She smiled beatifically: ‘I think you’re one too - I can always tell.’ I nodded vaguely and returned to my parasites.
‘I’m a Pleiadian, a light body visiting Earth,’ one young woman told me earnestly, kissing the crystal slung round her neck. Pictured: Nicole Kidman in Nine Perfect Strangersīefore every ‘meal’ (juice) he made us chant blessings for several minutes and hold copper wire gizmos to ‘zap’ our internal parasites. Jane Alexander, who is a regular spa reviewer for glossy magazine Conde Nast Traveller, said she will never forget a woman having multiple orgasms next to her at a retreat. At a retreat in Portugal, a skinny man with long hair and a faint smell of mould asked me solemnly not to walk off the paths as I might ‘disturb the nature spirits’. On the less carnal side are people so airy they’d float off in a stiff breeze. ‘That was amazing,’ she confided over tea and biscuits later.
But I’ll never forget the triumphant ululations of a woman having multiple orgasms courtesy of two guys on the mattress next to me. The Tantra retreat was more respectful - we spent a lot of time ‘finding our boundaries’ and enjoyed long sessions of gentle arm-stroking. ‘Very probably,’ I said and marched firmly on. ‘Are you scared of being naked? Ashamed of your body?’ he countered, gyrating his hips. ‘Join us!’ called a middle-aged man, thrusting his groin in my direction. But at a Finnish retreat I stumbled over a room of naked people dancing. Like many Brits, I was brought up hopping around under a towel when getting changed on the beach. Yogic peace, harmony and compassion? Om, not so much. One yoga princess, dressed in top-end barely-there gear, threw a hissy fit and stormed off when someone got up for a loo break during her Sanskrit mantras. ‘Let’s do another one together.’ Reader, I gave her the wrong phone number.Įven the teachers can come with a hefty dose of ego. ‘Well, this was fun,’ she beamed as I tried to slink out unseen at the end of my stay. Everywhere I went, she was there - noting a yoga teacher’s inadequate lotus position, pontificating on which therapist had the best myofascial technique or explaining to the chef that the regime dictated three, not four, new potatoes. She proceeded to spa-splain a veritable Which? report on the spas of the world. ‘No, first time for me,’ I replied jauntily. Once, as I sat quietly in the steam room of a famous spa in Austria, a disembodied voice punched through the fog: ‘Have you been here before?’ Then you have the spa addict who has been everywhere and done everything. In fact, I often felt like the only person in the place, swimming lengths of the empty pool and eating alone in the cavernous restaurant. I didn’t see any of them again - the super-rich stay safely in their penthouses, it seems. Most of them are staff - a chef, security, a personal trainer, the nannies. ‘Her whole family have come along to see her off.’ UK-based writers share their strangest experiences at spas, as Nicole Kidman’s (pictured) much-hyped new drama Nine Perfect Strangers prepares to launch on Amazon Prime Especially the ultra-wealthy.Ī few years back, in the sleek lobby of Clinique la Prairie in Switzerland, where a stay is said to start at around £12,000 a week, a woman came in with a man and two children, and half a dozen other people.
Yet the strangest things in spas are not the treatments but the people you encounter there. In the trailer, we see the titular guests jumping off cliffs, doing dawn yoga and digging their own ‘therapeutic’ graves. Kelley, which may explain why there’s so much excitement around it.
BROKEN HEART BORDELLO MONK SERIES
The series is based on the book by Liane Moriarty, who also wrote Kidman’s TV hit Big Little Lies and is adapted by the same writer, David E. So the world of Nicole Kidman’s much-hyped new drama Nine Perfect Strangers, launching on Amazon Prime next week, in which the guests leave their phones at the spa door to indulge in extreme therapies, is familiar to me. As the author of more than 20 books on health and wellbeing, and a regular spa reviewer for glossy magazine Conde Nast Traveller, I’ve lost count of the number of retreats I have been on, trying everything from masturbation meditation to attending my own ‘funeral’. Over the past 30 years, I’ve endured more colonics and juice fasts than any sensible person would countenance.
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