I have been wrapped in seaweed, chocolate and mud, but not all at the same time. I have been pricked with tiny needles, abraded with lasers and had heavy brass bowls placed across my body and dinged with a soft mallet. Based on the global wellness industry, an alien visiting to gather intelligence for their home planet could get some seriously strange ideas about our practices. Now I’m in Girona, about to be cryogenically frozen. Thoughts of Captain America come to mind, but after the prescribed three minutes I emerge, energised perhaps, but sadly short of superpowers.
Cryotherapy is one of the high-tech treatments on offer at the Camiral Golf & Wellness Resort, formerly the PGA Catalunya. It was built and owned by the O’Brien family (of Denis fame) and opened in 2016. The name changed in 2022 in line with an increased focus on wellbeing. This is in part courtesy of the on-site futuristic health-related gear that recovering elite sportspeople have been swearing by for years. During my stay I also loll about in a hyperbaric oxygen tent, and get a dose of photo bio modulation, which essentially involves lying on a thing that looks like a sunbed but very much isn’t.
En route, I have an amazingly thorough deep tissue massage and an excellent facial. “What do you use on your skin?” asks Montserrat, the therapist. Expecting to be congratulated on my wonderful self-care, I tell her I’m taking a collagen supplement. “You would be better off boiling up bones for soup,” she informs me drily, delighting me with her unexpected practicality. The soup-vs-supplements debate notwithstanding, I emerge glowing.
I don’t know whether my sense of serene wellbeing derives from the treatments, the lazing by the pool in warm spring sunshine, or the excellent food that includes an introduction to the surprise delights of grilled lettuce with a hint of ponzu sauce, but it’s a very winning combo. Cryotherapy is said to reduce recovery time after competitions or other strenuous exercise. My best test of this came courtesy of accidentally booking an advance Pilates class that morning. Having never done Pilates before, but – being competitive by nature – throwing myself in with gusto, I expected to be unable to move the next day.
Instead I wake after the deepest sleep, aware that I have worked out, but with none of those “damn I can’t bend down to put my socks on” feelings. So what’s involved? They recommend you don’t eat for two hours before, and I nervously strip down to my swimsuit, socks and runners, after having been warned to make sure that none of these include metal elements. Likewise, I remove all jewellery. I’m given a headband for my ears, woolly gloves and a face mask, and head into the first chamber, which is set to a relatively balmy minus-60 degrees. This is, for want of a better way of putting it, the warm-up act, and I’m here for a mere 30 seconds.
Gesturing from outside through a little window, my spa therapist, Vanessa, indicates that it’s time to get colder. The main chamber is minus-110, and as movement is recommended, she holds up an iPad playing a Miley Cyrus video, in which Cyrus gyrates sweatily on a beach. Fortunately my sense of the ridiculous isn’t affected by temperature, so I combine dancing with laughing and make it through the longest 2½ minutes of my life. I don’t actually feel cold in the way that you might waiting for a bus in the rain; instead I feel an intensity. I’m hyper-aware of my skin and my body, and I begin to want to protect myself from something unnamed but enormous. Given that prolonged exposure would constitute a threat to life, this makes sense.
Afterwards, I lie, feeling spaced out, sipping ginger tea and watching my goosebumps abate. In general, between three and 10 sessions are suggested, for sleep, stress, pain management and post-exercise recovery. It’s also recommended not to do your cryotherapy sessions on consecutive days, so to book in for a series would be quite a commitment; but I also have a feeling, alarming as it initially felt, that it might be rather addictive.
Camiral is just 10 minutes from Girona airport, and 20 minutes from the beaches of the Costa Brava in one direction, and the charming city of Girona in the other. Some guests are using the place as a base from which to explore the area, and there are families relaxing by the pool. Golfers drift in and out, discussing the courses: there are two, one of which our neighbours at dinner pronounce are so challenging that they are in need of plenty of beers to wind down. These duly served, they settle in for a night swapping stories of drives, putts and the ones that should have gone down.
The overall vibe is relaxed glam. Kenmare’s most stylish son, Bryan O’Sullivan, has designed the new suites, and there are nice touches from these shores here and there, such as a series of Blaise Drummond prints of seasonal trees in the yoga studio. The updated wellness centre opened in 2020, and now includes a small dedicated diningroom where the chef prepares things that are tempting, but not detrimental to all that hard work you’re doing. An adjacent series of bedrooms lets guests who are focusing on this side of things not be too distracted from their goals.
