I’ve never been on a wellness retreat before. As a fitness writer, I love movement in general, but tend to err towards physical pursuits – you’re more likely to catch me in the gym than a Yin yoga class.
My editor, on the other hand, is a veteran of the wellness scene; someone who knows her ashwagandha from her ashtanga. So when the opportunity to go on a “wellness weekend” cropped up in my inbox, she suggested I take it.
But where was this getaway, promising to show me the birthplace of Pilates, contrast therapy, breathwork and a guided walking meditation?
My mind flicked to India, or somewhere in the Mediterranean that might offer brief relief from another chilly English winter. But I was way off the mark: I was jetting off to the Isle of Man.
The King of Mann
From March, you can fly from my home city of Bristol to the Isle of Man for as little as £24. But I was travelling in January, so instead headed to Gatwick for the 80-minute flight.
Upon landing, I was met by Robert Currey – a colourful character whose CV included being a celebrated astrologer, accomplished racewalker, ancestor of the ancient Kings of Mann (“my cousin has a stronger claim”) and owner of The Mill House, a 500-year-old converted mill where I would be staying.
Hospitable to the hilt, he immediately launched into a verbal tour of Manx customs and followed this with an actual tour when we arrived at the house. This included a labyrinthine series of staircases and interconnecting rooms that would leave David Bowie scratching his head, followed by a postcard-ready riverside glen in the garden.
The home of Pilates
At this point, you may still be questioning the Isle of Man’s wellness credentials. In all honesty, I was too. A host from Visit Isle of Man soon set me straight: it’s the home of Pilates.
When the First World War broke out, German-born Joseph Pilates was travelling with a circus in the UK. Under the Aliens Restrictions Act of 1914, he was arrested and eventually shipped off to Knockaloe internment camp on the Isle Of Man – a tricky spot to escape from.
As fellow prisoners’ moods and mental health deteriorated around him, Pilates noticed the stray cats on camp remained full of vigour. At least, that’s the tale he told Sports Illustrated in 1962.
“He saw [the cats], when they had nothing else to do, stretching their legs out, stretching, stretching, keeping their muscles limber, alive,” the interview reads. “He began working out an orderly series of exercises to stretch the human muscles.” Thus, Pilates was born.
Read more: Six reformer Pilates exercises to do with just a resistance band
Better than an app
But Pilates wasn’t the first activity on the agenda; that spot went to a guided walking meditation led by mindfulness teacher and TEDx speaker Mike Kewley.
I had experimented with meditation before. Like many others, this involved downloading the Headspace app, sitting in my bedroom after a manic work day and hitting play. My ever-active mind promptly began planning dinners for the next few days, as an American voice in the background told me to focus on my breath.
Taking place in a forest near South Barrule, the session with Mike was more fruitful. The eldest son of a Buddhist meditation master, he sought the secret to happiness after struggling with mental health in his teens. Happiness, he concluded, is the absence of negative thought and emotion, rather than “an external accident”. Meditation, or “paying attention on purpose”, is a way to access this.
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A walking meditation can best be described as walking incredibly slowly, focusing intensely on the feedback from your various senses. At the sound of a gong, I was to freeze for a few seconds, then carry on.
In truth, I felt a tad silly at first, ambling around a forest in silence like a zombie. But I later found myself zoning out and not remembering the process of travelling from tree to tree. As the physical act of walking distracted me, my mind quietened down a bit, providing a welcome alternative to my usual world of Slack messages, WhatsApp groups and deadlines.
The day was rounded off with a tasty dinner at the island’s only plant-based cafe, VIBE, and a dark skies talk from Howard Parkin, fresh from being awarded an MBE in the New Year’s Honours List. The latter was particularly interesting, with the Isle of Man boasting an enviable portion of the UK’s dark sky sites thanks to the lack of light pollution.
Read more: Why you don’t need to walk 10,000 steps a day for most health benefits
A quest and a scrape with death
The next morning, a minibus whizzed me into Peel: a picturesque town on the island’s west coast. Having lived in Cornwall for a few years, the place felt somewhat familiar with its colourful beachfront cottages, alongside lush surrounding hills and a harbour wall sprouting from a ruined Viking castle.
On the way there the minibus driver informed me that, when we crossed “Fairy Bridge”, I was to greet the fairies in the Manx language – moghrey mie (morr-a-my), meaning good morning.
“What would happen if I didn’t?” I asked, intrigued. The fairies would curse us, the van would probably crash and there was a chance everyone on board would die, was the answer. I dutifully bid the fairies good day as we drove over the diminutive bridge.
Thankfully this worked, and I arrived in Peel safely, ready for something called Isle of Man (IOM) Quest. Started by a couple of local lads, it’s a team treasure hunt that regularly sees hundreds of people compete for a cash prize.
It starts with three challenges sent via WhatsApp – for example, craft Spongebob Squarepants out of whatever you have to hand. Once there is photographic evidence these challenges have been completed, you receive a riddle for the first checkpoint. Teams must take a selfie at each checkpoint to prove they’ve been there, then scan a QR code to unlock another riddle. There’s also a no running rule, so cardio bunnies can’t romp home in a matter of minutes.
