Fitness

Heat Treatment

Feeling the need for a bit more fitness, I headed to the neighboring CuisinArt resort and spa. Yes, CuisinArt. Though it sounds more like a retreat for suburban toques than people interested in pursuing a healthy lifestyle, there is a full fitness schedule, including aquatic kickboxing, Pilates, a boot-camp workout, and a hydroponic farm where they grow organic vegetables. With children’s activities on the schedule during holidays, the place is decidedly more family-oriented than Cap Juluca. I signed on for the sand-and-surf workout, led by a Nordic jock named Peter Vasilis. Though I was surprised to be the only one who showed for the class, I got a great workout from beach running, lunging, and push-up drills and sprints in the water. The pitying stares of the other guests, for whom The Da Vinci Code and a beach chair were far more appealing, suggested that this program might be a hard sell. I stayed around for a yoga class, attended by one other couple, but when the husband turned beet red while reaching for his toes, the session suddenly devolved into a series of mild stretches. The yoga teacher moonlights as a Thai-style masseuse, and this form of “passive yoga,” in which the therapist twists your body into various positions, was a more worthwhile hour, given at CuisinArt’s modest but well-appointed spa.

Spa-tacular: The brand-new spa and fitness center at Malliouhana.

(Photo: Malliouhana)

I made side trips to Malliouhana Hotel & Spa, the most old-world of the resorts on Anguilla, and Temenos Villas, which currently has only three villas (four bedrooms each), ranging in price from $30,000 to $35,000 per week, but is being expanded. Malliouhana has opened a 15,000-square-foot fitness center and spa complex with bamboo floors and thoughtful touches like heated tub backs and toilet seats. Massages come with your choice of New Age, jazz, or classical music, and in addition to a large gym, there are classes in yoga and chi gung. At Temenos, the fitness center is small but equipped with state-of-the-art machines, and each villa has its own pool. The digs are rock-star-worthy, impeccably designed, and stocked with every tech toy a guest could want—the antithesis of Cap Juluca’s unplugged vibe.

But going off the grid was the goal, and back at Cap Juluca, I eased into the program with a traditional body scrub—a stimulating ginger-scented “rice and spice” version is available, but I went for the more vigorous salt exfoliation. Like the resort’s massages, available for singles or couples, it was performed in my room, because the truth is, there isn’t much of a spa facility here. This actually turns out to be a plus, as you can fall asleep right in your own quarters, among the purple orchid flowers the therapist strews around the massage table and in the shower.

Next, I scheduled a session with Hubert Delamotte, Cap Juluca’s astrologer, whose ultralong waxed handlebar moustache gave him an Inspector Clouseau cartoonishness. After lifting my mood by telling me I was a “magic woman” to whom good things happened, he advised that I see an osteopath. He had divined that one of my legs was shorter than the other.

Starting to feel physically freakish, given my head-birth situation and my irregular legs, I decided I could use Thierry Liot’s “Soul Awakening,” a mystical healing process that dates back 2,000 years. “I saw the priestess,’’ insisted a man who had just experienced the treatment, but he conjured for me nothing more than the dazed Rick Moranis in Ghost Busters. My trepidation turned to relaxation as Liot began with a normal Shiatsu-style massage, releasing pressure points, first in the feet (a sole awakening), working up to the neck. Next he applied crushed gemstones to my chest and began vigorously rubbing that area. “When the soul leaves the body, it takes a left turn, then flips,” he explained in a thick French accent. Whatever, I thought, and began to slip into a dreamy state, when I was suddenly jolted by chants of “Maaameeeloonn . . . Maaarooosheeee.” I looked up to see Liot, eyes closed, flailing his hands over my body while uttering these strange sounds.

“What are you doing?” I asked with some alarm.

He replied that he was “imitating the path of the soul” as it left my body.

Not wanting to think about leaving this mortal coil while on vacation, I ended my session. The next morning I opted for the good old gym circuit with Cardigan Connor, which turned out to be a great workout. Then I headed for a quick 50 laps in the pool, and met my friend for another swim in the transparent sea. We walked up the beach to one of the hotelÂ’s three waterfront restaurants for some sushi and sake, and returned to the room for massages. As we sat on the balcony, watched the sunset, listened to the waves, and took deep breaths of negative-ion-fueled ocean air, I realized that with a little self-discipline, a week at any of these resorts could indeed be a soul awakening.

The Details
The four-hour trip to Anguilla is relatively uncomplicated; American Airlines has flights daily to San Juan, where you switch to a prop jet for the quick jump to Anguilla ($519 to $607 round-trip between January 12 and May 23; 800-433-7300). On Anguilla, five nights at Cap Juluca, based on double occupancy with food and spa services included, is $7,690 (888-858-5822). At CuisinArt, the five-night all-inclusive spa package is $3,865 per couple (800-943-3210; 264-498-2000). Malliouhana offers an all-inclusive five-night spa package during April for $4,700; otherwise rooms are $590 to $1,120 per night, single or double occupancy, treatments and meals not included (800-835-0796; 264-497-6111). At Temenos, you get a personal butler, chef, and housekeeper for your money, but food and spa services are not included (264-222-9000).