A day in Spa is just what the doctor ordered for a reluctant sybarite

So, almost two months after hurtling over the handlebars of my bike, I’m about to dip my toe in the waters of this historical retreat. Thermes de Spa is a modern wellness centre perched high above the pretty stone town, built in 2004 to exploit the springs and breath-taking view over the valley below.

I have to confess I’m not a spa-junkie, despite notching up my fair share of authentic massages, steam baths and strange mud experiences during various travels abroad. Consequently I’m overwhelmed by the plethora of treatments available. With a shoulder blade and face still healing and off-limits, the spa’s signature treatments – massage and facial – are out of the question. I settle for a blend of the traditional and holistic: a carbonated bath, body wrap and a gentle Shiatsu form of massage, to be performed in the pool.

First, I don a bathrobe and navigate the two-zoned interior. For visitors undergoing treatments there is a separate changing and shower room, accessible by electronic bracelet and token. Up in the treatment wing, all wood-floors and orchids, a receptionist prints out my programme and provides directions. The Zen-like atmosphere is beginning to work its magic.

I’m on the path to tranquillity by the time I drop into the carbonated bath, a resplendent antique copper vessel bearing the Liège manufacturer’s plaque. It’s filled with water from one of Spa’s three springs: the naturally sparkling Marie-Henriette, heated to body temperature. Its iron and magnesium properties reduce stress and blood pressure and boost circulation, the assistant informs me. The bubbles stick to my skin like mini barnacles, but there’s no denying the almost guilty thrill of a 20-minute soak at 11 in the morning. A half-hour break follows this exertion, allowing time to rehydrate – bottles of Spa drinking water are freely available in this section – and explore the resting rooms and sunbed terrace overlooking the spectacular glass-domed swimming pool.

On to the body wrap, and I plump for seaweed before climbing aboard a plastic-lined table where my therapist Virginia slathers me with a dark green concoction. The odour is so strong that I feel like a giant spoiled sushi. Once enveloped, I’m swathed in a plastic layer and an electrically heated rubber duvet is added to help sweat out all those toxins. Purification turns to pleasure when Virginia pushes a button and the table lowers into a water-filled bath. I’m now floating and swaddled. Lights off, music on and I’m left to blissfully slow-bake for 20 minutes. Virginia returns and puts an end to this delicious reverie, while a multi-jet shower removes the unguent; as I’m not averse to the smell of the sea I forego soap to prolong the seaweed effect. With lunch next on the programme I’m surprisingly in the mood for raw fish.

There’s no sushi but plenty of choice at the self-service buffet in the private dining room. A cafeteria also lies both poolside and overlooking a landscaped terrace with a panoramic view. For us, there’s soup and a variety of salads that would satisfy the most weight-conscious as well as the healthy of appetite. There’s even a selection of cream cakes and a cheese platter for dessert. Feeling virtuous, I opt for fresh fruit and herbal tea before sloping off to the pool area.

There are two interconnecting swimming baths, one indoor and shell-shaped, the other outdoor and heated to a toasty 33°C. Both are fed by the Clementine spring, rich in bicarbonate and calcium. As it’s sunny, with only the occasional cloud scudding past, I head out into the fresh air. This is my first dip post-accident, and even if I have to dodge the fountains and powerful jets, the water provides instant relief.

Time for my final appointment of the day: a Watsu session, a therapy about which I am entirely ignorant. While waiting poolside for the instructor, an information board yields some necessary advice. A water-bound form of Shiatsu, Watsu is a combination of stretching, massage and relaxation which produces a differing experience for each participant. Fortunately we are in a reserved section of the pool as after attaching floats around my calves, the instructor literally cradles me in in his arms and tells me to ‘shut my eyes and let go’! Thus began a disorientating yet liberating journey as I was spun gently though the water in smooth circular movements. With my ears just under the water, nearly all sound was muffled. For the next 50 minutes my back was gently massaged and manipulated while all I had to do was breathe and totally relax. I put up no resistance and reverted to another being, akin to a newborn or a fish. All too soon it was over and I landed on my feet in a foetal position. Barely able to blurt out my thanks I crawled back to the sun lounger, foregoing a planned trip to the sauna and hammam. A niggling pain in my lower back was absent and I definitely felt lighter and more limber.

As a spa-sceptic whose idea of relaxation is a minimum 45 minutes of lengths in the public pool or 10km hike in hilly terrain, I admit that I could definitely get used to this pampering lark. For the rest of the afternoon I’m happy to lie outside in the weakening sun, enjoying a deep and rare sense of wellbeing. 

The therapy menu

Beauty and health Facials, body treatments and massages

Balneotherapy Baths, showers and relaxation

Body Lymphatic drainage, peels, wraps, reflexology, shiatsu

Sauna/hammam Clothed and naturist

Mother & baby institute Massage, therapies and thermal baths

Packages Couples, single sex, families and evening sessions

www.thermesdespa.com

This article was originally published in Newcomer Magazine, 2013