EVERYTHING IN AUGUST

ps, I haven't been to all of these places in August, but I have been to all of these places in 2018 - just forgot to post them.   More to come.

SKI RESORTS FOR NON SKIERS

Say hi to the sky.   Four hours every day at La Folie Douce, half way up the mountain in Courcheval, I lived a Martini ad.  Beautiful (ish) people dancing on tables, dancers and singers belting out rock ballads (in tune) while skiers parapented, swooping above our heads, like psychedelic eagles, as the DJ shouted out ‘say hi to the sky’. £30 for a small fish n chips, magnums of champagne being sent down every five minutes to the highest bidder and everyone dancing on tables in their ski boots, risking leg, limb and pride to boogie with girls dressed as pirates, one guy dressed as an Indian chief, another dressed in a unitard pink and turquoise unicorn outfit, with pink stilettos who oddly managed to pull it off brilliantly. Perhaps this is the Russian effect.  There was plenty of bling at the lunch, which happens every day on the mountain, and plenty of bling on view in Courcheval itself, where leopard skin pants, bee stung lips and channel mirrored sunglasses are worn like uniform - regardless of gender.   Diamond encrusted skis on view in the Chanel, Prada, Hermes outlets.  So much has changed since my 18 – 30 basic ski holidays in Mayhofen, when rooms were simple, food was basic and the snow was slush and ice if you were lucky and the skis were heavy and boots were painful and ill fitting and like lead weights. European ski resorts were designed for skiers and little else.  You paid a lot of money to be cold and uncomfortable and in pain.   You either skied or you watched skiers and there wasn’t much to watch as restaurants were designed for functional eating rather than enjoyment.  And mountain cafes served chips and beer.    Regardless of the Russian effect, and perhaps a little because of it, so much has changed and for the better.  

The snow has been good this year unlike the past five.   This is good for the resorts who still heavily depend on the winter season.  Two years ago I spent Christmas in Morzine and there was no snow.  Many European resorts had pushed their summer seasons, with mountain biking, trekking, hiking, electric bikes, but as the winter approached each year, they have always hoped the snows would return.   Even expert skiers find it challenging to ski on ice, and the North American and even South American ski market, where the snow has traditionally fallen heavy and consistently, have benefitted from Europe’s loss.  European ski resorts have therefore had to think what else would attract winter visitors.  As a result snow or no snow, there is now plenty to offer non skiers regardless of the snow.   

For a start, accommodation has improved experientially.  Chalets in particular have upped their game to cater for groups who want to spread the cost and have skiers who want to be on the slopes all day and those who want to lounge by the Jacuzzi, and make the apres ski, part of their all day experience.   This January, I visited the Chalet Iona, just outside Meribel, which caters for up to eighteen.  Each room has satellite Tv, deep thick pile carpets, good connection wifi and a chef and chauffeur if you want. The view over the three valleys is phenomenal.  Food is superb (a veritable work of art) both inside the chalet and there’s also a huge range of restaurants which offer great food at a variety of prices – not just those suited to Russian wallets.   Check out the Chabotte – Chabichou Hotel for people watching as well as good food reasonably priced (for Courcheval).   Pilates and yoga instructors will come to the chalet, and if you don’t want them coming to you, there are plenty of classes in the valley which you can attend.  The nearby large and elegantly designed Acquamotion centre (www.aquamotion-courcheval.com) offers acqua kick boxing so you can kick the wave out of the water, as well as enjoying the spa, sauna, salt water grotto, hamman, massage and even virtual reality experience where you can ski even if you never actually hit the slopes.   A black run without the pain so to speak.   Here you also learn to water surf – good practice for those who want to snow board, as well as aquabiking – think spinning class under water, and there’s a adults only area as well as a family area.  

Meribel is very English – you will hear lots of English voices, but don’t let that put you off. The month before I was in Verbier, at the stylish W Hotel with its own spa and indoor pool, and Richard Branson’s chalet, which is pricier, but has its own staff, chef, chauffeur and guide.  Snow shoeing guided by the Bond girl sounding Cherries Von Bauer, worked every muscle in my thighs and core, but you can also go on gentler, more horizontal routes.  All ski resorts now are looking at ways to keep visitors entertained even if they don’t ski.    

