I was recently sat next to a celebrated garden designer at dinner party. Despite knowing it’s not really the done thing to ask someone endless questions about their work at a gathering, I couldn’t resist. I wanted so badly to know what mad things the moneyed London folk are putting in their gardens and was hoping for something debauched or unhinged, perhaps a champagne-dispensing fountain or a sort of Stonehenge replica around which chanting could take place.
What emerged was a rather more sobering – and sober – admission: rather than madcap parties with cocktails galore, the very rich are on the whole still pursuing wellness with all their might, and as such their manicured gardens are more often than not home to either a sauna cabin or an ice plunge pool/bath. Sometimes both. Said designer also told me that she is seeing an uptick in people wanting infrared chambers, to which I replied “very wise, don’t we all.”
I only half meant that in jest: yes, the pile of things I would part with a lot of cash for number in the hundreds before I get to infrared in the garden shed, but as someone who has dabbled in heating and cooling my body then peppering it with lights and the like in the name of wellness, I can tell you it’s powerful stuff. If I could do it regularly, I really would, only alas I don’t have the space or cash to erect a wellness area in my house – but I’d certainly visit one that was nearby for a regular fix.
This is broadly what the folk at Vidavii must’ve thought was missing in town while setting up what is I think the ultimate speedy wellness circuit, featuring all the current hottest things in the field.
I went to try it out last week. Up the stairs I trudged, leaving behind a gloomy South Molton Street and entering into biohacking heaven. It started with a 3D body scan, which informed how long I should spend on the different elements of the circuit, and offered a comprehensive overview of where my body was at in terms of precisely how much muscle and fat my weight was comprised of (the right amount of the former, bit too much of the latter), whether my body was evenly distributed (nope: my centre of gravity tilts slightly to the right, my left arm is marginally longer than my left, while my left shoulder is 0.9cm higher than my right, probably from carrying so many bloody heavy handbags).
After that, onto a ‘contactless, dry water massage’ during which hydro-jets made their way up and down me from under what felt like a tarpaulin sheet while I lay under therapeutic lights. I didn’t enjoy this bit of the proceedings; I’m staunchly for massage being administered by human hands only and find all devices don’t really do the job anywhere near as well.
Next, the infrared and ionised oxygen chamber. The former reduces muscle tension, boosts metabolism, and helps with circulation, while the latter contains concentrated ionised oxygen, which speeds detoxification and strengthens the immune system, among other things. The experience is broadly akin to lying in the sun, only instead of reclining, you’re standing, and instead of wearing sunglasses and a bikini, you’re in light-blocking goggles and your underwear. But, you know, nice and warming, pushed the chill out my bones.
That chill didn’t depart for long, because I went directly from my little warm holiday into the icy clutches of the -85C. It was bracing to say the least, but I stuck it out for the three plus minutes I was told my body could handle, then slid my frozen form into the lymphatic flow device, which was my favourite few minutes of the half hour; I found the sensation of my lower body being encased in a tube that contracted around my middle rather like a cobra, squeezing and releasing my middle repeatedly oddly relaxing, like a deep release in areas that massages simply can’t reach. But it didn’t just feel good; the benefits of good lymphatic flow are wide-ranging, and include a boost to the healing process, oxygen and nutrients rushed into stagnant areas, and optimised blood flow.
After all that, I thought perhaps I’d be exhausted, but rather I re-entered the London drizzle energised. The team told me to expect this at the beginning, adding that they’ve extended hours into the evening for those who have demanding lives either physically or mentally and need just this sort of boost. I think this is where it’ll really triumph; there are legions of Londoners who work under great stress, running around at a furious pace but who like me sadly don’t have the funds for a wellness garden situation of their own.
A full circuit costs £98, a package of 5 £450, while a subscription for unlimited circuits is £295 per month, vidavii.com.
