not museum curators.

“There is so much heat wasted. Heaven knows what our carbon footprint is,” says Sister Josephine.

By contrast, the new convent with broadband-ready bedrooms for up to 30 nuns will be a modern, green building with rainwater harvesting, reedbed sewage systems, sedum roofs, recycled material, a woodchip boiler and responsibly- sourced timber.

When they move into their new home next month, the first £4.5m phase of the building, which includes the monastic block, refectory and chapel, will be complete. The architects stayed at Stanbrook to get a feel for how the nuns live and what has emerged is a building full of light and grace and a respect for the natural environment.

The site, which houses nine Scandinavian holiday lodges near the medieval ruins of Rievaulx Abbey, seemed heaven-sent.

“We kept being drawn back,” says Sister Benedicta.

“There is a real sense of monastic history here,” adds Sister Scholastica.

Sister Josephine, 37, who was a teacher in Sunderland before joining the convent, feels the nuns are in harmony with the heritage of their surroundings: “There is a sense of prayer within the stones, even through the ruins. We are carrying on the tradition of monastic life here. People come and tap into prayer.”

They will create accommodation for up to 15 guests, in keeping with the Benedictine tradition for hospitality.

People come for retreat or mass or just to visit.

“They usually come from very busy lives and are looking to get away from it all. We listen to God and try to pass on what we have listened to,” explains Sister Julian.

With only weeks to go, talk of the move sends the nuns into an uncharacteristic flap.

“We have been packing up for goodness knows how long,” says Sister Josephine.

“Nuns are terrible hoarders. We have cupboards full of things we don’t need.”

Several sales have shed some of the clutter accumulated since 1837, but Stanbrook Abbey’s corridors are still lined with boxes and discarded furniture.

“There is no way we can move everyone in one day,” says Sister Benedicta, who has been contemplating the logistics of getting all their worldly goods into a fleet of removal vans.

The community has had five homes in its 385-year history, having first moved to Stanbrook from Cambrai, in France, after the French Revolution.

While the nuns feel nervous, they are also full of hope.

Their days will remain the same – rising at 5am for prayer and attending the first of six church services at 6am.

In between, they work, eat and continue to pray and read.

Although, as at Stanbrook, they won’t have TV in their new home, the nuns will not be cut off from the world.

They have newspapers and radio.

“We don’t sit around watching telly. But we do know what is going on.

“We could tell you who is in the England cricket team, and the latest scores as well,” says Sister Benedicta.

They make their own entertainment, performing occasional sketches or funny stories.

“Life in the monastery can be very entertaining. We enjoy a joke and there is a lot of laughter.

“We have barbecues when the weather is nice and we are experts at parties.”

Sister Josephine adds: “When the chocolates come out on Sunday, there is an unwritten rule that we only take three, you don’t need any more.

“We know how to make things special and value what we have.”