GOOD LIFE IN LISBON

Lisbon is a four-hour flight away, and ten degrees warmer than the UK in the winter – more if you originate from Scotland.  Described as the European San Francisco, in that it is hilly (built on seven of them), has a bridge not dissimilar to that of the Golden Gate, has a light favoured by creative types – authors and artists – and is also built on a fault line, so like San Francisco, they are expecting a tsunami of Biblical proportions any time soon.    (Why is it always the most beautiful places in the world, which are at risk?).  

I stayed at the Corinthia Hotel, a short drive from the airport, which is in the heart of the city.   Although the flagship of this family run hotel group is in London, a bridge away from Waterloo station, this hotel has the largest spa in Europe. There is everything here from a state of the art gym, personal trainer, excellent thalassotherapy centre, signature massages including the Portuguese adventure which takes you on a sensual journey of all cinnamon, clove, bay and salt.  This retreat is inspired by the most traditional and historical Portuguese ingredients. Inspired in the Indian Discovery Routes, led by Vasco da Gama, this treatment starts with a full body exfoliation with flor de sal (fleur de sel) from our coast, enhanced by the unique properties of clove buds and cinnamon, a few of the first exquisite spices that were brought to Europe by the Portuguese Navigator in 1498. This lovely exfoliation follows with a powerful soothing moisturising oil blended to relax tired muscles and ease the mind with the deeply warming effect of clove bud and Indian bay.  

As a city spa it works brilliantly, because Lisbon is a bohemian and green, with tree lined cobbled avenues, extraordinary sunsets and sunrises.   Despite the hills, it’s a very easy city to walk around, (although it only costs 2 euros to take the city tram) to find unusual, unexpected and unique bars, cafés and shops.   In the Chiado district, which has shops like Causto Porto, a pharmacy with soaps too good to unwrap, which celebrates its 150^thanniversary this year. There’s a barbers shop in their basement - indeed there’s a strong barber shop theme present throughout the city.  Many of the cafes and bars section out areas where men are able to get their hair cut (the women can but they don’t).  I suppose a lot of the men have beards and as beards are on trend at the moment, any self-respecting bearded person should head there straight away. Even David Beckham flies down regularly in his private jet to Figaro’s Barbershop de Lisboa Address: R. do Alecrim 39, 1200-014 Lisboa for short back and sides. Other barber shop/cafes to check out are shops 
O Purista – Barbière located in Chiado (https://pt-pt.facebook.com/O-Purista-Barbi%C3%A8re-1512557088958683/)and the Barbearia O Corvo – The Crow Barber shop (https://www.instagram.com/explore/locations/585514131618637/barbearia-o-corvo-the-crow-barbershop/)   

If you are more into words and pictures than hair cuts, mingle with the writers and local artists in Café A Brasileira (http://www.lojascomhistoria.pt/shops/a-brasileira?lang=en.  

There’s A VIDA PORTUGUESA (http://www.avidaportuguesa.com/) which was started by a local journalist, who wanted to bring together all the Portuguese goodies which would be lost forever.  So you’ve got the hand-stitched hankerchiefs, the wooden toys, the filigree jewellery, the cork of course, the original porcelain. Much more variety and much cheaper than you will find at the airport – at least twenty percent cheaper so buy here.     

The hand painted tiles in Fábrica de Sant’anna (http://www.santanna.com.pt/en)the smallest glove shop Luvaria Ulisses (http://www.luvariaulisses.com/uk/pagina/2/historia/).

Food and wine are superb and excellent value.   Some restaurants you are able to book Bairro do Avillez from Chef José Avillez https://www.joseavillez.pt/pt/bairro-do-avillez ).  The dish I recommend is the giant red shrimp and the aged beef loin steakand others you can’t. 
Zero Zero (http://www.pizzeriazerozero.pt/#/principereal). I recommend the Couscous di Gamberi e Legumi  and the Quinoa salad with Tuna and Melograno with shallot and pumpkin seeds.

