A nourishing recharge with Luul Retreats in England
Emine Kali Rushton reviews a yoga and wellness retreat in Kent and discovers a whole new way to begin a year, how to sleep like a bear and some wholesome deliciousness
Covid, redundancy, a big career shift and the new year arrived with a deep-felt need to shake things up. On my way to Luul, in the cab from the train station, I told Mary and Lou, two fellow retreaters who’d hitched a ride: ‘I just feel a bit blah. Like I need to get things moving. I want to feel stretched out and less prickly.’
That’s the thing about January – even when we do our best to dodge all that ‘new year, new you’ propaganda, we’re naturally, collectively wired to want to make the most of a fresh start.
I’ve practised yoga, on and off, for ten years, but my choices are mostly restorative –yoga nidra, yin and a lot of time face-hugging my mat, in child’s pose. For that reason, I’ve always avoided retreats and classes where the focus is on dynamic movement and challenging asana… I don’t want to be in an environment that feels competitive or rigid – I get enough of that in everyday life.
So, Luul’s approach – set out by founder Stephanie Howard – an experienced vinyasa and yin yoga teacher, struck a chord. Her passion for supporting other women to reset and restore is the driving force behind her wellness breaks, which are a really refreshing mix of the dynamic and the peaceful, the energised and the still.
Add to that seriously good food – catered by veg-loving sustainable-super-chef Sophie Gordon – lashings of country-air, long, winding walks around the Kentish countryside and time by the fire with a good book (or two), and this two-night, three-day break held all the seeds for a blooming brilliant, restorative escape.
“I felt as though every thread of my being had been plucked and stretched… I felt vital, strong, liquid. Nourished too – as much by the yoga, teaching and setting, as by the food, which was a delicious highlight”
Held at The Quaives, a beautiful country estate close to Canterbury (15 mins in a taxi from the station), the vibe is low-key luxe – 19 acres of open space, private gardens, a swimming lake and wood-fired hot tub. There’s a home (of-dreams)-away-from-home vibe to this place – open-plan, self-service kitchen for endless cuppas and a bottomless fruit bowl, plus a ‘snug’ area in the same space: roomy sofas, blankets and the crackle of a log-burning stove.
We arrived at 2pm, and with our first yin yoga class and circle at 4pm, I embraced a welcome chance to land and explore my digs: Bumble Bee Cottage – a beautiful, cosy, minimalist haven with neutral earth tones, wood-burner, my own well-equipped kitchen, generous en-suite with enormous shower and a seriously comfy king-sized bed. The wee bag of goodies in the room contained a mini Neom hand cream and body wash, a space mask (that warms up and smells of lavender, for sweet dreams) and a small vial of essential oil, which I rubbed into the soles of my feet before bed (slept like a bear).
Then, a convivial hour in the kitchen getting to know some of my fellow retreaters – a big group of 20 women, mostly mums in their 40s and 50s, some from France, Italy, Ireland and the UK. This was helped by some just-out-of-the-oven cake (scrumptious, nourishing orange and olive oil, and moreish dark chocolate and thyme) and several cups of tea.
Luul’s wellness breaks are a refreshing and balanced mix of optional enriching activities – I spent a lovely half-hour sniffing essential oils and learning about their myriad benefits with Holistic Health Coach Talula Henrick, while others enjoyed massages, dips in the hot tub, brave dunks in the ice-cold lake and invigorating walks around the estate.
Thankfully, there are no 7am wake-up calls either – my pet peeve whenever I’m on retreat and don’t actually have to be up at the crack of dawn for work or the school run.
Steph, too, sets the tone from the beginning. She’s chatty, funny, curious, laid-back and honest. And she teaches with a mixture of strong direction and lighthearted flow – funky playlists, hands-on adjustments (supported by the wonderfully gentle Siew Yue Rivaux) and lots of spoken encouragement.
She also strikes a good balance between regularly offering more restorative poses during both her yin and vinyasa classes, while also knowing her crowd. Most of the women on the retreat are regular power yoginis – several take a vinyasa class with Steph, a few times a week. And they want to be challenged. There’s that odd wiring we have in the West sometimes, thinking that if it doesn’t hurt, it’s not working. So, in my first-ever vinyasa class, I did feel a bit ‘fish out of water’ at times. Aware that my shoulder is a weak spot, I didn’t want to push my body, nor did I want to sweat, do a headstand or try a flashy yoga pose (Crow, fly on by).
But that’s just me. And I also felt no shame in going more slowly, taking breaks, resting in child’s pose for longer than most. As Steph reminded us, often: ‘You don’t have to make it harder for yourself.’
Similarly, on day two, my shoulder having (figuratively) hit a wall the day before, I chose to sit my second vinyasa class out – and instead of getting up at 8am, I allowed myself that loveliest luxury of all: the ability to wake up naturally, with no alarm, before curling up in the sun-lit kitchen with a book, before brunch.
Every day also offered a quiet reflective ‘held’ space in the form of a guided circle. Kate Thomas, our life coach and circle facilitator, used a combination of guided meditation and NLP (neurolinguistic programming) to take us into visualisations, where we were able to explore our emotions, hopes, fears and dreams. This time for reflection, which always came after our yin classes, had a peaceful, liminal quality about it. I felt peaceful and dreamy but I didn’t want to share. The group felt too big for that.
Though just two nights, the break felt expansive and generous, especially with the 90-minute yin classes, which also involved moments of massage and adjustment. I felt as though every thread of my being had been plucked and stretched. I felt vital, strong, liquid. Nourished too – as much by the yoga, teaching and setting, as by the food, which was a delicious highlight.
Brunches that served up bircher with seasonal compote and nut butters, chased with buckwheat flatbreads, herby eggs, roasted tomatoes and wilted spinach. They were necessarily hearty, as the noon meal had to keep us all going until 7pm dinner, by which point, I was utterly ravenous to the point of h-anger (yep, even with the mid-afternoon tea and cake break).
But dinner WAS worth the wait. Big sharing plates of roasted veg (the harissa cauliflower was incredible); unctuous, satiating risotto with seasonal root veg and chestnuts – oozy and creamy and herby all at once; deepest bowls of crisp and zesty seasonal salads: kale and orange and almond; white bean ‘smash’ with lashings of olive oil, re-imagined the next day at brunch, where it was perfect on toast with a pinch of chilli.
There was good wine for all who fancied it too (served via an honesty bar), and simple refined-sugar-free desserts of roasted pears with tahini caramel, and fruity crumble, with turmeric cream. Wholesome, nourishing, and delicious with it.
Which rather sums it up for me too – 48 hours of wholesome deliciousness… which has somehow stuck. I’ve noticed how much gentler I’ve been with myself this January as a result. How I’m starting my days in less of a whirlwind. How I have continued with a wee bit of yoga at home. Just two days away, and the year began in a whole new way. Steph’s definitely onto something here… and I’d return to soak up a bit more of it, in a heartbeat.
LUUL currently run retreats in Europe.