Throughout the hotel, you’d feel overdressed in a fancy frock, but there is a sheen of wealth to many of the guests, as expressed in that laid-back glide that a certain kind of moneyed person seems to manage to pull off. Dogs are welcome, and the staff are expertly friendly – by our second morning they’re greeting us by name. Beyond golf, there is a vineyard on site, and the home-grown wines are delicious. The white goes gorgeously with delicately breaded artichokes, while poolside it’s hard to fault the rosé – such is my commitment to exploring everything the resort has to offer.
On our last night, we head to Origin, the fine dining restaurant that is Camiral’s newest addition. Here, thoughts of abstinence are off the menu with a presentation of Catalan-inspired dishes, including marinated sardines, potato and cabbage with lobster, and lightly spiced lamb. A local wine pairing adds to the magic, and I begin to feel that warm wash of wellbeing that comes from being exceptionally well tended, inside and out.
Cryotherapy and photo bio modulation are available in Ireland, including at The Recovery Rooms, and Phoenix Wellness. Treatments at Camiral start at €50, with whole-day programmes including treatments and personal training from €230. Three-day programmes with treatments, consultations, two nights accommodation and meals from €1,070pps. B&B from €299 per room.
Like seaweed baths in the west of Ireland, and variations on the idea of a sauna around the world, some wellness rituals have been developed from centuries-old traditions. Others seem like they may have been dreamed up in the pub.
Saraku Sand Bath Hall, Kagoshima Prefecture, Japan
Get buried up to the neck in naturally heated sands on the thermal island of Kyusu, on the sandy coasts of Ibusuki and Yamakawa. Then gently steam with air currents directly from the centre of the earth. With a backstory like that no wonder they claim it will cure nerve pain, backache and even help with mending broken bones. You’re on the beach, so at the very least the sound of lapping waves with relax you. About €15, ibusuki-saraku.jp. Stay at the nearby Ibusuki Seaside Hotel with rooms from €150 per night.
Hay Bath, Hotel Heubad, Dolomites, Italy
Here’s one that comes under the heading of: Why didn’t we think of this in Ireland? Head to the Dolomite Mountains to loll around wrapped in warm, damp Alpine hay for 20 minutes. After that, you get another half an hour in woolly blankets. A series of six treatments is recommended, with prices from €45 a pop. As any farmer will tell you, fresh-cut hay heats up as it dries, so there’s more to this than you might initially think. Like so many wellness treatments, they promise benefits to the immune system, enhanced circulation and an easing of muscular pain. Single rooms from €90, hotelheubad.com.
Cello Concerto Massage at the Ritz-Carlton, Singapore
Anyone, and we are legion, who finds the plink-plink soundtrack of spas the world over teeth-gratingly tedious, should head to the salubrious surrounds of the Ritz-Carlton Singapore, where your own personal cellist will play live to soothe and synchronise with the strokes of your masseuse. A 60-minute massage, with a 30-minute follow-up bath experience (the mind boggles) costs about €370, while rooms will set you back from €399.
Light Sound Vibration, Potato Head, Seminyak, Bali, Indonesia
Apparently inspired by being in the womb, if you can remember that, LSV lays you on a sonic waterbed with built in vibrational speakers, resonating sound as you lounge in changing light frequencies. Additional noise is added by a team doing things with gongs and didgeridoos. If you reckon that’s for you, it’ll set you back about €50, sanctuary-experience.com. Rooms at Potato Head from about €45 B&B, seminyak.potatohead.co
Nopal Massage at Four Seasons, and Watsu at Castle Hot Springs, Arizona
Sadly for golf fanatics, the Four Seasons in Scottsdale have discontinued its heated golf ball massage. Instead, opt for a Nopal massage, in which you are smoothed all over by a prickly pear cactus. Less excitingly (depending on your idea of excitement) these are culinary grade cacti, so there are no prickles, but you do get all the benefits of their antioxidant, vitamin and mineral goo. Massage from $260, rooms from $395.
Or head to the ultra exclusive Castle Hot Springs where you can dive into Watsu, a divinely soothing treatment that includes being wafted around in warm water, from $295. And if that doesn’t float your boat, try a CBD oil massage to hit spots you perhaps never knew you had at $385. Add Champagne and truffles for another $100. From $1,340 a night.
Sauna Boat, Zurich, Switzerland
Beach saunas are hot stuff in Ireland these days, but the lads on Lake Zurich have upped the ante with floating sauna boats. Book a four-hour cruise for two to six people and dot about the lake while alternately sweating, relaxing on the little deck, or plunging into the waters. About €480. Book the super luxurious La Réserve Eden au Lac, on the other side of the lake. Redesigned to with an inch of its stylish life by Philippe Starck, rooms are from about €630. Or stay closer at the equally cool but less costly Hotel Locke Am Platz from about €240.