Most in Lisbon eat late – think past nine. So book for seven.  Or arrive at seven. 

“ESCAPE & REJUVENATE”

DESIGNED FOR THOSE SEEKING A VITALITY BOOST OR JUST INTERESTED IN AN INTRODUCTION TO THE ELEMENTS OF WELLNESS.

Check-in to a world of elegance at Corinthian Hotel Lisbon then check-out into the relaxation zone with a sublime Total Relax massage Aromatherapy massage. Fully recharge your batteries with an overnight stay in utter luxury before a delicious buffet breakfast the following morning.

PRICE: 160€

PACKAGE PRICE INCLUDES

•Accommodation with full buffet breakfast;

•One Aromatherapy massage, per person;

•Unlimited access to the heated indoor swimming pool and Fitness room

.

NUN-MUST-STAY

People are increasingly treating travel like medicine – expecting a holiday to fix them – or their relationship. But travel is geography and ultimately you still end up with yourself.   Travel industry has reacted to the demand. Spas have morphed into retreats, a place you can cloister yourself from the world and get your mind, body and spirit back in alignment.  Many retreats are enclosed - away from the urban, usually within a rural setting, with a manufactured sense of calm (incense, candles, calming music) rather than an authentic one. Culture is an immense part of the authenticity. Some cultures are naturally embracing, others cooler and this will always come across in the staff however tightly they have been trained.  And dare you venture out, you will see what the real world is like –aggressive, judgemental and unfair. But there is a country where even the cities are retreats in themselves.  I visited the city of Quebec in eastern Canada to take in the progressive vibe. 

When I was young I wanted to be a nun.  I watched the film The Nun’s Story with Audrey Hepburn and was fascinated by the discipline and serenity of living in a monastic world, where I would also travel, and save on all the heart-ache and hassle in getting into a relationship with a realman. The fact I wasn’t Catholic was a minor inconvenience, but as yoga is on trend and the world seems to be in need of a global Omm, I was intrigued by the idea of retreating into a monastery, where nuns still live, and where the alternative practice of yoga, tai chi, qi gong and a collection of alternative practices are offered to guests who are in seek of a retreat.  Le Monastere des Augustines is situated in the heart of Old Quebec City, and is part of one of the oldest heritage sites in Canada. Dating from the 17^thcentury, old by North American standards, two and a half years ago, the monastery was transformed into a sixty-five bedroom contemporary retreat, offering value for money one to seven day packages. 

            There’s a fascinating museum telling you about the history of the place, as well as showing over 40,000 exhibits including the 13 layers the nuns use to dress in (all dolls to show them how they should look at the end of it).  Sort of instruction nuns. 

The yoga and meditation classes, which are included in all of the one to seven day packages, are excellent and for all levels. Held daily at 7am, midday and 5.30pm, breakfast is at eight, and you eat in silence. With most of the packages breakfast is included but check first as the different packages offer different meals inclusive of price.  The instructors speak English and French and use yoga, mediation, tai chi and qi gong as well as other relaxation techniques, which are highly effective.  Classes are held in the vaults which are well lit and create a very good space. As you may imagine, the energy is very calm and the instructors teach from the heart and are very knowledgeable and authentic.  The room is well lit although there are headless angels looking down over you which is slightly disconcerting but I felt there was a benevolent spirit looking down on me rather than a malevolent one. Massage, facials and other therapies are available but the best value packages are those where meals are included as are these thrice-daily sessions.  

Having had the guided tour of the museum, I felt the Augustine nuns were very progressive to the point of being positively cool – if nuns can be cool, these were seriously cool nuns. The Augustines practiced yoga long before it became on trend in the world. There’s still twelve living at the monastery, in a part separated only by a door, and you will see them occasionally. Many of the nuns specialised in certain areas and Augustines specialised in medicine. These nuns were nurses. During the Seven Year War (which the French won), they not only cared for the wounded soldiers, but also trained the doctors. These nuns were the original feminists. They were highly skilled and its fascinating reading about their work, how medicine developed, seeing the equipment they used from the operating table to the ventilator made out of a pig’s stomach. 

