There’s a llama nuzzling my chin. Her name is Truffle, she’s just turned 16-months-old and I’m about to take her for a walk.

I first became aware of the phenomenon of llama treks last year, over in Ireland watching a travel programme about a trip to a B&B in the countryside. Where they had llamas. And people took these llamas for a walk and it was calming, and it was restful, and it looked wonderful – a new form of mindfulness (being in the moment with a llama) and a more interesting way of meditating (thinking about a llama while walking). I googled llama treks and found a few places around Ireland that offered them. I read up on them all, then returned to London and did nothing more about it.
But the llama universe was clearly looking out for me. Because just six weeks later I had an invite from the Merry Harriers Inn in Surrey – not too far from where I live – for an overnight visit. And they had llamas…

I meet all ten of the llamas before we set off on the trek. Mungo is coming with us – he’s a few years older than Truffle and he’ll be walking with Fi – she’s a human (who says she has the best job in the world, leading llama treks year-round, weather permitting). I also meet Lorenzo, the baby of the family, just 8-months-old and too young yet for treks.
Llamas are friendly creatures, curious and loving and beautiful to look at. They are the stuff of viral videos. And they smile. Kittens – so over!

The only thing is, because they have three stomachs, they really like to eat a lot, spend 16 hours a day feeding – and don’t intend to stop just because they’re walking. So, I spend a substantial amount of the time trying to coax Truffle out of the hedges and away from foliage as we walk. With my inordinate charm? No, with a box of carrots, literally dangling a carrot in front of her to move her along. It’s quite a treat having her snuffle them out of my open palm though. Llamas, it turns out, also have ridiculously soft faces.
Treks take a couple of hours through the fields and countryside paths behind the Merrier Harriers inn. Or you can make a real trip of it and take a picnic (the llamas will carry the picnic basket and you can even have champagne).
When I’m not hanging out with llamas, I’m chilling in my shepherd’s hut or hobnobbing with the locals in the bar. There are five luxury huts set up in a field across the road from the inn and if this is a shepherd’s life, sign me up for a flock and crook now.

The inn also has accommodation in rooms over the pub or in pretty garden huts out the back (with views of the llamas). The inn itself is a 16the century pub – watercolours of it hang in Tate Britain – and serves food all day, with much of the produce sourced locally (some of it from their own garden).

The nearest station is Milford and trains run every hour from Clapham Junction, journey time is 40 minutes and then it’s a 10-minute taxi ride to the inn. If you’re driving, it’s off the A3 – follow the signs Milford and Haslemere.
The Merry Harriers is located in Hambledon in the Surrey Hills Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. It is rather outstandingly beautiful. But mainly, there are llamas.

OWN YOUR OWN LLAMA (mug): And now, the smiling llama has become immortalised in ‘mug’ – as part of a fundraising appeal to raise money for Macmillan Cancer Support, set up by Lenses of Croydon. Photographer Robert Wilson Jr is a member of the group and donated this fabulous llama pic as part of the project. Read more and buy the mug here. (Other mugs are also available!)

I also wrote about the experience for The Scotsman – you can read the article here (it’s on page 2 – don’t panic

The Merry Harriers, Hambledon Road, Surrey GU8 4DR; phone 01428 682883; email enquiries@merryharriers.com. Inn rooms from £115 per night, garden rooms £110, shepherds’ huts £195, B&B

Photos copyright Rob Wilson Jnr at Fluid4Sight and Merry Harriers

After a week of wind and rain and a storm called Brendan (Brendan, seriously?), the hip replacement playing up (sometimes I wonder if they actually left the old one in) and general January “bleh”, Sunday’s glorious sunshine was like a bolt of energy from a beautiful blue sky. The weather called for a walk – and a proper walk, none of your urban strolling around a city park.

I went to Woldingham – 15 minutes from East Croydon on the train. Mainly because I like the name (it also happens to be the next station after Upper Warlingham, try being the announcer on that train with a hangover). But also because looking at the map of the area surrounding Croydon, Woldingham is on the edge of a big green bit.

I downloaded the All Trails app before I set off so I could follow a walking route – it was useless. I could see an overview of a possible route but to download the detail would have cost me a year’s subscription fee. So I did it the old-fashioned way and printed – yes, printed – the Woldingham Countryside Walk.

From information board outside Woldingham station, turn right along Church Road. Just before Church Road Farm, turn right over railway bridge and left towards Marden Park Farm. Continue up gently sloping bridleway, taking in views across the valley.

This is proper countryside – glorious vistas and sweeping views, made all the better by that huge expanse of blue sky and sunshine. There’s still signs of this morning’s frost, as well last week’s rains and God is that ‘gently sloping bridleway’ muddy. Don’t try this with trainers.

Bear right on tarmac road and then left through iron gates on to Horse Chestnut Avenue. Worth a look back to see view of 19th century mansion, once part of the Marden Park estate, established by Sir Robert Clayton, Lord Mayor of London.

Right, so I can’t see any sight of the 19th century mansion but it’s still a very nice view. Lord Clayton was a local 17th century politician, owned a bank and rebuilt St Thomas’ Hospital in London, though clearly had nothing to do with the mansion, which is now Woldingham School.

At South Lodge, bear left and then turn immediately left through squeeze gap into Marden Park. Climb steep 200m section of path with care.

It was steep but the view from the top of the hill was worth it – looking over Godstone and Bletchingley and, according to my map, views as far as the South Downs on a clear day. Which was news to me. I thought I was in the South Downs. But no. Turns out this is the North Downs.

The North Downs, according to my info, has inspired the likes of JM Turner, Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. Winston Churchill and Charles Darwin both lived nearby. The North Downs Way runs 153 miles from Surrey into Kent, following the Pilgrims Way to Canterbury Cathedral. Being fond of a cathedral, I like the idea of walking to Canterbury. But that’s for another day.

