Grayshott Spa
Globalista | 24 Feb 2013
It appeals to me when I arrive at Grayshott Spa and know from the minute I walk into the entrance hall that I can wear a white robe from now on. ‘You don’t have to worry about labels on your tracksuit or whether you have the correct evening clothes. Just bring trackies and robust walking boots’, was all Vicki Edgson, nutritionist, global spa retreat leader and health consultant, had insisted. ‘The rest of the time, you probably won’t even get out of your dressing gown’.
View transcriptIt appeals to me when I arrive at Grayshott Spa and know from the minute I walk into the entrance hall that I can wear a white robe from now on. ‘You don’t have to worry about labels on your tracksuit or whether you have the correct evening clothes. Just bring trackies and robust walking boots’, was all Vicki Edgson, nutritionist, global spa retreat leader and health consultant, had insisted. ‘The rest of the time, you probably won’t even get out of your dressing gown’. And yes, there is a One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest aspect to the grande dame of spas with its fifty-somethings padding around in slippers and white robes.
Grayshott is under an hour from London and suddenly I am in utter peace and tranquillity and the former country seat of Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Welcome to Comfort Central with Surrey bourgeois décor trying to go modern, gigantic double beds (or two in one football-stadium-sized room), lots of candles, an apple orchard, sauna and comforting middle-aged matrons in white coats.
There’s a cigar room turned bar with a water menu from around the world (and wine); and a billiards room that has morphed into a cinema with pink walls, where they also hold lectures on everything from how to dress to life coaching.
I’m here for a ‘Vital Health – Weight Management’ retreat with Vicki. It’s normally a seven-day retreat, but I plan to do it in two and a half days (but only because I’m on a press trip that doesn’t last longer). Vicki starts from the position that people eat too much and of the wrong things and at the wrong times of the day, which is hardly reinventing the wheel. But this turns out to be not your bog-standard detoxing retreat. She looks at key factors essential for long-lasting, sustainable, empowering energy – known as the Vital Force in Eastern Medicine.
There are eight of us, including two women who have done an extreme diet and lost seven stone between them. We start our retreat in the traditional dining room with a group chat over a plated supper that wouldn’t stretch the stomach of a Chihuahua dog. There’s no going back for seconds; in fact, adding pepper would probably tip the balance into what’s considered over-eating here.
But the food is healthy and terribly good (think grilled fish and saffron gnocchi) and all the better for being eaten after a digestive enzyme tablet, apparently. Plus the accompanying basil water has anti-bacterial qualities. ‘Would you like water or water?’ asks the waitress, offering herb-infused aqua or Grayshott’s own brand. ‘You should be running to the loo every half hour,’ warns Vicki, cheerily.
Vicki tells us that the next few days will be filled with plenty of outdoor cardiovascular exercise, gym circuit class, fresh air, sleep and treatments to help to ‘up-regulate the metabolism,’ (nutritionist speak for fat-burning.) This is to be interspersed with stuff to calm the nerves – mind-relaxing T’ai Chi, Chi Gung, yoga and suchlike – to prepare us for ‘proper, restorative’ sleep.
In between, we will be meeting for three meals a day – breakfast being the largest, lunch being of the help yourself variety, (don’t get excited: they give you a teeny Grayshott plate with coloured stripes denoting how much each of protein, carbs and greens you can have,) and supper the lightest, (think a palm-sized portion).
We will also be knocking back our body fluid ratio in herbal teas: cayenne pepper and lemon in the morning to stimulate liver and cleansing; turmeric (if you want something that tastes like a half-washed take-away curry container); Japanese Hojicha tea for balancing the stress hormones (known as an adaptogen, as needed by the adrenal glands); and Harmonise tea instead of Mogadon.
We are up early for a racy walk around what feels like most of the 700 autumnal acres of National Trust land that backs onto Grayshott’s 47 acres. It’s exhilarating. Then there’s a jam-packed schedule. It’s not faddish, essentially English and does what matters incredibly well. The therapists are unrivalled (one was a masseur here for 40 years; and most of them have worked here for more than 20 years) and the treatments range from beautifying treats to Hopi Ear Candling and food intolerance analysis. But we follow Vicki’s directives when it comes to treatments; when it comes to everything, in fact.
I have a Body Composition Analysis with Ravi (a personal trainer and International and World Cup hockey player) who promises I’ll get taller afterwards (it’s something to do with tightening my muscles, if I remember correctly). He measures my water, protein, fat and mineral content. Then I have an Oriental Wisdom with Catherine which is unique to Grayshott and one of the best massages I’ve ever had. It incorporates Tui-na massage, Shiatsu, oils with Chinese herbs and a bit of magic.
There’s my back massage with Pam from Bradford who delights me as much with her talents honed over decades as her tales of when she was a Young Communist. And the body scrub where I’m slavered in algae and wrapped in plastic like a demented fish roll. We also do a walking mediation, wandering the beautiful grounds together in silence. ‘I don’t mind if you hug a tree,’ laughs our guide Faye, who oozes spirituality and has worked in hospices. It’s the staff who make Grayshot: they’re friendly, helpful and make me feel so mothered.
We spend much of our time with Vicki, a friendly hurricane with boundless energy and a TV presenter’s presentation. She’s also a numero uno exhibit of the glow, pert bum and cheery disposition that comes from fitness, good food and a positive attitude to life. ‘We all have a choice about our own wellbeing,’ she says. Later she asks us to think about what we’d do if we had two hours to ourselves every day. It may be boring that I say I’d like to read but it makes me decide to implement changes in my life.
Over our time together, Vicki proves that eating more slowly, (she terms this ‘conscious eating’ but really it’s masticating and not nearly as much fun as it’s semiotic cousin); selecting the right balance of foods for each individual (she suggests I miss out sugar and caffeine); and addressing eating issues, (show me a woman who doesn’t have any, and I’ll show you a liar) are key to changing our attitude to our appearance and weight. Each of us in the group has specific difficulties that need to be addressed, and Vicki works with forensic focus to ensure that we all have our own plan by the time we leave. Mine includes vitamin recommendations and a visit to Dr Marion Gluck, London’s hormonal health guru and one of the country’s leading holistic doctors.
The group dynamic is vital for the success of this type of retreat. ‘You may not want to sit down to yet another meal with everyone here every day,’ says Vicki. But, surprisingly, eating together is a hoot. Even more surprisingly I feel full after the food that we’re given. We learn a lot about nutrition and listening to other women’s problems around their food habits and addictions is enlightening. ‘It’s a sharing and caring atmosphere, with much laughter and empathy, isn’t it?’ says Vicki. I leave with a smile on my lips, a bounce in my step, a little less lardy and feeling totally refreshed. Even my lingering cold stays behind in Surrey.