They also worked with the First Nation Indians and learnt and used local herbs and roots in their medicines.  I highly recommend having the guided tour although you can go round it by yourself, but you’ll learn some interesting and unusual facts which aren’t in the brochure.  One of them, which I found amusing, was the sewage system was very advanced and shared with the local Ursuline nuns (who were the teachers, and the Jesuits, who all came over on the same boat).  When archeologists were excavating to find out more about the history of the place and about how the nuns lived, they find out a lot about looking through the ‘shit’ (a bit like our tabloids do now), but they found very little in the sewage system of the monastery, claiming that ‘the holy shit was literally clean’.  Now you know. 

The bedrooms are either contemporary or the rooms the nuns would sleep in (simpler but still lovely), and although it is tempting to stay inside all the time – there is a chapel with service each day, I recommend venturing out into Old Quebec, which is literally on your doorstep.  Quebec is a city you should walk around.  Forget the taxis.  Walk up towards the Fairmont Chateau Fontrenac (five to ten minutes walk) and look over the St Laurence River.   This is no estuary.  Quebec is the inuit word for ‘where the river narrows’ and the force with which the water flows through creates a very powerful and positive vibe in the city. Artists flock here from around the world, not just because of the light, which is bright in the summer months, and silver bright in the winter.  Famous for its winter Carnavale, the city is blanketed in snow for five months - and the nurturing spirit rather than the commerciality of Christmas last with it. Travel down on the funicular railway and you’ll see the Old city, with its galleries, restaurants and cobbled squares.

The only time to take a car is when travelling to the Falls. Hire a guide with a car to take you to the Montmorecy Falls, which still flow but not as powerfully as they do in the Spring, and then onto the Island, connected by a bridge now (but use to be connected to the mainland by an ice bridge), and visit the local artists and artisans.  Its agricultural, so if you like food markets, you’ll love this place. There is a blackcurrant farm, where the owner is Picasso meets Gordon Ramsey.  A huge bronze statue of naked man greets you as you enter the farm’s shop which makes you remember the visit, if not buy some of the produce, which ranges from the jams, blueberry honey and coulis to the more unusual blueberry mustard and foie gras.  Its particularly famed for its cassis. My guide, Michelle, who has been living in Quebec all her life, and has two daughters, one a homeopath, the other a yoga instructor, is typical of those you meet.  If you want to eat vegan and vegetarian, as you can in the monastery, it is also possible to do so in restaurants, and unlike in France, I did not see anyone smoking during my stay – either in or out of buildings. Not one person “In the 90s, everyone stopped smoking here,” Michelle tells me. “People just realised it wasn’t doing them or their city any good.”

Fact Box. 

www.quebecregion.com

www.hotelgermain.ca

www.monastere.ca/en

www.destinationcanada.com

www.aircanada.ca

www.viarail.ca

YOGA FEST AFTER YOGA FAST IN LA CLUSAZ

With the growth in yoga festivals and the continued success of International Yoga Day, people are travelling further to seek inspiration, challenge and focus from their practice.  Usually following a tried and tested instructor rather than pitching up to a location, when a yoga festival happens there’s a wide choice of instructors to choose from and challenge the new.  It’s good to see what other instructors offer, even if it is only to find out you have found the best instructor for you already.  Most have ventured to California, Ibiza or India, but they are coming closer to home, and the latest in a village in the Aravis area of the 

French Alps has the potential to be the best. 

I recently returned from a yogafest in the mountain village of La Clusaz, about forty minutes drive from Geneva. A three day event, it is in its infancy, but has incredible potential to become one of the leading yoga festivals in the world. There is plenty of accommodation in what is mainly a ski resort, but which has an increasingly popular international mountain bike festival in June.  All the studios are lit with natural light, the main studio with panoramic views over the mountain range. It’s the sort of view one of the clubs in which I teach, has painted on the wall.   The air is clear, and the restaurants, which usually offer meat and dairy, are offering ‘menu equilibre’ with more balanced and vegetarian options.  There was a yogi market, with only about seven stall holders, but this will grow.  

