The modern yurvedic doctor
Subhash Ranade
Pune, India
I met Dr Ranade after a hysterectomy to get rid of stage IV endometriosis. I’d been on a cocktail of medicines and wanted to detoxify at a cellular level. An intensive 21-day Ayurvedic panchakarma seemed best, but several sexist vaidyas had crossed my path. “Endometriosis is caused by promiscuous behaviour,” one told me. Finally I found calming, confident Ranade, author of more than 140 books on Ayurveda. We met at his modest clinic in Pune. His humour put me at ease as he prescribed simple dietary changes and medicines to take before a deep cleanse at Tanman Ayurvedic Research Centre, which he founded. Here, many of the Ayurvedic subjects have a parallel medical or integrative approach. I wanted a vaidya who was open to looking at disease from multiple perspectives rather than only through the narrow lens of tradition. During my panchakarma, I had oil and milk enemas to remove excess vata, one of the three humours (doshas) in Ayurveda, made of air and space. Vata rules movement in the body and, when the downward flow is blocked, it can lead to endometriosis. My cleanse eliminated the side effects of hormonal treatments, such as brain fog and fat on my ribs, and increased my energy. Every part of me – skin, hair, nails, even the inside of my mouth – felt renewed. As Ranade says, “Our physicians are rounded because we know the benefits and the limits of each science.”
I love this integrated approach. Vasudha Rai tanman.co.in
The low-key yogi
Sandeep Agarwalla
Rishikesh, India
For Sandeep Agarwalla, a disciple of the Bihar School of Yoga’s Swami Niranjanananda Saraswati, yoga is not a twice-weekly cardio workout but a daily discipline to overcome limitations of the body and mind as a preparation for meditative practices. I met him at Ananda in the Himalayas, where he is head of yoga. The highlight of Ananda for me was the personalised yoga and meditation sessions held at the marble music pavilion, where our Om reverberated with the water flowing alongside. Agarwalla emphasised the need for consistency. This can be best achieved through micro-practices rather than the flair and pomp of headstands and 108 surya namaskars: mantra chanting when you wake up for the positive sound vibrations, a few asanas followed by pranayama in the morning and a short meditation before sleeping. As a young man, Agarwalla found his way to the Bihar School in Munger to seek a cure for alopecia. Although he didn’t find that, he felt a change in his energy field and thought process, something he says his friends and family also recognised. He studied there, taught across India, then found his way to Ananda in 2009. Having led its team since 2015, he has increased the focus on meditative practices such as pratyahara (the withdrawal of the senses) and dhyana, the ultimate goal for aspiring yogis. Anindita Ghose anandaspa.com; healingholidays.com
The metaphysical shaman
Mar Harrsen
Ojau and Long Island, USA
Few people have the instant charisma and empathy of Mar Harrsen, a spiritual healer whose journey began after years of suffering from a chronic illness that she was told was incurable. In 2014, she went to Peru, connected with a group of shamans, and found wellness after exploring the use of plants and music in their practices. When I met her, Harrsen was working between California and the East Coast and, within two minutes of our first encounter, I’d confided my life story to her, unexpurgated. I was at Shou Sugi Ban House in the Hamptons; she had set up a base nearby the year before and was a guest therapist at the chic Long Island retreat. During a week that included gong baths and beach-walk meditation, my time with Harrsen was the most remarkable. My itinerary included various options and, as I was more intrigued by shamanism than massage, I chose a session with her. One of her trademark treatments is limpieza – a cleanse. A hen’s egg was stroked across the surface of my limbs, then cracked into a glass of water and the shape of its yolk analysed. The peaks, she explained, represented shock in my system, so we discussed what it could be attributed to, either in childhood or recently. Harrsen then rubbed my arms and legs with a candle, lit it, melted the wax and interpreted the molten remains. She told me that the dramatic peaks represented past emotional shock. I had, indeed, recently suffered a trauma that left me reeling, so an hour of maternal, mystic attention was profoundly, genuinely comforting. Mark C O'Flaherty marharrsen.com
