Sharon Marshall finds new wings for her city-weary soul at luxurious Ananda Spa in the Indian Himalayas.

 

Like India, the times they have a-changed, and, on a trip to the evolving country, my partner and I decided a 22-year anniversary was the perfect reason to explore our long-dreamed-of travel destinations. A trip to the Himalayas topped the list. With Rishikesh, the reputed yogic capital of the world which gained international fame when the Beatles visited the Maharishi Yogi back in the’ 60s, at its foothills, our city-worn sensors hit high alert when we discovered there was a luxurious spa just up the hill overlooking the sacred Ganges.

After a ponderous selection process, we added Ananda as dessert to a main course of Uttaranchal scenic delights, and with urban woes untidily heaped into a suitcase, headed for the fabled hills.

Whether our systems were in overdrive or whether we’d imbibed contaminated lassies, we’ll never know, but after a scenic three-day drive through Haridwar, Rishikesh and Mussourie, our bodies were dehydrated, fevers high and tempers frayed by the time we reached Ananda. The last thing we felt like was dessert, but it didn’t take us long to change our minds.

Set 21 km atop a winding road from Rishikesh amidst a cool forest, Ananda headquarters are housed in a palatial Moorish-style home built on a Maharaja’s estate, with undulating green lawns and landscaped gardens, through which guests are transported by buggie to private villas or hotel rooms overlooking the holy Ganges. The restored viceroy’s palace, with its rooftop boardrooms and panoramic views, we soon discover, though primarily geared at high-powered international executives seeking stress management programmes, is a regal façade for down-to-earth healing programmes honed from eastern and western principles.

Within an hour of our arrival, the resident ayurvedic doctor had visited us in our room, and besides medicating our stomach bugs, handed us health analyses based on our personality types and dietary tastes. Enter a new regime of eating, which, after a satisfying rest on crisp, clean linen, was embarked on with tender relish. Airy Vata for me, and earthy Kapha for Chris. Which, in layman’s terms, means sautéed fish for me, to satisfy my predilection for sweet, sour and salty tastes, and roasted vegetables for Chris, whose system needs bitter, pungent and astringent flavours to keep his body-mind connection functioning at peak.

 

SPACE AND LIGHT

Next morning, after cereal and fruit al fresco on the airy restaurant deck, we study the day’s general programme and the selection of over 100 treatments, which focus on ayurveda and aromatherapy, complemented by sophisticated spa technology – and tailor-made couples’ packages like ours, which had to be abandoned at the last minute because it was too strenuous for our weakened constitutions.

With only two days at our disposal, we consult the doctor for recommendations to max our benefits, and come up with neatly dovetailed individual programmes, which also allow us plenty of time to lie at the pool and take in a tour of the grand massage centre. Refreshingly and minimistically decorated in red, saffron and orange, the 21 treatment rooms are immaculately designed to invoke feelings of harmony – “each and every pebble is placed strategically to form part of a harmonious whole,” our Tibetan masseur tells us, before whisking me off to a Shirodara, a sesame-based derivative of the Indian head massage which purportedly helps premature ageing. Gentle and indulgent, the massage, developed from a Hindi family grooming ritual over a thousand years ago, starts with the pouring of hot oil onto the crown and forehead chakras of the scalp and, as the therapist moves her way down to the throat chakra, gradually connects with the central nervous system. An hour after entering, I leave, feeling a little spaced out, but lighter, more relaxed and ready for a wind-down walk on rounded Ganga pebbles in a lukewarm footbath.

Chris, who has a weaker stomach than me, also emerges a lot more buoyant after an hour of core exercises, which involve tightening the abdominal muscles in a variety of acrobatic positions.

Cellphones abandoned (“Some of our guests suffer major withdrawals from this,” says the English supervisor Mark, whose previous life was parties and frenetic tourism in Brighton, “but it’s a major step in winding down from the frenetic pace of city life”), we slip out of our white linen spa suits and grab a few minutes in the sun at the pool.

After a lazy leafy lunch, which it’s tempting to overdo, it’s off to the palace at the top for a set of deep breathing exercises, which the instructor warns, could evoke powerful emotions. An hour-long session of deep meditational Oms, nostril and diaphragm movements, under her patient guidance, gives us an inkling of why meditational experts tout prahnic breathing as the most important spiritual tool around: able to witness a shift in consciousness with every breath, I find myself feeling old emotions relegated to the memory heap and drifting into insightful states of objectivity. Though I know they’ll still be there when I leave, insurmountable problems suddenly seem minuscule and I am aware of how simple breath control can centre my entire world. The challenge will be maintaining the routine, sans instructor, but for now I’m happy to flow into a new state of temporary bliss.