The surrounding countryside and landscape is wonderful.   You are able to paddle board yoga with a view of the valley in the background, as hand gliders fly over head. It is like being in a Martini ad. 

The three days were packed with talks on nutrition, tantric, rhythmic dance, energy healing, acupuncture as well as many master classes from world class instructors. Catering for all levels, there was emphasis on parents and children taking part in many of the classes, although these were kept separate from the main master classes. 

Not all of them were in English – actually very few were, and although I speak French well, and Omm is Omm in any language, it made me realise the importance of not only voice in yoga, but also the importance of what is talked about around the asana. Yes, we are still able to understand the vibration of the voice, but the message is lost and the asana without the mind being able to assimilate the visualisations or identify how and why the poses present a challenge which enables us to grow, that things happen for us, not to us, are important messages to hear and understand when you are attempting a hand stand or side balance.  

I know this to be the case, as when I was going through the motions, the asana, without fully understanding what was being said, the practice didn’t go deep. When I did it reached far deeper. This is my experience. 

I sit in lotus and close my eyes and allow the instructor’s words to sink into me. Absorbed like water to a sponge. I soak them up and see what happens. 

And thoughts come into my head. I see a little girl in my arms. And then a dark haired boy and another boy, with fair hair.  But only half there. Once faintly etched. But I feel the love of the little girl. And the dark haired boy is staring at me.  And I know. They are the ones I let go. I didn’t have the emotional or financial support to have these children so I let them go. In my mind’s eye I see the little girl in my arms is looking at me the way Tom, my only son, looked at me all those years ago. And the little boy is looking at me, so strong and standing upright. The fair haired boy is not as strong. But I love him anyway.  

See what I mean?   Look beyond the pretentious twaddle of what some of the yoga world has become and see it for what it is. The internal journeys we take are so much more interesting than the outer ones. But the outer ones give us ways to describe the inner. That is the authentic purpose of travel.  A way to find out more about your self and ultimately find peace. 

La Clusaz is a natural haven for yoga – surrounded by mountains, with streams running through it. Walking through the village, La Clusaz teaches you to look up. Mountains teach you to look up and be strong.  The streams running through the village teach you to keep in the flow, to go with the flow, to move on, to not stagnate in body, thought or action. And the calm, teaches you to be centred. The cowbells teach you to live in the moment, like little myan balls reminding you of being in the now. The festival was only four days, but this place is ideal for yoga any day of the year. 

Next year there will be more English speaking instructors who will hold the classes in English.  Bi lingual teachers will also offer the ‘bonjour hi’ element to sessions which I recently experienced while in Quebec at Le Monastere, where the instructors talk in both French and English and dance between the two.  

In its infancy, the festival was free of the pretentious twaddle that often the more established festivals fall prey to.  Authenticity and soul is sacrificed for commercial gain and getting the balance right is as challenging as it often is in the asana. 

The instructor taught me to hand stand on my right then my left hand.  He told the class how before that morning practice he walked in the hills and carried a seed around with him to remind him these mighty trees grew from something so small. La Clusaz yoga festival, though small, is perfectly formed, and has all the right ingredients to establish itself as the best yoga annual festival in the world. I will enjoy watching it grow. 

#annecymoutnains

laclusaz

@laclusazskiresort

www.laclusaz.com

For details about the festival contact. http://www.katymisson.com/en/home/

+33 6 67 27 15 82 info@katymisson.com

Yoga Festival prices:

Prices for the festival :

- 20 euros for one session

- 180 euros for 2 days

- 210 euros for 3 days

Hotel les Sapins from 85 euros per room per night 

For further details about the festival check out website 

http://laclusaz-satiamyogafestival.com

OXTAIL CROQUETS IN CARMONA AND SEVILLE IN THE SPRING

Some places are so beautiful it is like walking into a painting. This happened on a recent trip to Spain, where I took the train from Malaga to Seville and then a bus to the town of Carmona, famous for its olive oil and wine. Perched on a ridge overlooking the central plain of Andalusia, Carmona is one of the oldest towns in Europe, and the oldest in Spain. Miguel de Cervantes (Don Quixote) lived here while preparing for the Spanish Armada, and you catch the same spirit of adventure as soon as you arrive, navigating your way through the narrow streets of this enigmatic town – best experienced on foot. 

