I’m a health spa sceptic. When friends or colleagues espoused the benefits of chic getaways to pricey spas or wellness resorts, I rolled my eyes.
I’ve always pushed health matters to the back of my mind until warning lights began to flash – shooting sciatic pain, muscle ache, brain fog, fatigue, bad sleep… I’ve had them all and suffered in silence. Then add endometriosis and perimenopause to the mix.
There are an estimated 13 million women who are peri or menopausal in Britain, roughly one third of the UK’s female population. And about 1.5million of us also suffer from crippling endometriosis.
So when the chance came up for a health-focused break in the rolling hills outside Bologna in Italy, I decided to put my misgivings to one side.
Wellness tourism is a booming industry, valued at £625billion in 2023 and set to rise to £1trillion in 2028. A study for booking.com last year found almost half of Brits would pay for a holiday with the sole purpose of extending their life.
My purpose for my trip stretched to a two-item to-do list: “relax and eat pasta”. But Palazzo di Varignana, a sprawling wellness resort with an award-winning spa, had other ideas.
Not long after arriving, I did a quick sweep of my private villa: airy rooms, a snooker room with a balcony library, marble bathrooms, an infinity pool that melts into rolling vineyards and olive groves, and even a little orchard.
Then it was straight to the Varsana Spa: a 43,055sqft playground of pools, saunas, steam baths, plus a salt cave and ice room. You can book facials, manicures, the works – but I went for a hardcore sports massage to pummel out the stress knots. Turns out 10hours hunched over a laptop five days a week isn’t good for you.
I also tried the Ars Vivendi private spa journey. Robe and slippers on, I stepped into a bathhouse with a Moroccan hammam vibe. A broad stone bench sits under a pounding waterfall, perfect for hammering tense shoulders with a spot of hydrotherapy. The attendant walked me through the ritual, then left me to enjoy the place. My scepticism, it seemed, was
melting away.
After an hour, I was whisked off on the next stage of my spa odyssey, into a Japanese onsen-style spa with an exquisite wood-cladded room with a pool. I was given delicious smelling scrubs for my face and body and invited to simply relax. The treatment ends with a tea ceremony.
Having just recovered from a gruelling flare of endo inflammation that floored me for two days, the gentleness of the bathing ritual felt like exactly the right kind of self-care.
The resort is set within 30 hectares of manicured gardens including a maze to lose yourself in.
If you’re so inclined, a yoga teacher will appear with mats and a calming voice. Mine led me through a gentle sun salutation but if you want something vigorous, it can be arranged.
Of course, one of the main reasons to come to Italy is the food and in Emilia-Romagna, you’re spoiled rotten. The region is famous for its cured meat and cheese. It is home of Bolognese sauce, though it is called ragù here and is served with tagliatelle and never, ever, spaghetti – unless you want a rap on the knuckles from Nonna’s wooden spoon. So technically it’s not spag bol, it’s tag rag. You can’t not try the real thing, even on a health retreat.
There are five restaurants to cover every craving, but for something lighter, the resort’s scientific director and nutritionist, Dr Annamaria Acquaviva, has something easier on the ol’ digestive system: the Ginkgo Restaurant turns Dr Acquaviva’s five-pillar method into fresh, guilt-free Italian plates. Her holistic vision is to find balance across inner harmony, movement, restorative sleep, nutrition and smart supplementation.
The three-course “mindful” tasting lunch is gluten-free, sugar-free, dairy-free, low-carb, and – controversially for this part of the world – free of garlic and onions to aid digestion.
At the resort’s heart stands the grand Palazzo, a recently renovated country castle dating black to 1705. Upstairs there’s a fine-dining room and down in the old cellars, a vast conference centre with a museum of curios the new owner has acquired.
The estate also boasts a 700-hectare working farm that feeds the kitchens with estate-to-table produce. When you’re ready to “retox,” you can arrange a visit to the winery. I opted for a wine-and-olive-oil tasting – everything grown and processed on-site – and promptly fell for the estate’s crisp white wine, Albana.
There was no shortage of saintly pursuits: seven outdoor pools, a golf practice area (putting green, chipping green, and an 11-bay driving range), plus a gym and courts for tennis, squash, basketball, and padel. You can book sound baths, guided meditation, breathwork, stress and sleep coaching.
If you’ve got a problem, you can find a tonic for it here and the team will customise a program for your needs.
I took a bike ride through the vineyards on an e-bike, and our guide wove in snippets of local history as we pedalled: this valley was occupied by Nazi troops during the Second World War, marked today by a war memorial and the remains of a bombed farmhouse.
So did I return feeling angelic, relaxed and Zen? Whisper it: Yes.
And I kept a few souvenirs: a quieter mind, looser shoulders, and a couple of bottles of that Albana.