Zulal Wellness Resort is a beautiful, beautiful property that, I will admit, put me through the ringer.

Part of it was probably (definitely) my fault, enticed as I was by the exotic location, the brand name, the newness, the amazing photos—thus neglecting the fine print, which very clearly states that the resort “encourages you to leave all your electronic devices in your room and enjoy the calm and private spaces of Zulal throughout your journey.” 

For many, this simple directive will have a most opposite effect—that of triggering utter crisis mode. Of surreptitiously sneaking one’s phone into the privacy of the sauna or arctic cave, swathed in a makeshift swaddle forged of a fluffy white towel. Of demanding that one rummage through one’s bag periodically for the comforting and cool touch of that smooth LCD screen, unwarmed by near-constant use. Of thinking, “Just how addicted am I to this thing?”

It isn’t just a device ban, either. As the first overseas outpost of Thailand’s renowned Chiva-Som, Zulal adheres to the strict standards of its Asian forefather, which also means no outside food, leading to “Dategate”: an awkward interruption and confiscation upon arrival, when a luggage scan reveals my boxes of contraband dates smuggled from the Dubai airport.

As mortified and appalled as I am in these early moments, I also do realise—as the hours go by—how very silly it all seems to make a big deal of this, in the grand scheme of what I have come to do, which is not to make love to my phone or gorge myself on the sweet fruits of the Middle East (and anyway, they provide dates in my in-room snack bar at no extra charge).

For 26 years, despite offers, the folks at Chiva-Som in Hua Hin had no interest in franchising, or opening a second property, until the state of Qatar itself—recognising a region-wide health crisis triggered by a booming economy, indulgent lifestyles, and little understanding of wellness—came calling, echoing the mission that Chiva-Som initially had for Thailand a quarter century ago.

Zulal Wellness Resort, which opened last year, is the first immersive well-being resort in the region, and is but the first step in making wellness a buzzword in the Middle East. Come November, the country will also host the annual Global Wellness Summit, which is kind of a big deal, and will bring in top-of-class professionals and practitioners from around the world.

Just how does that affect the guest at Zulal? Let us count the ways.

The country’s wealth and landscape are but two factors that instantly wow. Zulal boasts 180 rooms, and a sprawling property with pools, lagoons, endless facilities, and separate buildings for every type of treatment on offer. And everything is nice—really nice. The House of Wisdom alone, through which one enters the property, is an architectural masterpiece, with a salon for enjoying tea, an apothecary where traditional Arabic and Islamic medicine brews are made, and a library featuring some 3,000 books on shelves that reach two storeys high. And just casually, under my feet as I stroll through, is a carpet that Queen Elizabeth II gifted to the Sheikha. A large stone, as high as my waist, happens to be a meditative art piece by Anish Kapoor, and has its own custom-built house, sitting casually in the middle of the lobby.

I start my Zulal journey with a consultation, where the good doctor Rubia considers my lifestyle choices, and promptly suggests a highly chilled-out “Mind-Body Wellness” retreat that is emphatically not what I wanted, having thrilled over the brochure’s high-tech offerings, aesthetics treatments, and physiotherapy equipment. 

The doctor, however, suggests that I am stressed (I have been robbed of my snacks and deterred from reaching for my device, you know). She prescribes me lots of stretching. Lots of massages. More stretching. A little bit of reiki. And nothing else. This is perplexing to me, a journalist well-versed in wellness, for whom reiki is entry-level energy work, who is on a first-name basis with her aesthetics doctor, who does yoga three to five times a week, and who wonders what she’s going to write after a week of just stretching.

When it comes to diet, Dr Rubia says, eat what you want! All the food at Zulal is healthy and portion-controlled. Having been fully prepared to begrudgingly guzzle concoctions of bentonite clay and psyllium husk, I am concerned by this programme, but accept it since it allows me to eat anything and everything I want from the all-you-can-eat menu. 

The resort is split into two halves: the family-oriented Discovery, and the pricier, adults-only Serenity. Those in the latter programme have access to the whole resort, while Discovery patrons are restricted to their half, but can add on treatments à la carte that are part of the Serenity programmes. The idea is that a family that gets well together, stays together, so on the Discovery side, there are more family-oriented programmes, along with “couples” rooms for parent-child treatments.

After getting hopelessly lost several times, I finally get the lay of the land, and enjoy the prerogative of dining between the three restaurants I can visit as part of my Serenity privileges. The menus change frequently, and it’s exceedingly easy to make good decisions when calorie counts and macro breakdowns are highlighted under each dish.

Over the three days I am at Zulal, I begin to ease slowly out of my city-induced haze to indulge in such dramatic activities as staring at the sky over breakfast and lunch, or walking along the beach with no other purpose than to connect with the earth. I do the stretching, alone and with facilitation. I let the warm beds of the treatment room lull me to sleep without feeling the need to fill the air by speaking to the therapist, and even give myself permission to skip tai chi, the sole “fitness” session of the entire journey. I don’t exactly stop reaching for my phone, but I do stop exposing it to extreme temperatures, and I allow myself to be late for everything, rather than doing constant time checks via my device’s lock screen.

And, it turns out—certainly, you knew where this was going—that Dr Rubia probably did prescribe me just exactly what I didn’t want, but needed. Which is to dial down and switch off, rather than get riled up and turned on by the bells and whistles that are available.

Wellness these days can feel like a contest of one-upmanship: about getting your YTT200, having the best energy healer on speed dial, visiting the hottest and newest health resort in the world. And then, of course, sharing all of that on Instagram, because if it didn’t happen on social media, did it even happen at all?

My point is, simply, that you can visit Zulal’s website and learn all about the superlative facilities, on-staff doctors, and comprehensive programmes. You can be assured of the high standard of rooms, the attentive staff, and the seamless experience. To be honest, you can also flout the phone rules if you really choose; nobody is going to be mean about it, you’re a paying guest. But you can’t do the maths on wellness, and you can’t do the maths on a Zulal experience—you can only live through it and tell the tale to know if everything adds up. In my case, it did contribute to a trimmer physique, a temporary release from chronic back pain, and quite a few jolts of inspiration, a by-product of allowing my mind to sit empty for once in its life. 

Retreats—I’ve done a few. But none quite like this one.

All images courtesy of Zulal Wellness Resort.