For now, I’m veering off my guided walk, 3 miles in. There’s another 3 miles to go if I want to stay on this route and end up back at Woldingham station. But a wander back down the hill to South Lodge leads me to “ancient woodland”.

Then this.

No, I wasn’t expecting that either. But then this.

So I follow the path down the road towards the vineyard, walking into clear blue sky.

And I come to this!

Result! Godstone Vineyard, a winery, cafe and wine shop bang in the middle of my healthy countryside walk. In the sunshine. So I take off my mucky boots, sit outside in the sunshine and a very nice lady brings me a cream tea.

The vineyard was set up in 1985 and currently produces about 15,000 bottles of local sparkling wine every year from its 10 acres. I had a small sample of both wines they produce – the white (excellent) and the rose (even more excellent, fine bodied and not the slightly wishy washy liquid rose can often be). Then I sat for another while in the sun, sipping a glass of sparkling wine, and thinking how much I love countryside walks. No wonder they’re so popular. I’m really looking forward to my next one.

(Just to finish off, I should probably say that after tea and a scone with jam and a glass of wine, plus a couple of small wine samples, I couldn’t face the next 3 miles to complete the walk – especially since I’d wandered off the route to the vineyard. So I got an Uber to take me the couple of miles to Caterham station, and from there got a bus to East Croydon. Countryside walks. Fabulous.)

Day 1

It’s the day after the hottest day of the year. Two Uber drivers have just cancelled my booking, so I take my walking stick and my suitcase and haul myself and it onto the bus. I arrive at East Croydon train station, knowing already I’ve missed the train I wanted to catch.

It doesn’t matter. The heat is still melting overhead lines and the train schedules are up the walls. Eventually I get on one, arrive at Horsham exactly one hour later than planned and jump in a taxi for the 20-minute drive to the Simply Healing Retreat, where I’m about to have nothing except juice for 3 days.

A call on my mobile from the engineer who’s arrived to fix my internet, claiming he’s outside my house getting no response to the bell – I know my flatmate is in there – means I arrive in a cloud of expletives, trying to reassure the man he will get in, calling my flatmate to see where the hell he is, phoning my upstairs neighbour to see if she’s around and scaring the taxi driver, who drives off quickly after leaving me at the door.

I stand outside a rather lovely red-bricked country house surrounded by gardens and rolling fields, shouting into my phone as somebody tiptoes out of the house, picks up my suitcase and takes it inside, smiling and nodding at me, telling me to take my time.

I hang up and take a deep breath. Here the heat isn’t as oppressive as in London, there’s a gentle breeze and rustling leaves. There are sunloungers and sculptures in the gardens and a hanging swing under some trees. I step inside to a quiet peaceful space with couches, take another breath and think, wow, I’m glad I didn’t come shouting in here.

Later, after I’ve checked into my room – a gorgeous light-filled space with views of the garden – changed into my robe and padded back down in my slippers to the treatment room for my body scrub, I feel totally relaxed.I’ve left bad Uber drivers, messed up trains, mixed up internet appointments and my grumpy self behind. And because I had a big hunk of bread and blue cheese before I left the house, I don’t yet feel hungry.

At 4.30 there’s ‘afternoon (herbal) tea’ at reception (just tea, no sandwiches, cake or scones sadly) and I meet some of my fellow ‘inmates’ who’ve been here a few days. Two of them say they’ve done nothing but sleep for their first full day and I think, good on you, sleep is hugely underrated in this life. There are 8 of us here for the weekend, everybody has their own story, all of us wanting to detox and relax for one reason or another.

It’s a great place to swap stories and information and most people here have come on personal recommendations so I hear many positive Simply Healing success stories. The guests who’ve been here for a few days are already looking refreshed and glowing – ‘honestly, you wouldn’t believe the difference in her since she arrived’, one man tells me about a fellow guest, and I wonder if I’ll be radiant too when I leave. Then I go out to the garden and spend half an hour swinging on the lounger under the trees.

At 5.30pm I have my first juice – something green with celery – and then meditation at 7 – a guided journey led by Vivien, the shamanic healer who runs the retreat. And I’m delighted to find that at 7.30 we have soup! Detox soup albeit – pea, lettuce and mint – but soup nonetheless. My teeth fall excitedly on shreds of lettuce and two whole peas, chewing enthusiastically.

I don’t start to feel hungry until around about 9pm, back in my room, tucked up for the night. There are TVs and DVD players in our rooms – with lots of DVDs to borrow from the big book-filled sitting room downstairs – but we’re encouraged to keep the volume low to allow others to rest, with everything turned off by 10.30pm. Mobiles are not allowed in the public areas and we’re reminded to speak softly when using them in our rooms.

My stomach is rumbling uncomfortably but – prepared for hunger – I’ve brought the latest Jo Nesbo thriller with me, Knife. If the antics of his depressed alcoholic detective Harry Hole can’t keep my mind off food, nothing can.

Day 2

I’ve gone to sleep starving, fantasising about juicy burgers smothered in fried onions and blue cheese. I rarely eat burgers, much less blue cheese, my detox seems to have uncovered my inner burger fan. But I wake up at 7am feeling okay. Not hungry. Not full. Just normal.

There’s hot water with lemon at reception where we detoxers discuss our night’s sleep (up every hour to pee, recounts one – toxins clearly coming out). There should have been a walk around the deer farm and through the fields this morning but, unlike yesterday’s searing temperatures, today is grey and wet.

Then it’s time for juice at 8.30am, which is served communal style in the large dining room. I spotted a biscuit barrel in the corner as soon as I walked in here yesterday – sadly empty (natch).

There’s a nice social aspect to the retreat, as we all gather together to drink juice, but it’s easy to have as much time as you want to yourself also – everybody has their own schedule of timed treatments.