            This region is best visited in the Spring because from June till mid September the temperatures are oven-hot.  Fly into Seville direct, or do as I did and take the train from Malaga. (I took the train in Spain and it rained mainly on the plain). 

In Spring, the orange blossom is out in Seville, making it the most unlikely of things – a fragrant city, and you are able to enjoy private walking tours of Seville’s UNESCO World Heritage listed monuments, see the imposing Giralda tower, the symbol of Seville and visit the largest cathedral in the world, as well as see where Christopher Columbus is buried, explore the Royal Alcazar, and the beautiful Santa Cruz quarter., without breaking into a sweat. 

Taking the bus from Seville to Carmona is only forty minutes, although make sure you go to the San Banardino bus stop and not the Prado de San Sebastian, as I was told to.  I walked through that park in that square five times, asking different bus drivers where to get the M124 bus, to eventually be told be a policeman I was in the wrong area entirely. This is what the locals call Spanish chaos. I got there eventually.

The Alcazar de la Puerta de Devilla, Carmona’s distinctive fortress and Necropolis Romana and Prioral de Santa Maria de la Asuncion, are on the well organised and free tourist trail, but pick midweek and away from the midday sun even in the Spring months.  There are phenomenal views from the northern part of the old town over the Cuevas de la Batida, a series of caves set in a wall of rock and another on the east side overlooking the valley below. 

I stayed at the Casa Palacio de Carmona. At any moment I expected Dame Judy Dench and Dame Maggie Smith to walk through the door.  Like a scene from Room with a View, in a hotel where every wall, corner, crevice and staircase looks like something out of a Merchant Ivory film set, Casa Palacio de Carmona embraces nature and light in its architecture, creating a perfect symbiosis of beauty and space.  Mr Beebe would approve. This place makes you want to be a better painter or writer or poet to do it justice. Casa Palacio de Carmona is like walking into an Italian Renaissance painting, although it’s actually in Spain. This is not surprising as the owner’s mother, Marta, has designed the hotel and restaurant, which dates back to 1561 (according to the sign outside). “The renovation has been a labour of love,” Philippe, the owner tells me.  Educated in England (Norwich) he speaks perfect English and nothing is too much trouble. On my arrival, he prepared clams in garlic and ox tail croquets. I haven’t eaten meat in over a decade but these, I’m ashamed to say, were utterly delicious.  It’s the sort of hotel you could happily spend hours in silence, sitting, staring and soaking in the atmosphere. There’s something positively monastic about it, but in 

FLUSHED. - fasting and DIY colonics for a week.

I’ve never been on a juice or fast retreat, combining cutting out on solids and daily yoga and mediation.  Some holidays and trips have turned into holistic semi fasting experiences, through necessity, where nature has allowed a group to open up to strangers in a way they would not normally open up to strangers let alone people they know or may ever see again. As someone who teaches yoga, I’m cautious of going on a group outing where the alpha competitiveness of who does the best head stand out weighs any form of instagram bonhomie.  Then there’s the price, which it at the high end tends to attract those with a need for greed, who believe self awareness is an excuse to be even more entitled than they already feel they are. And I don’t want to be in the company of these people, and actually they realise, neither do they. But there’s a butcoming. 

Two quarter hours from London, forty minutes from Faro, Moinhos Velhos is a retreat which caters for up to twelve people.  For my week there were nine women (ages 40 something to fifty something), two men (forty something) and a teenager who was brought by her mother. The setting is a converted farmhouse, which is beautiful, overlooking a stunning valley. Very clean rooms, clinic, pool, lovely yoga studio, sauna, and greenhouse (which is locked at night in case you fancy pinching a papaya). 

