It’s a challenge to stand out in the spa scene. The UK is blessed with a bounty of five-star country hotels all with excellent spas. Beaverbrook! Lime Wood! Heckfield Place! Cliveden! They’re all exquisite and within easy reach of London.
It’s why Estelle Manor, the Oxfordshire members’ club and hotel which opened to much (justified) hype last summer, has turned the concept on its head and opened the doors to its spectacular bathhouse, Eynsham Baths.
Forget hushed tones and solemn self-reflection, the vast (3,000 sq m) marble subterranean palace of thermal pools is a place to hang out, chat and egg one another on to brave the coldest plunge pool (6 degrees!). Pleasingly — and I do hope more places follow suit — phones are banned. The idea is for guests to embark and commune on one of two journeys across the five thermal pools over a three-hour time slot.
The concept is rooted in the work of neurobiologist Dr. Huberman and neuroscientist Dr. Søberg did on thermodynamics and the proven benefits of cold water therapy — immune-boosting, circulation-charging, weight loss-inducing and mood-transforming. Choose from the Metabolic Evolution experience with its appealing promise of slowing down the ageing process or the Circadian Rest and Recover, which pledges to rewire the nervous system for a killer night’s sleep. You can guess which we two women of a certain age chose. A Tibetan gong will ceremoniously sound at the end of your session.
There is also a hay sauna (so called because it is lined with organic hay from the farm next door) with a sauna master who will perform clever things with a towel and eucalyptus as well as a steam room, thermal cabins, a breathwork pool and the most beautiful hamman. Should you be lucky enough to find it empty, starfish yourself on the stunning pink marble centrepiece and drift off in the cocooning warmth. It was a highlight.
At first tentative at the thought of half naked social interaction (or any interaction really — we are from London, after all), my friend and I soon got into the spirit of it and rather enjoyed the camaraderie. Guests were encouraging and kind as we ventured into the different pools. We found asking someone to dunk you with the frigid Scottish bucket to be an effective icebreaker. The spa is limited to 30 guests at a time, so it never feels crowded and there are plenty of spaces for you to retreat to if being around other people just isn’t your thing.
But, if the thought of conversing with strangers sends you screaming in horror, you can book a solitary treatment in one of the 10 treatment rooms. All begin in the nose room, where you’ll be guided through five unique scents which were five years in the making (plus a CBD oil which they only suggest for people who have severe trouble sleeping and have no plans that evening due to its potency) to select the correct one for your needs that day.
Treatments are inspired by ancient Indian, Tibetan and Chinese traditions. From chakra healing and ayurvedic potli massages to Chi Nei Tsang — a Chinese abdominal massage targeted at ‘emotional digestion’ — the menu is out of the ordinary. I was practically drooling over the treatment list but at 20 weeks pregnant was limited to the Garbh Sanskar prenatal massage. I needn’t have felt hard done by. Designed to promote a deep connection between mother and child, over the course of 90 minutes I was scrubbed, massaged and stroked to the verge of unconsciousness. Delightfully, much attention was paid to my swollen ankles. A supremely relaxing experience.
Another novel touch at Eynsham Baths is the tea room with its 32 hand blended teas which are treatment-matched, as well as a healthy ayurvedic menu. This being Estelle Manor, wine and champagne is also served because they would never dream of getting in the way of a good time. For the course of your session you’ll have a dedicated table to return to as many times as you’d like. We sipped on Indian lemonade, saffron tea and homemade cashew brownies.
Rehydrated, the gong sounds and it’s time to slip into our ponchos (there’s nothing so common as dressing gowns here) and head back into the world. Except now we’re floating.
