Ace-Spa-Retreats

Diet: Juice fasting retreats

Can a intensive fast kick start your spring clean regime? Jini Reddy takes the plunge and finds out…

Can a intensive fast kick start your spring clean regime? Jini Reddy takes the plunge and finds out…
In my hands is a scary-looking DIY enema kit – which I’m soon to try. How, I wonder, as I gingerly examine bag and tube, has my idle desire to shed a few pounds and nuke my sugar addiction morphed into this? These days you can barely move for retreats, but how does one separate the wheat from the chaff? I admit, my choice, a fiveday juice fast detox with Jiva Healing is based on gut (ahem) instinct and the rave reviews I’d clocked online. For the past six years, founders Melissa Kendall and Rebecca Andrist have run these breaks (and others devoted to healthy eating and fitness) around the world.

Mine takes place in Littleton Mill, a restored 17th century water mill, outside Chippenham in Wiltshire, where all the UK retreats are currently based. The mill, a vast, airy space is in a bucolic setting, surrounded by fields and sheep, and close to the Avon and Kennet canal.

On two floors, there’s an enormous sun-filled yoga studio and five big double rooms (some with ensuite bathrooms, all with pretty views) as well as a big kitchen and living room. The mill is also Melissa’s home, which she shares with her husband Rick and son Curtis – both are away during my stay – and two lovable dogs.

The whole point of a juice fast is to give body and mind a break. The idea is to clear out the gunk that clogs up the digestive system as a result of a less than ‘clean’ lifestyle and diet. Why bother? Well, a poorly functioning digestive system will inhibit the immune system and play havoc with our ability to absorb vital nutrients, all of which can lead to health problems.

I’m advised to prepare by cutting out stimulants like caffeine, alcohol and sugar, and to have a colonic treatment. I book mine with Elida Ward, a colonic hydrotherapist based in south west London. It’s a

surprisingly soothing experience, and as an added bonus, she has an impressive encyclopaedic knowledge of natural health cures.

The first night

At Littleton Mill, I meet my four friendly fellow ‘retreatees’. All women, they range in age from 30 to a 50-something, and three are repeat visitors. One is the daughter of one of the most famous men on the planet. In fact, many highprofile guests come here, including Kate Moss, but the vibe isn’t remotely stuffy.

Rather, there’s a sweetly informal family atmosphere and a high level of professionalism. The staff are brilliant: kind, nurturing and endlessly supportive.

On the first night, we have a ‘last supper’: pesto, mint and pea soup, cabbage slaw, roasted vegetables and green salad. After dinner, we’re shown how to use the enema kits. I barely sleep that night, so anxious am I about shoving a tube up my backside.

I wake at eight am – there is a loose schedule to keep things rolling – take a psyllium husk drink (to help with colon cleansing) and then it’s down to business. Thanks to a lubricant of good old olive oil, the experience is blessedly stress-free. The only hassle is that I’m sharing a bathroom with one of the other guests, and it has to be said that enemas and shared bathrooms are not a match made in heaven.

After a shower, it’s time for the daily round of nourishment: a green drink, laden with high-powered nutrients, including Udo’s Oil (a source of essential fatty acids), barleygrass, rice milk, and Cellfood (a cocktail of minerals, enzymes, amino acids, electrolytes and more). Breakfast out of the way, what follows is a gentle but energising yoga class, followed by another green juice (this one with apples, celery, courgette, cucumber, broccoli, spinach and ginger.)

There’s free time for a nap, a walk, or pampering treatment, another juice, a lazy afternoon, more psyllium husk, juice, and a light broth, before the second enema of the day and an optional meditation class. Is it any wonder that I experience no hunger pangs?

On top of all this are the inspiring daily ‘kitchen’ classes led by Melissa, who has a light, fun way of sharing information so that it sinks in. I learn about healthy fats, proteins, carbs, alternative natural sweeteners (brilliant, as my sweet tooth is the bane of my life), dairy replacements, obscure but wondrous supplements, sustainable sources of fish, sound suppliers of organic meat, and the benefits of filtering water.

Bye bye toxins

I salivate over her tantalising cookery demonstrations (faintly tortuous when you are fasting). Guacamole with hidden greens, nutrient-packed smoothies, dipping sauces with tahini and azuki beans, ‘raw’ pasta made from julienned courgettes, flour-free almond cookies – I can’t wait to try them.

After a day, the detox symptoms kick in: my skin erupts, and my head pounds. I can’t shift the migraines, and I began to feel grim. Bodywork therapist Susie Rushton comes to my rescue with a relaxing pummel and a bit of reflexology. They do the trick and the next morning, I wake up clear-headed. More profoundly, I feel I’ve released the residue of emotional pain stored in my cells from a previous relationship, and the toxic pattern that had kept me in it long after I should have let go. For me, this is a big, big deal.

By the last day, when we gently break our fast with steamed broccoli and rice, I’m gliding around untroubled by anything. It’s astonishing the extent to which what we eat and drink can affect our wellbeing.

I’m back home now and a month on, I’ve lost four pounds and feel more alert than usual. I’m still juicing daily, eat more raw foods, have baked a sugar and wheat-free chocolate beetroot cake (strangely yum), sprinkle flaxseeds and wheatgerm on everything, take an Omega 3 supplement, and am soon to invest in a water filter. I’m not perfect – I had a bowl of chips yesterday and I still can throw a spectacular wobbly – but the retreat has been a turning point. Would I do it again? Absolutely.