Best wellness retreats in Thailand: Kamalaya Wellness Sanctuary and Holistic Spa
Mindfulness and self-care were not for me; I don’t like activated almonds or acai. But then I went to this Thai resort and it made me rethink everything.
The terms wellness, mindfulness and self-care are so overused that I have stopped paying attention. They appear in my social media feeds courtesy of attractive influencers and celebrities, on giant ads on the back of buses promoting vitamins, and in news stories about how we can all live longer. For me, these words are the mantra of an unrelatable group of people who have the time to indulge in such activities; who carry around giant two-litre water bottles, get up at 5am to do yoga and meditate, eat activated almonds and sip green power smoothies.
This is not for me. I do not have time or the inclination to engage in such frivolity; my brain doesn’t stop, I don’t have the co-ordination to do yoga and I do not know how to pronounce acai, let alone know what it actually is. I am someone whose days include coffee in the morning, a chocolate hit in the afternoon and a gin and tonic at night. I am a wellness sceptic.
So when asked to go to the Kamalaya Wellness Sanctuary on Koh Samui for a story, I don’t have any expectations. I have not been to the Thai island since I was a 19-year-old backpacker, an experience I don’t really remember thanks mostly to the copious quantities of cocktails consumed while dancing with friends. For this trip, I am envisaging a few days of massages and doing some work by the pool. I have no idea that seven days at Kamalaya will change my life.
I get an inkling it may be more than just an island resort while meeting co-founder Karina Stewart in Sydney prior to my stay. Stewart is trained in Chinese medicine and has had more than 40 years’ experience in the world of holistic health and wellbeing. She met her husband, John Stewart, at an ashram in India in 1982 while he was a Hindu monk; they combined their expertise to open Kamalaya in November 2005.
My first impressions of Stewart are positive. For starters, she orders a coffee not a herbal tea. When she asks me about any health concerns I want to address during my stay, I admit that I am recovering from Long Covid after the illness that shut down the world also put me in hospital. “Me too,” she exclaims. “Isn’t it awful?” She then tells me what she has planned: “We will get you in the hyperbaric chamber for oxygen therapy – I found that really helpful for the brain fog – and also you should do some IV immunity infusions.”
These treatments are delivered at Longevity House at the resort, which specialises in the rapidly growing area of functional medicine. It’s just one part of 20-plus appointments across my seven-night Comprehensive Balance and Revitalise program, which includes consultations with a naturopath and a Chinese medicine practitioner, acupuncture, stress management sessions, meditation lessons and mindfulness classes.
I arrive at Kamalaya late on a Monday night, directly from an unusually cold Sydney winter into the wonderful heat and humidity of Thailand. I instantly relax. Located on a hillside on Koh Samui’s southern coast, the resort is set within a lush landscape of palm trees, bougainvillea, frangipani and hibiscus. I am taken to my villa in the dark, halfway up a steep hill; the beach and pool are at the bottom, the Wellness Centre in the middle and the main restaurant, reception and library up the top. I don’t realise until the next morning when I open the blinds how stunning the outlook is as I gaze out over a waterfall and stream and out to the sea. It is a tropical paradise.
Armed with my map and a detailed three-page schedule, I turn up to my first appointment at the Wellness Centre, which like all the communal buildings at Kamalaya, is an open-air pavilion that literally nestles into the natural environment; even the reception desk is built around giant boulders. I am taken for bioelectrical impedance analysis, which involves standing on something resembling scales while grasping a steel frame that uses electrical pulses to measure muscle mass, body fat and fluid.
Next I meet Kate, a naturopath from Britain, who takes me through my results. It turns out my muscle mass could be better; a body composition chart shows where I am and where I need to be. The gap is significant and will become even wider as I stare down the barrel of middle age. Do you do weights? Do you eat a lot of protein? My answer to both is no. What do you eat in a normal week, she asks. As I go through my meals, it becomes clear change is required. The convenient prepacked salads I grab at lunchtime cause me to hit the chocolates in the afternoon because I am still hungry but also exhausted and need a pick-me-up. What I think is a reasonably healthy diet actually comprises the wrong foods entirely. “You are not fuelling your body correctly,” Kate says. “Given your history with Long Covid, why are you not using food to help yourself and your immune system?”
Good bloody question, I think, under Kate’s kind but unwavering gaze. Maybe my dependence on cakes, biscuits and chocolate needs re-evaluating. Kate suggests cutting sugar for a few months given I will get a good head start at Kamalaya, where the cuisine is low in sugar, fat, dairy and gluten. She prescribes a week of the detox menu – low-inflammatory, plant-based food – with an added 100 grams daily of protein, either tofu, chicken, snapper, prawns, tuna or eggs.
