A wellness retreat with coffee and wine? Yes, you can
This veteran of the healthy holiday scene is ditching deprivation and making sure its guests have fun.
I’m in a gymnasium hall, furiously pounding a fitball with a pair of drumsticks to the nostalgic beat of Knock on Wood. “Around the world,” cries our instructor, a blonde pony-tailed bundle of fast-twitch muscle fibres, cueing a sequence that sees me and a dozen other participants spin around, strike our neighbours’ fitballs and try not to poke each other’s eyes out.
The Drums on Fire class is terrific fun. One of the signature offerings at Gwinganna Lifestyle Retreat, a wellness hideaway perched in the Gold Coast hinterland, it’s a familiar touchpoint for returning guests. But there are surprises in store for those, like me, who have signed up for the inaugural Healthy Escape retreat, a four-night getaway that abandons the usual asceticism. During this program, there is no pre-dawn knock on the door. Instead of an early-to-bed routine featuring dim lights and soft voices, there are after-dinner activities ranging from drumming circles to candle-lit meditation sessions. Strict portion control at mealtimes eases; no sirens go off when you sneak seconds of blueberry cinnamon buckwheat porridge at breakfast. A glass of organic wine, albeit not much more than an egg cup’s worth, is served with dinner. And rather than spending day three in the throes of caffeine withdrawal, there’s a tangerine-tinged Daisy Days coffee caravan stationed outside the breakfast room for three hours from 8am.
A woman who’s on her 10th visit startles at the sight of it. “That,” she says, with a level of awe usually reserved for unicorn sightings, “is something I’ve never seen here before.”
Sharon Kolkka was Gwinganna’s general manager for almost 16 years and still has a say in the development of new products like this. “Some people simply would not come unless they could have their coffee,” she says. Knowing when to compromise, or to hold a hard line, is how health retreats like Gwinganna remain relevant when every other hotel offers juice shots, yoga mats and in-house spas. Expanding the accommodation options is another way to keep things fresh.
Although I’m staying in a spacious meditation suite, I peek inside one of three new wellness suites, launched at the start of the year. They offer deep indoor and outdoor baths, valley views and a private infrared sauna and massage recovery chair.
The retreat’s daily routine is also more relaxed than usual. There’s no qi gong on the lawn as the sun rises, but rather the choice of a “challenging” or “gentle” hike, or another activity such as pilates, starting at the civilised hour of 7am. I opt for the challenging hike, which follows the steep incline of the property’s old driveway before turning off on to a winding bush track that leads up to a yoga deck surrounded by eucalypts. I’m huffing, puffing and falling behind as the group dribbles down what’s dubbed “the goat track”, to a lookout with views out to Surfers Paradise in the north and Fingal’s Cook Island in the south.
After breakfast, and a blissfully strong double-shot latte, I find a second wind. At this point in the day, guests can choose between a range of “active movement” options such as cardio salsa, basketball or deep-water running, or “restorative” choices such as qi gong or yoga flow. I opt for an active boxing class and find the experience of punching perfect strangers exhilarating.
For the third and final session of the morning, I slip into a restorative yin yoga class. Shielded by an eye pillow, supported by a bolster, wrapped in a blanket and tuned to the instructor’s soporific tones, I slip into a strange sort of half-sleep, immersed in golden light and gratitude. Someone nudges me awake in time for lunch. Today, it’s carrot, caraway and maple soup, followed by prawns romesco with sweet potato, salsa and a salad.
The food is delicious, nutritious and served in such quantities that my anxiety about whether I might starve dissipates. I lean in to the experience of having a chef make all the decisions for me. I later learn that the kitchen team, led by nutritionist Samantha Gowing, has loosened the reins especially for this retreat, while still remaining true to Gwinganna’s SLOW (seasonal, local, organic, wholefoods) philosophy, which shuns gluten and dairy.
Afternoons are devoted to rest, which might involve a nap, self-guided meditation, a dip in one of the property’s two pools, or a stroll around the stone labyrinth. But the hottest post-lunch ticket is a spa session. With 33 treatment rooms positioned around a sweeping circular boardwalk, Gwinganna Spa Sanctuary is billed as the largest facility of its kind in the southern hemisphere. The treatment menu offers a fantasia of familiar options, such as pedicures, facials and massages, alongside esoterica, including colonic hydrotherapy, holistic iridology, vibrational energy healing, tarot card reading and chi nei tsang (emotional blockage-releasing abdominal massage).
I push open the spa’s mirrored doors to find a 3m-tall statue of Miryani, an imposing deity of unknown origin, with her dove Pinhu. Breathing in air thick with essential oils, I change into a fluffy white robe and take a seat in the waiting area beside a water dispenser with crystals suspended in a chamber at its core. Some believe these stones balance and restore body and mind; others claim that’s baloney. Either way, I wouldn’t be surprised to see Goop’s Gwyneth Paltrow come sidling round the corner.
Fortunately, the footsteps I can hear belong to my therapist, who spirits me away for an 80-minute “intuitive massage”, a freestyle blend of techniques that, in my case, involves myofascial cupping and hot stones, which dart across my skin like minnows.
By the time I stroll into dinner, I’m super-relaxed and forget about the ban on the use of mobile phones, except in our room, or at an old cricket stand on the property. An eagle-eyed staff member is on me quicker than you can say “goji berry”.
“Excuse me, hello, hi there,” she says, breaking through the haze of stress hormones that the mere sight of electronic devices can unleash. “Just popping that away. Now, please.”
I’m chastened but relieved, realising I now have the perfect, inviolable excuse not to answer that call, respond to that text, draft that email or scroll through social media. Digital detoxification might be the final wellness frontier.
IN THE KNOW
Gwinganna Lifestyle Retreat is set amid 200 lush hectares of rainforest in the Tallebudgera Valley about half an hour from Gold Coast Airport. The next Healthy Escape program is scheduled to run in January 2024; a range of other stays (including Detox, Optimum Wellbeing and The Longevity Project) run back-to-back throughout the year. Four-night retreats from $2515 a person, twin-share ($3465 a person, twin-share, in the new wellness suites). Includes seminars, practical sessions and activities, meals and snacks and selected spa treatments.
gwinganna.com
Denise Cullen was a guest of Gwinganna Lifestyle Retreat.