There’s an exercise room with power plates and a chi machine, which is an interesting piece of equipment. Big with the Japanese, it works by moving the legs gently from side to side to circulate blood efficiently around the body, helping cells to absorb oxygen and remove toxins. Chi is the Chinese word for ‘life force energy’ and our life force energies can do with a helping hand from time to time.

I have reflexology at 9am, a lovely treatment that establishes I have no major issues with my body parts – replaced hip aside. I find reflexology fascinating. A sort of foot massage for the soles of the feet, it claims that every part of the body is connected to the bottom of the foot and by working on each section of the foot, therapists can help to heal the related body part. Sound crazy? I’ve had very accurate diagnoses from it, so don’t rule it out even though Wikipedia will tell you there “is no convincing evidence that reflexology is effective for any medical condition”. And I’m told I look “blissful” by one of the other guests after my treatment – so don’t tell me there is no benefit to this!

Then it’s juice at 11, 1 and 2.30, afternoon tea at 4.30, more juice at 5.30, meditation at 7 and carrot and sweet potato soup at 7.30. I also have a manual lymphatic drainage massage at 1.30 so it’s a packed schedule here – no lazing around detoxing for us! It does help to keep hunger at bay for a while – all that wandering down to the dining room, going for treatments, strolling out to the garden to sit on a sun-lounger. And all that drinking of juice – all freshly prepared, a different recipe each time. And I probably should point out that nobody else on the retreat feels hungry as they are all taking supplements with their juices to help with their cleansing. Just me then…

I’ve practically been put into a coma by my lunchtime massage, so deeply relaxing is the experience, so have to indulge in a half-hour nap back in my room. Where they’ve thoughtfully replaced yesterday’s velvet throw with a snuggly fur one in deference to the weather.

But despite it all, I’m still hungry by early evening, with the beginnings of a slight headache. I’ve had to stop reading the second book I’ve brought with me, Is Butter A Carb? Unpicking Fact from Fiction in the World of Nutrition. All that talk of proteins and fats is making me salivate.

I go for a walk with a few of my companions around the next-door deer farm to keep my mind off it. No deer in sight. Probably just as well. I can’t stop thinking about venison. There’s a slight uphill incline on the way home which has us all puffing slightly and for some God unknown reason, we’ve talked about nothing but food on the entire journey.

Still, that night I turn on the lamps in my bedroom, cosy up with my fur blanket on the couch, and let Harry Hole take my mind off everything again.

Day 3: the final day

I’m definitely hungry when I wake up on day 3 but also happy, looking forward to the salad I will be having for lunch. Yes, it’s my last day today and I get to have a salad before I go, introducing my body back to solids gradually. Vivien, who runs Simply Healing, recommends that we introduce light food gradually once we leave, stick to the juicing and carry on drinking the four bottles of water we’re encouraged to take every day. We’re all issued with water bottles with our names on them on arrival and I’ve been carrying mine with me everywhere.

Vivien is an interesting person. A trainer healer and shaman, she has run the Simply Healing Retreat in Sussex for the past 20 years and counts celebrities and Royal Families among her guests. She has worked all over the world, starting in California where she introduced her juice retreats 30 years ago, after using the technique to manage her own health issues. She’s run healing clinics all over the UK and Ireland, led pilgrimages to sacred sites in Peru, Egypt and Mexico and still leads tours to meet the shamans of Manu Picchu every year.

The Sussex retreat has a massive 68% visitor return rate and there’s no doubt from leafing through the visitors’ book at reception that guests have experienced amazing benefits from their time here. With people returning for the second, third and fourth times, comments describe the programmes as “life-changing”, “heart-warming”, “mind-opening” and “amazing – didn’t want to leave”. “I lost my weight and found myself” says one poignant entry.

Guests also pay tribute to the support they receive from staff – all of the therapists are highly qualified and experienced and have worked with Vivien for many years, because “they like it here”, she explains. Running the retreat with her daughter, she bought the house to open it to others and carry on her healing work. In addition to the prescribed detox and weight-loss programmes, additional treatments, including one-to-one sessions with Vivien herself, are available as add-ons. Groups are kept small, 12 guests is the maximum number the house can hold but 10 is the average – the weekend I visit, there are just 8 of us.

And while our bodies have sophisticated mechanism for detoxing themselves – namely our liver, kidneys, gut, skin and lungs (as my nutrition book Is Butter A Carb? reminded me before hunger drove me to put it down) – it really does help to step out of our busy lives occasionally to take a good look at how we’re eating and how we’re living. It’s easy to get into bad habits when life is too rushed, too fast, too stressed – and it’s of no help at all to our guts, liver, kidneys and the rest to live like this.

Having a routine is a good way to make a change and I enjoy the regular juice times during the retreat, vowing to stick to something similar back at home. Most of my days kick off to an erratic start, with lots of rushing around. Making time in the morning to take some juice, eat a mindful breakfast and fill up a water bottle is a much better option – it will just take a bit of organising.

And now it’s time for me to leave. I’ve had my detox massage after my morning juice, taken a stroll around the grounds, drank more juice, rocked in the swing, eaten my lunch-time salad and had a quick chat with Vivien – she gives each guest a personalised one-to-one consultation before they leave, offering advice on incorporating elements of the detox diet into everyday life.

Okay, I admit it, I had a bar of chocolate as soon as I got to the train station for the journey home. And it tasted glorious. But since I’ve been back I’ve continued to juice every morning, keep a water bottle beside me to sip from throughout the day and am eating lots of fresh vegetables and fruit.

My skin looks clearer and my eyes are brighter. I feel a bit lighter, less bloated. But more importantly, I have a healthy routine now which fits in easily with my everyday lifestyle. While our bodies don’t constantly need to go through the extremes of detoxing, it’s certainly useful to take a step back and re-adjust bad habits. It has certainly helped me.