The postural magician
Isabel Tomaz
Cascais, Portugal
I’ve seen many excellent osteopaths in my life and yet Dr Isabel Tomaz at Portugal’s Palácio Estoril Hotel sits spine and shoulders above the crowd. I met her early in 2020, while recovering from a major operation that left me with more metal than bone in my wrist. The accident – a stupid one involving palazzo pants and a kerb – hadn’t just affected my hand but my entire body; I felt clumsy, lopsided and ill at ease in my skin. Palácio Estoril sighs with faded glamour, but its gleaming wellness centre, packed with top-notch specialists, is the real draw. Tomaz read my body like a book, tracing structural issues back to old operations and injuries. Who knew that a stressed liver could have an impact on the movement of a shoulder? I was gently chided for my shallow breathing, a habit she correctly guessed I’d carried since childhood. “Breathing well eases stress, improves the immune system and can strengthen your back,” she said. After just two sessions, I left with a hand that no longer resembled a claw and a body that felt like it belonged to me again. I can’t count how many posturally impeded people I’ve sent her way. Jane Alexander palacioestorilhotel.com; healingholidays.com
The inspirational bodyworker
Stefano Battaglia
South Tyrol, Italy
I first met Stefano Battaglia in 2016 at the Vair Spa at Puglia’s Borgo Egnazia, where the retreat’s literature called him a Sicilian shaman. It sounded hokey to me (a deep-tissue massage seemed a more likely way of letting go of stress) but I knew he had a cult following for his healing hands and supernatural intuition. Within about 20 minutes into my treatment with him, I was weeping. By just working on my body, Battaglia had divined, among other things, that I had been abused as a child, that I had been forced to change from left- to right-handed (thanks nuns) and that I was carrying a huge amount of unprocessed grief from my recent separation. Not a word had been exchanged. While I am an absolute believer in talk therapy, I also think that, for true healing, bodywork must also be involved. As Bessel van der Kolk writes in The Body Keeps the Score, “Trauma victims cannot
recover until they become familiar with and befriend sensations in their bodies.” Battaglia helps make that befriending supported and safe. I have seen him twice since that initial consultation. He has a star role in the spa programme at Preidlhof in South Tyrol, but I would travel anywhere in the world for a session with him, for this sense that I am truly, deeply healing. Ondine Cohane preidlhof.it; healingholidays.com
The functional medical expert
George Leon
Mystras, Greece
George Leon is an expert in metabolic biophysics and nutritional biochemistry. I first came across him at Euphoria Retreat, tucked below 13th-century Mystras in the Peloponnese, where he brings his considerable skills to the Advanced Weight Management programme, delving into individual metabolisms using epigenetics and biomarkers. “Everyone has a metabolic disorder,” he told me. He measures the body’s levels of glutathione to understand how it is functioning, then devises a programme of nutrition and exercise to reset the metabolism. He pinpointed the root of my constant weight gain as low blood glucose, an underactive thyroid and an elevated cortisol level. “It was probably triggered by a hormonal event, such as childbirth,” he said. He was confident he could fix it through his nutritional programme, resetting my metabolism by tailoring a diet to my needs that I could continue at home for the following three months. A new menu was sent to me at the start of each month, once Leon’s team had received my updated weight and measurements. Thanks to his personalised approach, I finally started to lose weight. Needless to say, I have been a devotee ever since. In the ancient words of Hippocrates, “Let food be thy medicine.” Mary Lussiana euphoriaretreat.com; healingholidays.com
The spiritual mystic
Yamuna
Guanacaste, Costa Rica