Which, on a superficial level, translates as a facial performed by a Tibetan expert: a luxury not just because I seldom allow for it, but because it goes so much deeper than the skin. Using juniper and basil as a base, my 70-minute Mountain Dew Skin Facial is one of three deep facials performed at the spa, and I am given insights into the healing properties of essential oils as well as the precarious lives of Tibetans in exile. Small wonder I feel like dinner, of vegetarian lasagne, and the consequent rose petal bath, complete with view of the sacred river below, is a special occasion.

 

TEA AND REFLEXOLOGY

Next morning Chris is fully recovered and makes an early-morning session of yoga in an outdoor amphitheatre in the cool, clear air. With separate sessions for beginners and advanced exercisers, the programme satisfies all ages and shapes, and, despite the aches created by newly activated muscles, he believes he’s found a new antidote to cycling, which is impossible in a congested city.

A little later, while he unwinds, I join a spirituality lecture together with an Indian couple who have been happily married for 25 years, a single American woman my age and an older Indian woman living in the States. The debate is lively as eastern and western attitudes to marriage are the Vedanta tutor’s favourite topic, and our individual viewpoints are diverse. After dissecting and comparing traditional arranged marriages with western unions of choice, and little agreement save that marriage is hard work, we leave with one kudo: that true love requires space to grow, and flow.

By tea time, rested but mentally revived, we prepare for our grand finale: reflexology for two in the Couple’s Suite, which also has a double jacuzzi and steam area. Though their techniques are subtly different – one learnt in Thailand, the other in England, our diagnoses are spot on (Chris’s sinus problems and my head aches are pinpointed through sensor spots on our feet) and we emerge, after an hour’s intensive therapy in a darkened room, feeling a little more grounded, but with wings under our soles.

Lunch feels ethereal and connected; our fellow clients seem to be floating on the same cloud as us, and we begin to understand why the waiters flit so effortlessly in harmonious unison. A diner next to us has just returned from an ayurvedic cookery class with inspired spice secrets and we are less than happy to leave at what seems like the beginning of a holistic honeymoon.

Looking back en route to Jolly Grant airport in nearby Dehradun, the Ganges fading into the distance, we agree that love, space and health, especially in overcrowded India, are far more precious than gold.

 

 

NEED TO KNOW

WHEN TO GO: Situated at an altitude of 1000 metres at the foot of the Uttaranchal Himalayas, the climate is temperate and moderate throughout the year, except for winter (mid-December to mid-January), when temperatures drop to 6 degrees at night.

GETTING THERE:

Located just 260 kilometres north of New Delhi, Ananda is easily accessible by road, rail and air. A 45-minute flight to Jolly Grant airport outside Dehradun, a four-hour train journey from Delhi to Haridwar station and a scenic seven to eight-hour drive from New Delhi to Ananda are the various travel options.

COST AND CONTACTS:

A room and breakfast costs from 18700 Indian rupees per night per couple, while a villa with pool costs from 49500. Tariffs include aromatic baths, yoga and meditation classes, hiking trips, use of sauna, steam bath, jacuzzi, gymnasium and swimming pools, as well as transfers to and from Haridwar Railway Station and Jolly Grant Airport. Stress management packages, up to six weeks long, are specially tailored to suit individuals and treatments charged separately. Go to www.anandaspa.com for full details and rates or contact Pushpa Nair at pushpan@ihhrhospitality.com.

 

 

AYURVEDA SPECIALITIES

Believed to have originated in the Himalayas, ayurveda is the bedrock of Ananda healthcare, which use herbs grown in the area. Rejuvenating treatments, which are designed by the resident ayurvedic doctor to detoxify and nourish the body, relax the mind and free the spirit, include:

Abhyanga, a full body massage, administered by two therapists in synchrony; Shirodara (described above); Pizhichil, a slow rhythmic full body massage with herbal oils, Choornaswedana, “bundle massage” with induced sweating to aid circulation, Takradhara, buttermilk poured on the forehead to relieve depression, Chakradhara, marma point massage, Udwarthana, herbal massage to address obesity, Nasya, massage with nasal therapy to dispel migraines.

 

ANANDA REJUVENATION CUISINE

Rather than providing a place to lose weight quickly, Ananda focuses on diet as a way of life, and each meal is a carefully planned low-calorie, high-nutrition alternative to regular meals often eaten on the trot. Low-fat, low-sodium, high-fibre are the key words employed, with no beef, pork or veal and preference given to grilled, roasted, steamed, broiled, steamed and poached cooking methods.

 

ANANDA TOURS

  • Daily sunset trips to Rishikesh to observe the Ganga Aarti, a Hindu ritual in which the chanting of prayers is accompanied by a holy fire ceremony, and the offering of herbs and ghee.
  • Daily car trips and treks to the Kunjapuri Temple, dedicated to Goddess Sati, the consort of Lord Shiva, 14 kilometres north of Ananda at 1645m above sea level with spectacular 360-degree views.
  • Day safaris to Rajaji National Park, as well as elephant rides.
  • White river rafting on the Ganges.

Published in Aquarius, Dubai, July 2008. Copyright Sharon Marshall 2008.