Read my Simply Healing review in The Scotsman

The Simply Healing Detox Retreat, West Sussex, offers 5, 7 or 10 day detox and weight-loss programmes, as well as weekend retreats; for more information visit www.simplyhealingcentre.com, call 01403 822117 or email info@simplyhealingcentre.com

The heart-breaking job of burying the dead was still underway in Sri Lanka this week when three cornered suicide bombers blew themselves up on Friday night during a security forces operation, killing 15 others, including six children.

Another devastating blow for the people of Sri Lanka who last week, on Easter Sunday, witnessed their country racked apart when suicide bombers took up position in three churches and three luxury hotels and detonated their terrible packages. A statement from Isis said that churches and hotels with foreign guests from “crusader” countries had been struck.

I was one of those “crusading guests” who visited Sri Lanka last September, staying at the Shangri-La hotel in Colombo, having breakfast in that same dining room that was last week ripped apart by two bomb blasts that killed entire families.

I chatted to the friendly staff, met many kind people who welcomed us to the hotel and Sri Lanka, delighted that after many years of civil war in their country, tourists were now returning and boosting the economy, providing jobs and income. (Twenty-six years of fighting between the government and the Tamils ended just ten years ago).

The driver who picked us up at the airport at 4.30am stopped his car as he drove through the dark city so he could buy us two fresh coconuts from the early morning stall-holders who were just setting up by the river. We drank coconut milk as the sun came up and the driver told us how happy he was we had come to his country. (He also told us how delighted he was to see my friend Rob’s dreadlocks – “the first time I have ever seen hair like this,” he said)

Later that day we zipped through the city streets in a tuk-tuk – presented with more fresh coconuts by our driver Rex as we climbed abroad.

We wound our way through the traffic as people waved from neighbouring scooters, children laughing as we overtook them, waving furiously with wide smiles as they overtook us.

We met groups of men in the Spice Market who wanted to come and shake our hands and have their photo taken by Rob. With wide smiles and thumbs up they posed madly. And later, one man who had stayed outside of the group shyly approached Rob to ask if he could have his picture taken too.

We learned the history of Sri Lanka’s proud past in the tea shops, ate lunch with locals in the market – the men sitting with us at the communal tables gesturing at the staff to bring me some cutlery, so that I wouldn’t have to look like a foreign idiot eating with my hand as they did.

We went down streets that have only been opened recently to the public following the years of fighting, the bullet holes still clearly visible in the walls. And everywhere we went we found friendliness and kindness – Rob is still in touch with many of the people we met on our visit.

Yesterday the British government issued a statement advising against travel to Sri Lanka, except in essential cases. The country will suffer loss of income from foreign travellers and no doubt many of the people we met will lose their jobs. Another heart-break.

But while the bombers have wrecked great destruction and tremendous horror on the country, they can’t take away its spirit – the spirit of kindness, friendliness and welcome. The welcome that the suicide bomber who entered the Protestant Zion church in Batticaloa received from the pastor’s teenage son – killed moments later – is unutterably poignant and heart-rending.

But kindness and love will win out over hatred and hostility. I believe this. I believe that the spirit of the Sri Lankan people will win. And people will return to the country again, to show solidarity and to show those that attempt to spread fear and hate, that you will not succeed.

Christian churches and western style hotels were targeted in the hate attacks. Only just over 7% of the country is Christian. 9% is Muslim, 12% is Hindu and the overwhelming majority, 70% of the 20m Sri Lankan population, are Theravada Buddhists. There are 6,000 Buddhist monasteries in Sri Lanka, over 15,000 Buddhist monks and thousands and thousands of temples.

Theravada is the most ancient form of Buddhism, a practice that teaches its followers to develop the qualities of awareness, kindness and wisdom to reach a state of complete freedom from any spiritual, emotional or mental restrictions or limitations. It teaches that nothing is fixed or permanent, actions have consequences and change is possible. And so I believe that hate doesn’t have to be permanent, that change is possible.

On our last day in Sri Lanka, having travelled to the south of the country, we visited one of the temples – Mulkirigala Rock Temple, where we climbed over 500 steps to visit seven caves on five terraces, with their ornate wall paintings and huge reclining Buddhas. We met a monk called Siriniwasa, who was wary at first when Rob, having asked our guide if it would be appropriate to ask for a photo, approached him.

And after posing for a few photos with his young Buddhist apprentices, he eventually whipped out a mobile phone from under his robes and asked if Rob could take a photo of them all with it. I was eventually persuaded into the group to take photos of Rob with the monks, all of them beaming furiously. By now fast friends, Siriniwasa asked Rob to help them plant a tree and he did, there at the top of Mulkirigala, everybody delighted with their new found friendship.

I’ll go back to Sri Lanka again. I’ll go back to see the people we met, to see how they’re coping and to see if Rob’s tree has grown. I very much look forward to it.

******

I first wrote about my trip to Sri Lanka for The Scotsman newspaper and it was published in December 2018 using Rob’s photos

There’s an elephant standing a few metres away from our jeep in Sri Lanka’s Udawalawe National Park, engaged in a very elaborate breakfast routine. Kicking the grass to loosen it, he tugs it free, then rolls it painstakingly with his trunk, constantly repeating the process over and over – kicking, tugging, rolling – an awful lot of hard work to make each small mouthful.

So far this morning we’ve seen elephants, spotted deer and water buffalo as well as a myriad of birds. But the most magical moment of all was on our way to the elephant transit centre, where abandoned baby elephants are cared for before being introduced back into the wild, when a – clearly selfie-conscious – large male elephant came to the edge of the road for a photo.

Standing the other side of a thin wire fence where a few other jeeps had also pulled up, he moved over to each new arrival, waiting patiently until they’d had their photo taken with him before moving on to the next group. “This is such kindness,” said our guide Palinder in wonder as we snapped away furiously.

Read the rest of the article published in The Scotsman…

All photos by Rob Wilson Jnr, Fluid4Sight

‘The Isle of Wight is how England was 40 years ago.’