There is a saying in Costa Rica: “Only madmen and mystics change the world,” and Yamuna, a Chinese-German-Indigenous Costa Rican with a Hindu name, is the real deal. I first met him in the dry coastal forest of Guanacaste. He welcomed me with the call of his conch shell and a waft of incense. So began a life-changing healing session that lifted a miasma of apocalyptic gloom that had settled on me during lockdown. After imbibing his Chinese grandmother’s healing techniques, including acupuncture, reiki and herbal medicine, Yamuna trained in Ayurveda in India. These days he’s sought-after by celebrity clients including Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt, although he also practises from his own clinic and trains women in the healing arts. Therapy may include Buddhist bells, aura polishing, warming oils, hot stones and herbal poultices. As the energy transmitted from him charges through your being, it triggers an intense emotional release that will have you in tears or, in my case, laughing like a drain. The enveloping hug at the end of my two hours was an acknowledgement of the cathartic spiritual journey we’d made. Catherine Fairweather @holistic_sessions
The grief guru
Donna Lancaster
UK and online
Years ago, a breakdown led Donna Lancaster to start asking difficult questions, and she’s never stopped. Formerly head of teaching at the Hoffman Institute, she set up the phenomenal Bridge Retreat with Gabby Kreuger, offering six-day radical therapy sessions to overcome grief. When these stopped during the pandemic, Lancaster focused on her online courses in self-development. Grief, as Lancaster defines it, isn’t solely bereavement, but a natural emotional reaction to any kind of significant loss. The Bridge process can be observed in the Amazon docu-film Love(d), and involves brutal honesty, bodywork, ritual and journalling. Now, alongside her in-person work, Lancaster has created Deepening Into Life, a six-month online programme for developing spiritual foundations. It’s a natural follow-on from the healing offered via The Bridge: everything is still anchored in her warm and engaged presence. “When we learn to lean into a deeper dimension of life, we learn to trust in life’s ebbs and flows,” she explains. Lancaster now refers to herself as an elder in training: someone who “turns their wounds into wisdom and shares them”. Lydia Bell deepeningintolife.com
The uplifting psychologist
Bruno Ribeiro
Alicante, Spain
Five days at Sha Wellness Clinic in Spain and here was my plan: eat clean, shift the winter weight, head home lean and perky. Then the doctor asked me if I ever felt depressed and I burst into tears. My pamper programme was changed to a burnout regime and filled with mindfulness, acupuncture and sessions with a clinical psychologist. Professor Bruno Ribeiro is the head of Sha’s Cognitive and Emotional Health Development department. He’s kind, funny, charming and uses psychological analysis and Nasa-developed kit on patients suffering from insomnia, migraines, addiction, Alzheimer’s and depression. He popped a stretchy band on my head and there on a massive screen were my brainwaves. “Your sleep and stress levels are good,” said Ribeiro. “But your gamma levels? They’re low. I think you’re more depressed than you think you are.” He gave me psychotherapy analysis, focus tests and Transcranial Direct Current Stimulation: electric signalling to stimulate my brain’s frontal cortex, which handles memory, problem-solving and emotions. He popped electrodes through tiny holes in a neoprene hat over my head, I felt a tingling sensation and then after 10 minutes – WOW – the world seemed brighter and more colourful. “Ah yes,” said Ribeiro, “It’s working – I can see your pupils dilating.” My brain felt buzzy and creative. That night I slept like a lamb. I had another session. Since then, my blues have yet to return. Alice B-B shawellnessclinic.com; healingholidays.com
The gong master
Leo Cosendai
London, UK
Originally a musician from Switzerland, Leo Cosendai is one of those practitioners who almost invented their genre. He is a gong master, sound healer and artist at the top of his game. My first taste of a sound bath, years ago in South Africa, was so uplifting, transporting and mood-boosting that, once home, I bought some singing bowls. I wanted to learn from the best, so I joined Cosendai’s 200-hour training course. Over weeks and months, I was bathed in his powerful, beautifully controlled gong playing. As I lay comfortably warm and cosy, eye mask on, the sound waves washed through my body – my bones and blood a superconductor of sound. Because the mind can’t follow the random patterns of the gong, it gives up and lets go. I slipped into that delicious state between wakefulness and sleep that’s so restorative. Last year Cosendai launched Om, an intimate sound cave at The Other House in South Kensington with the world’s largest gongs (a magnificent 80-inch one and its 50-inch little sister) in a space smaller than most London kitchens. The venue is for just four guests at a time. When I booked into Om, Cosendai and his wife Sara, a naturopath and clinical aromatherapist, greeted me with grounding yet uplifting scents of wild sagebrush and palo santo. Their controlled, subtle playing of these two spectacular instruments held me for an hour in a state of bliss. Laura Ivill otherhouse.com; leocosendai.com
