The first afternoon of my budget spa weekend at the AMA Hotel and Health Retreat Andalusia was not, I’ll admit, very relaxing, or — had I followed the instruction of the medical professionals — cheap.
It started well, with a glass of chilled cava — just €3 — on an outdoor terrace overlooking the huge pool, the sea air spring-like warm even in the depths of winter. However, too soon I was whisked away by a white-coated nurse, my BMI, body fat and blood pressure measured, an ECG, a finger-prick blood test to analyse my “antioxidant levels”, then a multiple-page form to fill in, more anxiety inducing than my tax return. What are the colour and texture of my stools? The manner of my birth delivery? Was I breastfed? How satisfied, from one to five, am I with my sex life, my memories of school, my relationship with my parents? How many times a week do I eat turkey, coconut oil, soya, cake?
Can I have a massage yet?
The idea is that before you start tucking in with abandon to the food, drink and treatments on offer — the hotel’s two excellent restaurants are headed up by a former El Bulli chef, and the bar is well stocked with local wines, sherry and the aforementioned cava — you have a health check with Dr Eric, a stern Cuban brandishing a highlighter pen.
He vigorously circled in luminous yellow any worrying symptoms he spotted on my form: a bout of sinusitis last year, mild eczema, a dust allergy, occasional bloating and a regular desire for a cup of tea and a Crunchie at about 4pm, speaking only to say things such as “Are you moody when you menstruate?” or “I see you are a caesarean baby. This means since birth you have not had the bacteria you need.”
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His conclusion was that I’m suffering from the grim-sounding, leaky-gut syndrome, where toxins seep into your bloodstream and attack your immune system (something for which the NHS says there is no scientific basis). I should cut out all gluten and lactose, have a salad instead of a latte when I’m tired, reduce “arachidonic-acid sources” from 5pm — that includes red meat, integral bread and avocado — and take a cocktail of nearly €1,000 worth of supplements.
Resist the call of the algae tablets, however, as I did (Berocca is expensive enough, thanks very much), and the rest of the experiences on offer here are a surprisingly good-value way to recharge your batteries and vitamin D levels — the latter of which you don’t have to pay for in this part of the world. Apart from partial nudity in the Turkish hammam, which we will come to, the rest of my weekend was also stress free.
The AMA Andalusia, in the town of Islantilla — and the apartment blocks that share its grounds and are largely owned by Dutch pensioners escaping for the winter — have been around for a while. The 27-hole Islantilla Golf Resort, 200 metres away, is one of the most popular in the area. The smart spa and wellness centre, though, is newly renovated and its many treatments, introduced by the warm and friendly spa manager, Selma van Asselt, are unusual. For €30, for example, you can enjoy a half-hour Watsu massage, a swimming-pool affair where “the receiver is continuously supported by the therapist while being back-floated, rhythmically cradled, moved, stretched and massaged”.
It is easy enough to reach Islantilla, a town between the Atlantic and the Andévalo region on the Costa de la Luz, on a budget flight. It’s an hour from Faro airport and just under an hour and a half’s drive from Seville, past sunny fields bursting with orange trees. The beach and local tapas joints are a short stroll away and you can hire bikes, ride horses and take a group walking tour or seaside exercise class.
I, however, didn’t manage to leave the confines of the hotel, having a packed timetable to sort out my leaky gut. These included a hair mask (€5) and blow dry (€16), manicure (€15) and an hour-long full-body massage (€65) — all as good as any I’ve had costing twice the price. Then there was a meditation and yoga class, a quick trip to the gym — and a lot longer lolling in the hot tub — an indoor pool, Turkish steam room, infrared and Finnish saunas, and icy plunge pool.
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A night at the hotel, which includes access to all of the above, costs from €100 for a double with a healthy breakfast. The minimalist white rooms seem pricier, furnished with sofas, cushions, blankets and tables from the very un-budget Danish brand HAY. The bathrooms, with a magnificent shower and deep stand-alone bath, are stocked with Aromatherapy Associates and Rituals products.
Come dinnertime I was offered an elimination-diet menu prepared by Dr Eric but I’m afraid the arachidonic-acid sources of beef carpaccio and iberico ham croquettes got the better of me. There is plenty of more detox-friendly stuff on the menu if you are here to eat well in the nutritional sense, though, with an emphasis on freshly caught fish of the day and lots of grilled Mediterranean veggies and raw salads. The Fandado Bar & Restaurant has a mix of Asian and European dishes at about the €15 mark, while pudding is only €5. The Ostras restaurant is a posher, fine-dining set-up, with menus by the chef Javier Rebello, who is aiming for the first Michelin star in the Huelva province with his clams with sea foam, and prickly-pear soup in a frozen lake.
My favourite beauty treatment of the weekend was Selma’s signature, an organic crystal-healing facial. This combined the usual cleanse and moisturise with some sort of reiki and crystal ritual. Even if, like me, you tend to consider hokum anything “healing” related, I urge you to give it a go because Selma gives a great face massage.
Maybe it really was the energy in her hands, something she says runs in her family, or the smooth stones placed on my heart, legs and forehead, to rebalance my chakras. Or maybe it was the multitude of hot towels, lovely smelling organic masks and oils, and the lymphatic drainage that left my pasty, central-heating skin glowy and perky. Somehow she sent me into a trance-like state, something that I find difficult to achieve when trying to concentrate on “relaxing.”
So to the nudity. My final treatment was AMA’s special hammam offered by the muscular Moroccan personal trainer Soufiane, who insisted that I seemed unusually tense. I was too British to point out that it probably had something to do with me discovering that this treatment is carried out while he is wearing a towel, and me nothing but a paper thong.
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It began in the steam room, where Soufiane lathered me up with a special Moroccan black-olive soap with the texture of butter. Then he sandpapered me down with a kessa glove and asked — I think it was a joke — whether I wanted to take a photo of the grey slugs of dead skin he had sloughed off my backside. He ended the treatment with a series of excruciating stretches, cracking my spine and neck.
Whatever he did worked. My skin felt embarrassingly soft, my shoulders floppy and within minutes of boarding my Ryanair flight home I was fast asleep.
If you can suspend any suspicions of alternative therapy and cope with being pampered in the buff, the new AMA spa turns out to be a luxurious bargain. Just don’t tell Dr Eric that while writing this article I ate a Krispy Kreme.
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Laura Whateley was a guest of Wellbeing Escapes (020 3735 7555, wellbeingescapes.com), which has a four-night Intro to Detox programme at AMA Andalusia from £695pp double occupancy, £751 single occupancy, including flights from Gatwick. Prices include breakfast, spa treatments, private yoga and daily group fitness classes. Double rooms at AMA Andalusia (ama-resort.com) start from €100 a night.