- When it comes to heartbreak, friendship trumps colonics for detoxifying power
“It’s friendship that’s really restored me”
Flush it away. Rinse it through. Clean it out. Symbolically and physically a ‘cleanse’ seemed like a good idea right now.
My friend Nadine Baggott, a fellow beauty journalist/influencer has a wicked sense of humour, PMA and compatible holiday requirements (sun lounger/pool). So is thus the perfect spa partner. She’s an anti depressant in human form.
She wanted to go to kick a caffeine addiction (3 Pro Plus to get out of bed) and sugar cravings (Haribo is her Kryptonite). Oh and to drop 10lbs.
I, well, quite frankly I wanted a bit of a break and to hang out with Baggott. Neither of us anticipated vomit and tears.
We decided to go to Austria, to the VIVAMAYR Maria Wörth clinic.
A week’s stay costs as much as my knackered car.
*Disclaimer: our stay was free so we could review it.
Everyone comes here. When I interviewed Liz Hurley she told me she’d been six months previously. Kate Moss has stayed. Ditto Naomi. Half the fashion firmament are checked in at anyone time.
It’s the place to go to get your gut healthy or prep for the front row.
Actually VIVAMAYR take health very seriously. And says weight loss is just an added bonus.
Out of all the spas I’ve been to it’s the one that lets you cheat the least.
When I arrived Baggott had been there for two days already. She was feeling pretty rough as she withdrew from the Pepsi Max and Pro Plus. Oh and she had eaten very little.
My room was gorgeous. White, bright, over looking Lake Wörthersee , which was a blue as the Caribbean sea. The air felt fresh and pure.
My schedule consisted of plentiful massages. Then osteopathy to address niggles and some nasal reflex therapy (essential oil soaked cotton buds shoved up your nose to clear the pathways.).
I was assigned Dr Debski. She was gorgeous and kind and, in truth, made me want to cry. She weighed me, gave me some powders (one to alkalise my body, another, Magnesium Citrate to make me, er, go). My blood was tested for free radicals. (I scored well here *polishes halo).
At VIVAMAYR they’re all about flushing out toxins. And giving the digestive tract a break. Dr D did a kinesiology test (she pushed against my raised leg whilst sprinkling small amounts of various allergens in my mouth to see whether it made me more or less resistant). I’m slightly skeptical about it, but hell, if it’ll give me her glowy skin I’ll take it.
I did daily morning stretching.
Neither Baggott nor I was prescribed the explosive Epsom salts. Or a colonic.
The food is at mealtimes only. There’s no bar, no mini bar.
I quite liked the food. Nadine did not.
Consequence? I ate all of Nadine’s food.
Egg and avocado for breakfast. Oh and a spelt roll that would break a window. Then something a bit more substantial for lunch (fish/meat and veg), then a bowl of soup and another roll for dinner. It was all local and organic.
By day two I was dreaming about margaritas and salted nuts.
She asked me to relive the worst moments of my recent break upSee Also
Then I had some emotional healing with a psychotherapist called Claudia Kohla. I lay on the bed and she asked me to relive the worst moments of my recent break up and used EMDR (eye movement desensitisation and reprocessing) and trauma therapy. She believes 80% of our blocking (limiting) beliefs come from trauma. She had me follow a moving pointer with my eyes and repeat positive affirmations. I found myself crying till the tears pooled in my ears.
I left lighter but sad.
The next morning Nadine and I met for breakfast. I ate my avocado. Then hers.
She went to the loo. And was gone a while.
I went in search and found her doubled up in the lobby with cramping and nausea and dizziness.
I helped her to her room and called the doctor who gave her a bright orange homeopathic remedy. Which Nadine immediately threw up. I held her hair, stroked her back and then, when it was over, commandeered a wheel chair and pushed her down the corridor to get an IV infusion.
It was like something out of Absolutely Fabulous. Or Little Britain.
She recovered. I recovered.
By the end of the week we were lighter. And with some bad habits broken.
I found myself crying till the tears pooled in my ears.
I write this at the airport where I’m not even tempted to have a latte or a bun.
VIVAMAYR may have given my gut a break (and my brain – no worrying about what’s for dinner…), but it’s friendship that’s really restored me.
You’re not a mate till you’ve held someone’s hair whilst they are being sick. Or listened to their break up woes on repeat.