So says David Barratt, my host on the island and owner of the very beautiful Haven Hall.

Forty years ago. 1978. Labour was in power, James Callaghan was Prime Minister and people stopped hunting the otter as it became a protected species. May Day became a bank holiday, the world’s first IVF baby was born in Oldham and bakers and the BBC went on strike. The Bee Gees’ ‘Night Fever’ was number one for two months and Annie Hall won the Oscar for Best Film.

But I can’t really pass judgement on how England was back then. I was a 9-year-old in the west of Ireland, just discovering Top of the Pops but already an aficionado of Blue Peter and – previously – Play School. So I had plenty of English cultural references, but from the far side of the Irish sea.

But I can tell you how the Isle of Wight is right now.

Good. In a word.

Or in two words. Very good.

If by ‘England 40 years ago, he means a slower, steadier, calmer pace of life, then yes, that’s spot on. It’s a place where people chat to you on buses and the buses take you on scenic drives through beautiful countryside. It’s not the most efficient way to travel – my half-an-hour drive from West Cowes, where the Southampton passenger ferry docks, to Haven Hall at Shanklin beach takes almost two hours on two buses.

But if you’re happy to sit back and take in the scenery, the picture-perfect villages with thatched cottages and trailing roses, the green fields stretching away to golden beaches, and you’ve got a leisurely day to spend, then why would you rush through it? This is slow living at its best.

But you can do it faster. The total journey time from London Waterloo to Haven Hall is two and a half hours if you take the fast ferry to the island and on to Shanklin by train. A new Red Funnel passenger ferry has just been launched, which is lighter, more efficient, more manoeuvrable, quieter and smoother. It takes just 25 minutes to speed across from Southampton and if you arrive by train, a free shuttle bus will take you to the ferry terminal with ferries running every half hour. If you’re driving, the car ferry crosses every hour from Southampton to East Cowes.

If you’re coming from London or the South East, it’s a quick and easy journey – and, at the end of it, here you are on the edge of an island with cliffside walks to the beach. Two acres of beautifully planted landscaped gardens overlook the sea and local resident Alan Titchmarsh voted this the Best Commercial Garden 2017 for Isle of Wight in Bloom. The Hall’s other celebrity fans include actor Colin Firth, who has visited with his family twice, footballer Peter Crouch and his wife Abi Clancy and comedian Jimmy Carr.

There’s an outdoor swimming pool that’s solar heated to a comfortable 26 degrees on the day I visit, grass tennis courts, sunloungers on the lawns and a pergola that is more in the nature of a beautiful piece of sculpture, set in the gardens looking out to sea. And there’s a cliffside walk to the beach where you can eat at Fisherman’s Cottage, sitting at an outside table, just a few feet away from the waves lapping on the sand.

The hall has 14 bespoke bedrooms with sea views, which includes seven apartments, all individually designed by David’s wife Arielle. The couple bought the property, a run-down Edwardian mansion built as a private home in 1908 and run as a hotel since the 1950s, because of its location and their dream of what it could become. But not without a considerable amount of work. Its last incarnation, a hostel for school children in the 1970s, saw its grand spaces converted into a warren of tiny rooms stacked with bunk beds.

“The contractor said year and a half to complete it and we were reasonably happy with that and the budget that was allocated for it,” said David. The project went on to take four and a half years to finish at almost four times the original budget.

“You take the wallpaper down and the plaster falls off the wall, you discover the wiring is terrible and if you’re re-doing the wiring, you might as well re-do the plumbing. If you’re doing that, then why not add air conditioning, and soon you find you’re taking most of the roof off as well,” he explains ruefully. “I fired the first two project managers and ended up doing the job myself. At any one time we had up to 55 workmen on the site, 3 people working full time renovating period furniture and 11 shipping containers storing everything we were buying at auction to kit it all out.”

And while they might not have had to move heaven to achieve their dreams, they certainly had to move earth – several hundred tonnes of it, completely remodelling the grounds to make the most of the stunning location and its spectacular view.

The couple lived on the property through the renovations, “either in a sea of mud or a cloud of dust,” says David. But he is no stranger to complex building projects.

Originally from Newcastle, he spent all of his working life in California and Hawaii, running his own property companies. He left England, he explains, because he didn’t want to live in the shadow of his father, the man who built Britain’s largest building company, Barratt Homes. Sir Lawrie Barratt was “a hard act to follow,” says David.

“He lived through the war, built his own billion-pound company and was knighted by the Queen. He valued working for yourself, so he didn’t want me to work for him or anybody else. He gave me enough money to set myself up so I went to the US and made all of my own mistakes.”

But he still missed the UK. “I enjoyed the US but there were parts of England I was always yearning for, like Radio 4 and intelligence.”

Moving back to the UK when his father was ill, he ended up divorcing when his daughter went to university and meeting Arielle while he was living in London. An art graduate from Yale and the Slade School – whose keen eye for design is evident throughout Haven Hall – the pair wanted to find a home together, looking at various parts of the south of England and then – as he describes it – “discovering” the Isle of Wight.

Describing this period as the next stage of their lives, he explains that they had to find what they wanted to do. “I didn’t want to just be someone on the golf course who used to do something. Both of us are do-ers, we’re both creative and we love meeting new people.”

Now he’s combined his passions. An island haven that is home, where he can entertain people from all over the world. They’ve been coming since the start of the year when the hotel opened its doors – from international worlds of culture, politics, business and entertainment; CEOs, high court judges and Colin Firth. And in this picture-perfect setting perched high over the ocean, no doubt it will continue.

For more information and to book visit www.havenhall.uk, phone 07914 796 494 or email info@havenhall.co.uk

Where to go and what to do on the Isle of Wight – see our top recommendations here

I shivered when I got the email. Would I like to take part in a Best Life retreat – ‘a chance to take a step back and think about the year ahead in a luxurious but relaxed environment’?
 
