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.
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