The joy bringer
Ibu Heny Ferawati
Sayan, Bali
Four Seasons Resort Bali at Sayan had been on my spa wish list for years, not just for its mind-bending architecture and green-on-green jungle immersion, but because I was simply desperate to encounter Ibu Heny Ferawati, former Buddhist nun, wellness mentor and creator of the resort’s Sacred Nap programme; her reputation preceded her. When we finally met last year, she didn’t disappoint. “Call me Fera,” she said with a megawatt smile. She’s a beguiling blend of cheeky schoolgirl and tranquil teacher, seamlessly segueing the spiritual with the mundane and adding a delicious dose of fun. “I spent seven years being a naughty girl,” she said. “I felt I needed to balance it out, so I became a nun. Seven years later I left to become a mother.” I couldn’t get enough of her energy, that heady mix of kindness, joy, wisdom and humour. She taught me mala meditation, practised in a cycle of 108 mantras, in the serene yoga bale overlooking paddy fields, gently chanting “Om Shanti” as I fumbled with my beads, with the rush of the sacred Ayung River in the background. She eased me into a silk cocoon and swayed and lullabied me into the deepest rest I’ve ever had. I’ve met a lot of spiritual teachers but never have I wanted to take one home with me quite so much. Jane Alexander fourseasons.com
The horse whisperer
Andreas Liefooghe
London, UK
Wearing a flat cap rather than a Stetson, Dr Andreas Liefooghe watched me expectantly as I stroked one of his thoroughbreds in London’s Richmond Park. Liefooghe uses horse power to help people unlock their emotions. A lifelong horseman as well as a psychotherapist and psychoanalyst, he merged work and pleasure after seeing traumatised ex-Navy Seals respond to equine therapy. He now uses it to treat everything from addiction to depression. Horses speed things up, he says, because people can attune to animals that scare easily but don’t hold on to their anxiety. In Richmond there was no riding involved; instead, I chatted to the horse and was asked to build an enclosure and encourage him in. While I’d shy away from conventional therapy, when Liefooghe asked if I wanted to put a problem in the box, it seemed natural to reference my grief following my mother’s death. When I told him I couldn’t get the horse to move, Liefooghe calmly queried if I’m stuck too, in grief. Finally, my four-footed friend decided to inspect the area I’d created for him and I felt my spirit shift. He merely crossed the paddock, but I sensed I had started a much more significant journey. Jane Knight operationcentaur.com
The stellar fasciatherapist
Patrick Provost
Monte Carlo, Monaco
In 1995, when fasciatherapy was relatively unknown, Patrick Provost was plucked from a spa in Brittany by Monaco’s Prince Rainier to join the hand-picked team at the new Thermes Marins Monte-Carlo, the principality’s state-of-the-art thalassotherapy spa. These days, the therapist and former osteopath is a legend among his steadfast clientele of tightly wound execs and high-level athletes – a “sorcerer”, some whisper. There’s nothing mystical about Provost’s technique (gentle manual manipulation to liberate bodily tension), but it is far from being a massage. When I first saw him in 2000, for a blocked lower back caused by lifting a heavy object, his hands hovered over me, barely grazing the skin, stimulating the fascia (membranes that envelop muscles and organs). After a physical or emotional shock, these tighten and prevent energy flow, like a wrinkled sheet on an unmade bed that needs smoothing. For me, it was due to the emotional trauma of losing my mother. Wordlessly, Provost set about unblocking problem zones in the solar plexus, starting with a featherlight touch on my skull, and moved to my arms, legs and torso. When it was over, my back was profoundly relaxed and I was sky-high on new-found energy. He has remained my go-to ever since. Lanie Goodman montecarlosbm.com