My first taste of the new eating regimen happens at lunch in the poolside Amrita Cafe, and it is delicious. The detox version of traditional Thai snack Mien Kam contains green betel leaves with dried coconut, pineapple, ginger, shallots, sesame seeds, pumpkin seeds and tamarind sauce. The bright green leaves mixed with these colourful ingredients deliver an instant flavour burst. Paired with grilled, succulent tiger prawns (for my protein hit), it is one of the most memorable meals I have had recently. And the food only gets better over my stay. A green mango salad is more-ish, vegetable curries are just spicy enough, and I have to refrain from licking the bowl of gazpacho-style avocado soup, which sounds unappealing but is incredibly flavoursome.
On my third day, I meet Sujay for a 90-minute stress-management session. I have absolutely no idea what this will entail but I’m surprised to end up in floods of tears. A monk for 14 years, Sujay is now a counsellor, life coach and mentor, and one of the most empathetic people I have ever met. He listens to me describe my struggle with Covid and my fear about getting it again. He talks about how we neglect our bodies trying to keep up with day-to-day life and the importance of self-care: to exercise, eat well and to meditate. How you cannot look after other people if you don’t look after yourself. Given I am a full-time working mother of two children, I feel particularly seen. “What did you look like when you were eight?” he asks me. “Picture yourself as an eight year old and now add her to your other children. You are now your third child and it is also your job to look after her.”
“Oh, you cannot hide anything from the monks,” a guest jokes as I run into him straight after my session with Sujay, rather embarrassed by my unexpected emotions. “They see you. They unpack everything and get right to the point. They are extraordinary and why a lot of people come here.”
A 45-minute meditation lesson is next on my schedule, this time with Jyoti, who teaches yoga and a technique called Pranayama. I have never been able to calm my busy mind to master meditation and find the session difficult. When I confess to Jyoti that I can’t clear away my thoughts, she’s reassuring. “The mind is like a crazy, screaming monkey, always darting off in different directions. You just need to be able to acknowledge the thoughts and move on.”
This is reiterated at other meditation and mindfulness seminars, where practitioners talk about the benefits of deep breathing for just 15 minutes. Concentrating like this resets the vagus nerve, which runs from the brain into the gut and relaxes the central nervous system. It’s a relief to learn I don’t have to reach a higher plane to feel the benefits of meditation, I just have to concentrate on breathing.
The concept of mindfulness – of being present in your immediate surrounds rather than in your mind elsewhere – takes on more significance at Kamalaya with the digital-detox policy. Guests are not allowed to have smart phones, iPads or laptops in any part of the resort except their rooms. “You need to look up,” urges one teacher when talking about getting out of our heads and being aware of our environment, but it’s a message that applies equally to our use of mobile phones.
The prospect of eating alone for seven days without my device is intimidating but by my second night at Kamalaya, any fear evaporates as I join the communal table. Within minutes of sitting down with strangers – not an easy thing to do – I am deep in warm, engaging conversation with people from across the world. We soon become friends and I rarely spend another meal solo. I meet a doctor from Perth, a teacher from London, an Italian who runs an art gallery in Switzerland, an advertising agency owner from Egypt, and a couple who run their own wellness retreat in New Zealand.
The joy of talking and laughing with people – giving you their undivided attention – is wonderful. I also learn I am a rare first-timer among these guests; some come every year, others have been more than 15 times. A yoga instructor from Denmark is staying for six weeks, while another guest books her next stay before she even leaves. “I have been all around the world trying to find the best wellness resort and I have found nothing like this,” says an ex-hockey player from The Netherlands. “Make sure you write in your story how this place changes your life,” adds the Italian.
Three months after returning from Koh Samui, I have to admit the shift has been dramatic. I have changed my approach to cooking, eat more nutrient-dense food and protein, have ditched my afternoon chocolate habit, and even managed to kick sugar entirely for 2 ½ months (I broke while on holiday with my children, and now have it occasionally – nobody should live without cake). I also try to get up early every morning to do pilates or weight training and spend at least 10 minutes doing breathwork.
I have gone from wellness sceptic to convert. It turns out people who make the time to look after themselves are not indulgent or frivolous but pretty damn smart.
In the know
Kamalaya Wellness Sanctuary is on the southeast corner of Koh Samui, about 25km from the airport. Rooms from 10,500 baht ($470) a night, twin-share, for a minimum three-night stay, including a range of daily holistic activities and access to the fitness centre. The seven-night Comprehensive Balance and Revitalise program is 140,608 baht ($6252) and includes 17 consultations and treatments, all meals and drinks, airport transfers and a wellness appointment at the start and end of your stay. Rates applicable to March 2025.
Milanda Rout was a guest of Kamalaya Wellness Sanctuary.
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