From seven to ten days, guests live off a daily routine of juice (at eight, one and four pm), and something they call soup (coloured water) at seven. You are given husk and a gloop which helps binds everything together that’s been stored or rotting in your intestine, large and small, for the past five to ten years. You are then asked to give yourself a colonic everyday, ideally two. Everything is organic. The vegetables and fruit used in the juices are all organic, grown from the onsite greenhouse. You are given enough pills to make you rattle which sustain your intake of mineral and vitamins.  

Each lunchtime, you learn about nutrition, or things like neti jars and how to use them (I’m a natural allegedly) or why it is great for your lymphatic system if you dry scrub under the armpits and behind the knees. And every ‘mealtime’ you repeat a mantra where you hold hands with said strangers and repeat ‘blessings on the juice’. I did not mind doing this bit although I swapped glances with the teenager who was brought on the week by her well-meaning mum, who wondered what the hell was going on. She had been promised a week in the sun in Portugal and she’d got a week of fasting and a self inflicted colonic every day.  My son would have gone AWOL.  

You are given a lot of support from the staff and therapists during the week. And having superb weather helped. There are alternative therapists which offer a range of treatments from acupuncture, reflexology, cranial therapy,, deep tissue massage and more unusual alternative therapies such as BARS, which like something out of Star Trek, where all your memories come flooding back to you as it is allegedly meant to do in a bungee jump/sky dive moment, where you become aware of what is important and what isn’t. 

Yet looking back at the seven days, the juice is not the main event. Nor strangely is the self inflicted colonic, which is much easier than it sounds - one other guest called it ‘going to the toilet for lazy people’ . Women loose muffin tops and baby weight, men loose beer bellies and man boobs. Toddler-like, you become attentive to what’s coming out of you, although I did think the first day, when we were ‘eating’ our first juice, a guest mentioning the ‘parasites, worms and polyps’ that emerge in the pan, was not the best timing. 

            What I do remember are the magical walks in the country I took each morning (six thirty). These aren’t obligatory but they help. I would walk for an hour up to the hills and along a road, seeing the sun rise and the moon wink at it.  Over a nearby lake, five, then six, no it is seven, wind machines gradually emerge from the low cloud like War of the World machines hovering over setting where the only noise is the birds which seem very loud – but perhaps because there are no other sounds.   

There is yoga and meditation each morning, which focuses on hatha and meditation with an hour on pranayama.  As a teacher who gets scowled at if I do more than fifteen minutes, this was bliss.   Lots of visualisation as well.  Wonderful way to start the morning.  And we practiced the yoga asanas of sun salutation, locust, tree, shoulder stand, bow and triangle most mornings). 

            On the first morning I was irritable, second tearful, third weak, forth wanted to be close to a toilet all morning, but on the fifth could have run a marathon. In fact, it is exactly like running a marathon. No matter how well you plan, you hit a wall, and start to re evaluate why you are doing this, that it may be damaging you and is boring (food is interesting – talking about it, looking at it, creating it, and oh yes, eating it). But once over that wall, you come out of it feeling more energized and valuing life more and every mouthful.

Did we miss food? All of us bantered about food around the pool, what they would eat when they first came out, and what they craved. 

Everyone lost weight. Everyone gained an insight in how they wanted to change their lives, some even had an epiphany (Essex man was going to work with dogs for the blind and become a consultant to his friend). I lost nearly ¾ of a stone (don’t need to) but came away with a clarity, which no amount of downward dogs, trees and eagles would have done alone. Getting rid of the old to allow in the new happens on a psychological level as well as s physical level here. 

What have I taken away from this? My time here taught me life isn’t only what you put into it, but what you take out of it. My eyes shine, my skin glows, I’ve got a lot more energy – mental as well as physical, and a clearer perspective on what I want from my life. I feel amazing.  

Courtyard in France. 

My lovely home in France has a very special courtyard.  A fountain with goldfish, and some dark in the middle, and grapes which I'm sure one day will grow fine wine (but not yet). There's a light coming into the right, and its probably a smudge on the screen, but I like to think its an angel looking over it.  I'm blessed to have it.