Visions of hand-holding, chanting and baring my soul in front of hundreds of people danced before me. But it was being hosted in the luxury 5-star Grove hotel, there would be massage and beautiful gardens, 3-course dinners and miles of countryside. And, anyway, didn’t I want to take a good look at my life and make some changes to make it better? With the New Year in sight, the answer was yes.

 
What’s a Best Life retreat?
 
Nina Grunfeld, the life coach who leads the Best Life retreat, set up Life Clubs in 2004 and currently runs private and corporate workshops throughout the UK and abroad. She is the author of several books, including The Life Book. And I’m pleased to see she doesn’t look like somebody who is ever likely to break into a chant. Instead she’s pleasant, cheerful, practical and quietly inspirational; she looks like somebody I could be friends with.
 
The Best Life retreat takes place over two days, with two hour-and-a-half workshops and plenty of time in-between for reflection, relaxation and a chance to sample the loveliness of the Grove hotel. There are eight of us in the Best Life group and nothing we’re asked to do is extremely challenging; tasks revolve around thinking, writing and talking in small groups.

I find it really refreshing to take some time to stand back and take a good look at my life, and hardly bat an eyelid when I find myself paired up with the person on my left, discussing my hopes and fears quite candidly. (Group work takes place in pairs or groups of three, don’t worry, you won’t be forced to ‘reveal’ yourself to the entire room.)
 
What I liked about the sessions were how normal they felt, nothing was forced and everything was very practical – I didn’t feel I had to come up with any grand philosophies for my life. It was more about making small changes, creating some practical to-do lists rather than making giant leaps and tearing my soul apart on the table.

In fact, it was a bit like a good conversation on a night out with friends – though with a lot more structure, over a longer period of time and without the hangover. The difference was the presence of Nina, who throughout the sessions provided a gentle guiding hand and helpful insights based on years of experience and – as I quickly picked up – a keen intuition.
 
Time for a bit of ‘best life’ pampering
 
And of course the gorgeous setting of the Grove hotel played its own part in helping me enjoy my first steps to a better life. After the first session we had dinner in the bistro-style setting of The Stables restaurant. Set apart from the main hotel it has the air of a cosy club and is nicely secluded. And the next day I had a deep massage with Chris in the Sequoia Spa. As one of the group later comments ‘I could feel the toxins literally flowing out of me during the treatment’.
 
It’s the first time I’ve ever had a male masseuse and the stretching and deep tissue work is just what I need. An inspiration himself; a baker for 20 years (all that bread kneading was great training) and a keen amateur rugby player, he decided to retrain as a sports therapist, loved the massage part of the course and made it his profession. Afterwards, I head to the pool area – no, not to swim, but to continue the ‘chillaxing’ vibe.

 
Returning to my room in the 16th century manor house building, I feel quite spoiled. The centuries-old feeling is preserved – corridors are hung with heavy velvet drapes and veiled lights lining the passageway give the effect of flickering oil lamps. So it’s a real surprise to enter the ultra modern bedroom with uber stylish glass armchairs, a white metal love seat and a very contemporary take on a four poster bed. I love the design and the new-meets-old works very well in the high-ceilinged sash-windowed space.

 
Back at the ‘Best Life’: the final session
 
Some very interesting things happen in our final session. One of the ‘practical goals’ I have set for myself is to take a course in Indian head massage. My partner for this exercise is a trained masseuse and gives me some useful guidelines. My next partner has listed some work contacts she wants to make as her practical goal. Turns out I have worked with some of the people on her list and point her in the right direction.

I’m not saying that everybody will end up sitting beside someobdy who can help them achieve their goals. But it does go to prove that talking to strangers can be very interesting and often more rewarding than you might have expected.
 
What happened next?
 
And how has my life changed since the retreat? Well I’ve just completed a one-day course in Indian head massage and have my first certificate!
 
For reservations at the hotel go to www.thegrove.co.uk or call 01923 294 288; The Grove, Chandler’s Cross, Hertfordshire WD3 4TG

My ‘healing’ weekend in Austria starts with the crashing sound of the Ryanair bugle announcing ‘another on-time Ryanair flight’ as we touch down at Salzburg airport. Why do they do this?

I mentally replace it with ‘The hills are alive with the sound of music’ as my taxi winds its way high into the mountains skirting the city. Everywhere is covered with a light dusting of snow and as we climb higher, the landscape becomes even more stunning, soaring high peaks dropping to deep valleys with winding valleys and occasional waterfalls.

It’s a healing in itself to look out at the snow-covered rooftops of the beautiful Alpine houses. All around there are fir trees covered in snow. I think of the pictures on Christmas cards from my childhood and feel happy, remembering all that excitement and wonder.

An hour into the mountains and we reach our destination. I chortle with delight. I appear to have stepped INTO a Christmas card from my childhood. The Hotel Grüner Baum is set deep in the Kotschachal valley of Bad Gastein, 1,000 metres above sea level. It’s a collection of traditional timbered buildings set across 70 acres on the edge of Hohe Tauren National Park and has been owned and run by the Blumschein family for four generations. Each one has added a new building to their inheritance, the great-grandparents having the good sense to buy the entire valley as well as the small hunting lodge that is now the main hotel building.

I’m here for the thermal springs of Bad Gastein.

The springs have attracted a whole host of celebrities since their discovery in the 19th century – emperors and kings, politicians and artists, actors and writers have all made their way here. I read through the hotel guest book and see they’re still coming – among the recent entries are Jude Law, Liza Minnelli, King Hassan of Morocco and the entire Dutch royal family.

Healing caves in the mountain

I’m also here for the Heilstollen galleries – the ‘healing caves’ of Bad Gastein. Thousands of people flock here every year looking for relief from arthritis and other bone and joint disorders. Back in the 1940s, miners drilling for gold realised that joint pains miraculously vanished once they were deep inside the mountain caves. Word spread and the first visitors arrived to experience the ‘cure’ in 1952. They’ve been coming ever since.

