Can an overnight wellness retreat have any real impact on your health?

Checking into Retreat Palm Dubai MGallery by Sofitel, I'm given 24 hours to relax and recharge my mind, body and spirit

A holistic itinerary featuring full body massages, mindfulness meditations and breathwork sessions are included on this hotel's 24-hour retreat. Photo: The Retreat Palm Dubai MGallery

You know that routine when you're on holiday. It takes four days before you can mentally detach from work and the daily stresses of life at home, giving you two days to sigh relief before you're panicking over airport traffic again.

With this in mind, I'm slightly dubious about how much impact a solo, single-day retreat can have on my well-being. As many will relate, my brain's default setting is overrun with an auto-refilling list of things to do (spiced up with existential anxieties every so often), while my body juggles a mostly sedentary lifestyle interrupted by an intense burst of movement for 45 minutes several times a week.

Sound baths are a go-to solace each month, lifting the burden for a few hours. In the past, I've frequented week-long retreats, which have a more permanent impact on my outlook on life. Currently, dreams of a three-month soul-searching sabbatical are exactly that. So I squeeze in just one day of respite for now, checking into Retreat Palm Dubai MGallery by Sofitel for its Rejuvenate in a Day package, priced from Dh999.

Settling into the 'switch-off' mindset

I roll up around 5.45pm on a Friday, running late from wrapping up the working week. With my tightly scheduled relaxation due to start at precisely 6pm, I'm hurried through check-in straight to the Rayya Wellness Spa on arrival, which makes me feel a bit like a patient being rushed to an operating room.

Within minutes, my body starts reaping the rewards of a deep tissue massage, yet my mind takes a while to catch up, my own tardiness the only culprit. First lesson learnt – one needs to carve time for (at least a little bit of) space between office chair and massage bed, akin to creating a bigger surface area for greater absorption.

Knowing there's no rush back to everyday life does help, however. By the time the massage wraps up, my mental mode has switched, and I'm ready for a half-hour oxygen therapy session.

This entails a dark room, spa beds and a tube of oxygen placed beneath my nostrils in hopes of limiting stress, boosting mood and aiding concentration.

The concept doesn't have me sold initially, but I do feel lighter once the time is up. By the time I'm rotating between sauna, steam and jacuzzi, I have relaxed into the experience.

It's a change of tone, but I'm chilled enough that the bright lights of Vibe restaurant and the sound of the excitable children dining alongside me don't make too much of a dent in my zen. Helping myself to an array of healthy salads (the restaurant's buffet-style dining caters to vegan, gluten-free and paleo diets), I get lost in my audiobook, without the feeling of something more “productive” to do hanging over me.

Making sleep the centrepiece

During week-long mindfulness retreats, sleeping arrangements are purposefully modest and minimal. As for hotel stays, the evening itinerary usually centres on dinner, drinks and perhaps a spot of dancing. Rarely is sleep, in its most luxurious offerings, the main attraction – and herein lies the antidote I crave.

Fully invested in a hotel room with the single purpose of relaxation, I opt for the balcony to read overlooking the sea and under the stars before partaking in the retreat's so-called sleep ritual – a hot bath accommodated with muscle-easing salts and soothing oils.

I'll confess, my phone is within reach the entire evening. Maybe I don't fully switch off, but my batteries are definitely charging. Lesson two – technology isn't inherently the assailant; sometimes, it's just the accomplice in distraction, distancing us from a quiet mind.

I fall asleep easily and wake up feeling refreshed. I'm a little disappointed to see my sleep stats look indistinguishable from any other day, but perhaps that's more proof for mind over matter.

Mindful mornings and gentle movement

Saturday morning starts with a breathwork class with the retreat's wellness trainer and fellow hotel guests. It's a simple practice, so I'm surprised at the mental stillness it brings. We move into hatha flow and break for breakfast, where I wistfully wish all mornings could begin that way.

I return for a one-to-one deep stretching session and leave feeling relaxed and open. Having vowed to add snippets of each to my morning routine, I know it won't stick beyond Wednesday, so instead focus on enjoying how I feel in the moment.

Lesson three – slow but nourishing movement deserves to be prioritised equally to fast-paced cardio and can be just as rewarding. I look into deep-stretching classes around Dubai.

After a few hours spent on the beach and swimming in the sea, I return to Rayya for the final items on my itinerary. Primed from the morning, I easily attune to the sound bath and guided meditation and feel genuinely restored when the hour is up.

Retreating to the real world

Exactly 24 hours later, I check out and head home for a relaxing evening in front of the TV, mental quiet lingering.

By the time I log into work the following morning, saunas and sound baths are at the back of my mind, but I do note how focused I have been as the day comes to a close. Perhaps the retreat powers are operating in the background.

Front of mind, I can confirm that my microdose of retreat wellness has had a positive impact on me beyond the in-moment rewards. Several days later, the mental chatter is operating at a lower volume than before, and I still feel more limber from all the prodding and pulling.

These feelings will continue to dwindle, as will the lessons learnt, alas – but there are certainly worse things to do than seeking relaxation, even if just for one whole day.