The game was bonkers but brilliant. Questing around 1,000-year-old castle walls felt like something out of a fantasy book or kids' TV show (Raven, anyone?), and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
With the fairies still fresh in my mind and miles between some checkpoints, I took this opportunity to ask native teammates more about superstitions and lore.
“There’s another really big one,” a teammate told me. “Nobody on the island will say r-a-t. It’s like a dirty word. They physically won’t do it.”
Three hours, 10km and several superstition chats later, my team wrapped things up with a wooden spoon performance. We then piled into a pub for fish and chips, as well as a scallop-esque local delicacy called Queenies. If this falls under the wellness retreat umbrella, count me in.
Read more: Five reason why I walk 10,000 steps with a weighted backpack every day
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Blown away by breathwork
Despite only being on the Isle of Man for 55 hours, there was a lengthy itinerary. Next on the agenda was breathwork, followed by a spot of dinner, contrast therapy (flitting between the Irish Sea and a sauna in Port Erin) and Yin yoga.
I went into the breathwork with a degree of scepticism but resolved to approach it with an open mind. Historically, I’ve preferred using movement-based activities like CrossFit and running to unwind as they allow me to settle into a meditative-esque rhythm while working up a sweat. But breathwork won me over.
The breathing was rhythmic, then dynamic, then I was asked to hold my breath. Somehow, minutes passed without any discomfort or need to inhale. After the session, I felt like I was walking on air, and thanked instructor Kate Bergquist (of Soul Adventures) for a fun 10 minutes. “We were going for almost an hour,” she replied, laughing.
It might be a matter of personal preference, but I found it harder to settle into the Yin yoga class later on. However dubious you might be, if you get the chance to try breathwork, I’d recommend giving it a go.
Read more: An expert says you should be doing these four breathing exercises every day
Don’t underestimate the Irish Sea
As the sun dipped behind the horizon, we arrived in Port Erin for the evening’s final activities: a slap-up dinner at the Cosy Nook, an old fisherman’s cottage-turned-cafe overlooking the beach, then a “full moon beach sauna experience” at Kishtey Cheh Beach Spa.
The dinner was delicious – as was everything I ate over the course of the weekend for that matter. Chefs were keen to share the stories behind their ingredients, many of which were sourced within a stone’s throw from my plate, and they tasted all the better for it.
I was more apprehensive about the sauna that followed because I knew it was preceded by a cold plunge dunk or swim in the Irish Sea. The idea is that you transition between the two environments, hot and cold, semi-regularly over the course of an hour for a variety of benefits.
As someone who’s notoriously rubbish with the cold but loves swimming in the sea, I thought starting in the ocean might help me ease into the process. Joining us from the breathwork session, Kate’s advice was to control my breathing and avoid panic, so I attempted to saunter into the water with nonchalance.
It sort of worked. I was freezing, sure, but I committed to a few minutes of a poor man’s front crawl, then left the water with that fizzing feeling that always accompanies a sea dip.
Nattering with a fellow swimmer as I traipsed up the beach, we agreed it was inhumanly cold, but shared our surprise at how smoothly it went. At this point my lower jaw began to chatter, so I upped my pace.
Looking like an upturned barrel, the sauna loomed like an oasis in the desert. Once inside, it took a good few minutes to remember what my toes felt like, and another chunk of time before anyone could persuade me to leave its lovely, warm embrace.
From there, I dunked myself into one of two cold plunges. This, I didn’t like – while I know there’s good they can do, I’m yet to be convinced by some of the purported benefits of ice baths. I stayed in for the allotted few minutes and not a second longer, then retreated back to my beloved sauna, where I spent a disproportionate amount of the hour.
Read more: Are ice baths worth the pain?
The final morning
The trip wouldn’t have been complete without a Pilates class on the methodology’s founding ground. The Knockaloe visitor centre has a dedicated Pilates exhibit and plenty of information about the internment camp, but it was shut for the winter during my visit, so I instead headed to Reform Wellness Studio for an enjoyable hour-long session before my short flight home.
Read more: Six months of reformer Pilates made more difference to my core than in 10 years of abs workouts
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The verdict: The Isle of Man wellness retreat
This jam-packed trip isn’t something you can book as a package deal. It was designed to give a whistle-stop tour of what the island offers for wellness-minded folks, in particular, and each of the activities can be booked or experienced in isolation.
As a fitness writer still foreign to many elements of the wellness world, I found it fascinating to sample new techniques and modalities. Some I struggled with, such as meditation and Yin yoga, but that doesn’t mean I took nothing away. I had fun. I learnt the benefits of approaching new things with an open mind, and perhaps with practice, I could find a way to chime with them.
Other activities I loved immediately; shortly after touching down on home soil, I began searching for breathwork classes and scenic saunas near where I live.
But for me, the real star of the show was the Isle Of Man itself. It’s beautiful, there are oodles of things to do for outdoorsy sorts like myself, plus the flight there costs a fraction of a peak train ticket from Bristol to London. The food was phenomenal, the folklore was rife, and as a result, I’ve already suggested a summer visit to friends.
“You’re going to love it,” I messaged excitedly upon my return home. “Just, whatever you do, don’t say r-a-t.”
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