How does it work?

Apparently it’s all down to the rare radon gas in the caves, drawn from deep inside the earth, which has been shown to ease joint and bone pain.

I’m especially interested in the caves, as I’ve been walking on crutches since last May, following a medical problem with my hip and surgery to regulate it. The surgery appears not to have worked, instead of spending six weeks on crutches I’ve now been on them for six months, and doctors just shake their head whenever I ask how much longer the pain will last for.

I was a bit worried though when I heard the word ‘caves’ – would I be scrabbling around rock pools and lurching down dark passageways on my sticks? But the set-up turns up to be the height of sophistication. After my first night at the hotel, I’m driven to a modern light-filled clinic that seems to be partly built into the mountainside. I have an interview with a doctor, my blood pressure is taken and then I change into the swimwear they’ve advised me to bring.

The journey into the mountain

I’m given a robe and slippers and then taken to the train – oh yes (!), a small train is going to drive us deep into the mountain, starting from an underground platform in the basement of the clinic. There’s a large group of us and we squeeze into the small carriages; there are special carriages at the back with stretchers for those who are unable to sit and need to lie down.

Then we’re off, winding our way into the darkness, but as we journey the chill snowy air starts to turn warmer. And even warmer. We get off at one point to take off our robes, then back into the train where now the temperature is soaring as we go deeper into the mountain. 20-minutes driving later and we stop, the temperature in the high 40s and the humidity hitting a sweaty 100%. A few seasoned cavers – the ones who’ve been here before – get off; the rest of us continue on until the temperature falls to 37 degrees – phew – and humidity is a mere 40%.

We get off, men and women split up and we go our separate ways, arriving at the ‘women’s cave’ where we all strip off completely and lie down on thin mattresses on wooden beds that have been attached to the cave walls. The lighting is very dim and talking is not allowed so we all settle down pretty quickly in this hot humid environment to breathe in pure radon.

It’s a surreal version of a Malory Towers dormitory in an Enid Blyton storybook but I find it much easier than I thought to relax and I sense a gentle but powerful energy coming from the wall of the cave. The doctor comes round halfway through the session to check that everybody is OK and, in what seems like a very short time, the hour is up and the train is clanking back along the track to return us to the clinic.

How do I feel afterwards?

It feels strange emerging from the darkness to see bright sunshine reflecting off the snow, and to contrast us, still covered in sweat from the caves, with the chilly air outside. I’ve really enjoyed my experience in the Heilstollen galleries – and I know this might be completely psychological, but my hip isn’t painful at all when I get off the train.

Radon treatment back at the hotel

Back at the hotel, I go to the spa for a radon bath – just to up my quota of the mineral for today. The hotel runs two separate spring pipes into its buildings – one bringing radon-rich water to the swimming pools and spa baths, the other to every tap in the place. So yes, it is safe – and super healthy – to drink the tap water!

I also have a physiotherapy session, another healing option offered by the spa alongside its regular menu of facials and massages. And my hip is feeling blissfully pain-free. In fact I haven’t bothered walking with my crutch now for the past few hours.

What’s the hotel like?

Hotel Grüner Baum rates itself as ‘four/five star’ but the hotel is too cosy, too quirky to be a fully-fledged five-star. You won’t find any palatial acres of marble-clad foyer; this reception is home to rugs that look like they’ve been walked on, old-fashioned wooden furniture, a sledge, antique typewriters and a statue of St Anthony. There are blackened hearths with roaring fires, stacks of logs and mantelpieces piled with books.

The ‘Hofapotheke’ bar is kitted out with the original interior of the old Royal & Imperial pharmacy in Innsbruck, full of hundreds of tiny drawers and large glass jars dating from the 19th century.

My bedroom in the main building has two terraces with spectacular views of the mountains that rise steeply from the edge of the hotel gardens, behind the spa building. Its windows seem to be a magnet for the the hotel’s Chamois sheep, who take particular delight looking curiously in at me every morning.

An unseasonably early fall of snow when I arrive in early October – the snowy season and skiing don’t normally start until December – has covered everything in the grounds, from the playground and the swimming pool to the rabbit huts and the petting zoo, in a thick snowy blanket.

A taste of ‘healing’ food

Plate glass windows in the Panorama restaurant give stunning views of the valley outside. And in fact it’s in the restaurant where the hotel loses its ‘homely’ atmosphere and becomes the full five-star experience. Food is one of the keystones of the hotel offering – and with a large number of guests opting for half board, they need to be on their toes to keep each evening’s offering varied. They clearly are. Over my three-night stay, I’m treated in turn to a huge buffet spread, a seven-course tasting dinner and a table d’hôte menu with excellent choices; fresh produce given a light modern touch, beautifully presented. Each evening is a treat.

The evening’s menu is delivered every day to my breakfast table – guests occupy the same tables each day, another homely touch – along with information on that day’s activities, special outings, spa deals and the weather forecast!

What else is there to do?

Curl up with a book from the hotel’s collection in the lounge or surf the internet – there’s free wifi throughout the hotel and iPads available to borrow from reception. Swim in the indoor pool, or try the Finnish sauna and steam room. A kids’ lounge has board games, Wii and Playstation, and childcare is available six days a week.

Visit in summer for the outdoor pool, or to explore the many walking trails in the area, mountain bikes and Segways are also available to guests. The petting zoo has goats, rabbits, hamsters and guinea pigs, guests can go horse riding or camp at the converted silver fox farm nearby.

In winter the hotel runs a shuttle service to the ski lifts, plus there’s tobogganing and snowshoe hiking, with a cross-country track starting from the hotel door – people with walking poles crunch their way purposefully past me throughout the weekend. The hotel can book activities such as mountaineering, tandem paragliding, gold panning in the local rivers, hunting, archery and sleigh rides through the national park. The scenery here is beautiful – a horse and carriage took me for a half-hour tour and it was terribly romantic, despite the fact I was by myself!