The Temazcal guide
Yaotekatl Luis Zepeda
Riviera Maya, Mexico
“When people hear the word shaman, they think of an old man in animal skins,” says Yaotekatl Luis Zepeda. “That’s not me – I have tattoos, I use Instagram, I do meetings on Zoom. It’s about being open to learning, that’s what makes a good healer.” Zepeda was born in Mexico City and learnt his early spiritual practices from grandfather figures and a year-long stay with the Huichol tribe in the Sierra Madre mountains. I met him in Chablé Maroma in the Riviera Maya. I was going through one of the worst periods of health in my life and was hamstrung by worries about my future. I was wary of the gruelling sweat-lodge-style Temazcal experience at first, as I’d heard tales of claustrophobia and fainting. But Zepeda was infectiously gung-ho, taking me through the ceremony’s ancient chants and drumming as we hunched together in a stone hut, pouring water on blazing “grandmother stones” (“older than we are”), burning copal incense and filling the space with intense heat and steam. As the session progressed and the hut sweltered, my limbs tingled intensely and I felt the thump of my heartbeat in my ears, but I breathed more deeply and easily than I had for a long while. I felt as if my mind and body were being cleaned. “Some people see visions of their ancestors,” Zepeda told me as I emerged more than an hour later, red-faced and drenched in sweat. I blinked, euphoria flooding my body. I had seen something in the hut: a shadow hovering above Zepeda’s left shoulder. Not malevolent but protective, as though someone was there watching over me. I exited with incredible clarity of mind. “Every ceremony is sacred,” said Zepeda as we caught our breath. “But it’s all about what you need from the journey. Now look ahead, breathe deeply and put your feet on the earth.” Lizzie Pook chablehotels.com
The blind healer
Ibu Ketut Mursi
Ubud, Bali
Let’s get the Eat, Pray, Love clichés out of the way. Admittedly I fled to Bali at a difficult time, but I was there for escapism rather than enlightenment. Or so I thought. A friend versed in spiritual matters insisted I visit Ibu Ketut Mursi, the intuitive blind healer at Mandapa, a Ritz-Carlton Reserve in Ubud. The resort slopes towards the Ayung River, a blossom-soaked Eden in the dip of a lush valley. Right on the water’s edge, the spa is imbued with regenerative energy and has a pacifying air. Just as well, I was nervous. During something akin to a massage and a reflexology session, I was patted and stroked from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes, as Mursi divined information. She relayed her insights, covering everything from my characteristic nuances and job prospects to future romances. It was encouraging: I was given specific timescales and details of forthcoming good fortune. I was uplifted by some profound comments and moved by others. I left dazed, grateful and more at peace. Though I can’t fully explain what happened, I know healing took place. John O'Ceallaigh ritzcarlton.com
The TCM leader
Troy Sing
Hong Kong, China
Australia-born Sing is one of Hong Kong’s most lauded Traditional Chinese Medicine practitioners. He specialises in male and female fertility and women’s health, but I first attended his cosy clinic at Health Wise Chinese Medicine in 2000 to help with sinus issues. That he was a native English speaker (unusual back then) was reassuring, as he helped me understand why he was combining acupuncture in certain areas of my body with a customised herbal tonic. I returned often, most notably for help with conceiving my second child, and ended up writing a book with him about the traditional Chinese path to health. For Sing, Chinese medicine is about releasing blockages and regaining balance between yin and yang. He is eloquent on fertility. “Every organ needs to be working at its best to facilitate pregnancy,” he explains. Acupuncture at specific meridians, combined with moxibustion and taking Chinese herbs, opened my body for conception. Sing now treats an increasing number of men for issues related to sperm production, quality and swim ability, many of which he believes are due to environmental toxins. Years later, the same women who came for fertility treatments return for help with menopause. Kate O'brien chinesemed.hk