Find out more

Standard doubles cost from 229 euros (£194); suites from 310 euros (£262); single rooms from 114 euros (£96) per night on a half-board basis. Contact the hotel on 00 43 6434 25160 or visit the website at www.hoteldorf.com

There’s a cold sea breeze blowing, fresher than the London air I’ve left behind, as I step off the plane in Jersey. Feeling totally wintered-out, I’ve come to try the Ayush Spa in Hotel de France. I’m so tired that the shininess of the taps irritates me as I wash my face in the bathroom that night. How do they get them so shiny? And then I realise I’ve had it with winter. I want brightness and sunshine and lambs jumping in fields. Not gales and flu bugs and everyone looking miserable.

Ayurveda is a system of holistic healthcare that originated in India over 5000 years ago and is practiced there today alongside Western medicine. ‘It’s not seen as an alternative practice in India,’ the Ayush spa director, Dr Prasanna, explains to me during my consultation the next morning. ‘There it’s part of the mainstream.’

The Ayurvedic system looks at the person as a whole – our minds and our bodies, our emotions and our spirits – aiming to bring us back a state of balance between all of those elements. Yes – aiming to bring us back. ‘We knew this once,’ says Dr Prasanna. ‘We simply need to find it again.’

Finding my dosha

He’s helping me to find it again – though I suspect and he knows it will take longer than my two-night stay here – by first finding my ‘dosha’, my personal constitution which is made up of a combination of three bio-physical forms. These are Vata (air), Pitta (fire) and Kapha (water). He finds it by giving me a short questionnaire on my physical appearance and personality traits, by checking my eyes and tongue and by feeling my pulse. And by looking at me very intently.

‘Vata and Pita,’ he pronounces. Air and water, a classic combination. He mentions I have problems with static electricity sometimes. I’ve almost been setting fire to inanimate objects over Christmas with the amount of sparks coming off me – so yes, this is spot on. He sums up my hair and skin condition perfectly – though of course he could do this just by looking. But he also raises a question about a change in my body shape. Which there has been, several years ago, due to illness. Overall it’s an impressive diagnosis.

How does Ayurveda work?

So how does this balance thing work? Well – as human beings we achieve balance when we are in a state of tri-dosha. Life, the world, the to-do lists, the daily commute, the new year resolutions gathering dust, the rain, the too-shiny taps and everything else conspire to knock our doshas out of balance. Imbalance results in ailments and poor mental health. Ayurveda helps us to regain balance and therefore good health.

Personal assessment over, it’s time for my treatment plan. This includes everything from the herbs I will be massaged with to the food I should eat. Off my list now are sour fruits like grapefruit (which I can’t bear anyway), kiwis (much too fiddely to bother with), hot peppers (never feature on my shopping list) and wild rice (which my body routinely refuses to digest). But I will miss mushrooms and the occasional aubergine and am not sure how well I’m taking to ‘olives in moderation’.

And it’s interesting to note that I have recently been cutting out a lot of the ‘don’t’ list, just from personal preference – avoiding hard cheese, red meat and caffeine. And I practically cheer when he advises me that I should eat warm cooked foods like stews and soups in favour of cold raw foods like salads. Ha! No more slowly chewing my way through a plate of crunchy awfulness from the health food shop. My mind tried to reason it was good for me, but my body was shouting no!

Finding the answers: Ayurvedic treatments

I really enjoy talking to Dr Prasanna; he also gives me some great tips on eating to boost my energy and to help a medical problem I have. Then it’s time for my first treatment, a classic Shirodhara massage. And so my head and feet are rubbed for a while and afterwards I lie there quietly while oil flows smoothly over my forehead and into a basin beneath. This may have lasted 10 minutes, it may have last 10 hours; the rhythmic soothing flow nudged my body into a place the conscious mind can’t take it and suspended the world just a few feet back, giving me peace and space. Once it’s finished I ask how long has it lasted. 40 minutes it turns out.

I leave the oil in my hair for a few hours afterwards – the benefits will continue to work on my body explains my lovely therapist Kavinda – and laze around in the spa. The pool area is light-filled from the huge wraparound window. I lie on a sunlounger and enjoy the benefits of the sun without the drawbacks of the wind. The main swimming pool is very large and the massage pool bigger than some standard-size hotel pools; there are also hot and cold plunge pools and a sauna.

That night I sleep like a baby and wake with gloriously shiny glossy hair, like an A-lister on Oscar night. And during my Udvartana massage the next morning I devote the 55 minutes to working out a niggling problem that’s been bothering me for ages and is probably the cause of my excessive tiredness and propensity to be bothered by over-shiny taps. The herbal exfoliator will continue to work out the toxins in my body and mind says Kavinda as she finishes the treatment. And she’s right. By the end of the day the problem is gone.

Back in the real world, what’s the hotel like?

Looking very ‘Victorian sea-front’ in its website photo, the hotel’s exterior actually masks a fully renovated, very modern interior space. And it’s not on the seafront though I can catch glimpses of the beach from its hilltop location, the promenade is a 20-minute walk.

The building dates from the mid-1800s when it first opened as the Imperial hotel. Deemed ‘too grand’ by the locals, it eventually closed and has since been a Jesuit college and a training school for German officers during the island’s wartime occupation. It re-opened as a hotel in the ‘70s and went through a complete refurbishment a few years ago, adding the spa in 2006.

What else can I do in Jersey?

There’s no shortage of entertainment once you’ve done your time lounging in the spa; highlights include Durrell Wildlife Park in 32 acres of gardens, the Neolithic passage grave and dolmen Le Pouquelaye de Faldouet, two castles – Mont Orgueil and Grosnez, and plenty of adventure centres, sea sports, tours and walks. For full details on a huge variety of activities visit the Jersey Tourism website at www.jersey.com