In the decades I’ve been covering spas and wellness, authentic and indigenous healing, I somehow (and quite mistakenly) believed I had tried every possible treatment. In India, wearing only a loincloth, I laid face up on a neem wood table as coconut oil was applied to my hair, a hand-mixed herbal paste to my face, hot oil to my body, and cinnamon-infused droplets were placed into my eyes and up my nose. In South Africa, I rode three hours (one way) into the bush to meet a Shangaan healer who — wearing a red wig and ceremonial beads — ‘read’ my emotional and spiritual health by tossing lion and leopard bones onto a cloth (like dice onto a board game). In France, wearing paper panties, I stood in a tiled wet chamber as my fully clothed therapist mercilessly sprayed me with a high-pressure hose (the water tapped from natural hot springs); she later pressed my legs into inflatable boots — rapidly pumping air into them to stimulate blood and lymph circulation. I’ve been massaged, ladled with flowers, bathed in grapes (at a Bordeaux winery) and cheese whey (in a rain barrel on a Swiss Alp). I’ve gone days without solid food (liquids only), had cupping and colonics, acupuncture and face peels. I’ve sweated in wood-burning saunas and sweat lodges, rolled in snow and polar plunged into icy waters, and have been wrapped head to toe in seaweed.
But SE Spa at Grand Velas Riviera Maya surprised me.
Driving the highway from Cancun to the resort, located just outside of Playa de Carmen in Mexico’s lush ocean-meets-jungle scape, I have clear expectations for my stay. Just a few months earlier, I had visited sister property, Grand Velas Boutique Hotel Los Cabos, an adults-only, all-inclusive hotel, and I am hopeful to find the same spacious suites overlooking the sea with terraces dripping in pink bougainvillea. And I am not disappointed. In Riviera Maya, the visual — of azure sea against white sand, lush green palms, and pops of pink — is breathtaking. Yet, after stepping inside the resort’s zen-like spa, set deep in the jungle (watch for coatis, monkeys, and ever-elusive jaguar), I spontaneously spend the entire day. The spa is that good.
Guided Water Ceremony
The experience begins with a guided, hour-long water ceremony — a blend of hot and cold, steam and ice rituals. After welcoming me with a tincture of strawberry and kiwi, Aurora, a lithe, soft-spoken spa attendant, guides me through the timed water circuit; first stop, the sauna where cucumbers are placed over my eyes and I’m given the choice of a five-, seven-, or ten-minute bake. Cool down comes in the bone-chilling ice room where I douse myself with crushed ice and apply an aloe vera exfoliant (body) and conditioning masque (hair) before making my way back into the heat, this time into the circular steam room, a swirl of humid,foggy mist. Next comes a cold, then hot, then cold-again experiential shower (complete with twinkling lights and tropical rain sounds) before moving to two trough-style reflexology water paths, one side warm, the other hot. Here, I’m instructed to walk the waterways three times, back and forth, before finally submerging into the central waterfall pools lined with powerful shoulder massage faucets and in-water, carved-stone chaise loungers. The grand finale comes in a brief hot-tub soak and frigid cold plunge before changing into a shorts set— elastic hugging each thigh — my uniformed attire for the spa’s signature Úumbal shawl massage.
Shawls, Limes, and Yucatan Honey
While the SE Spa treatment menu includes all of the core healing treatments savvy spa goers seek and expect — deep-tissue massages, body scrubs and wraps, and results-driven facials — I am immediately drawn to the traditional Mexican offerings, and specifically to two (separate) 80-minute treatments: the Úumbal shawl massage which includes stretching similar to Thai massage (hence the pantaloons), and the organic kaab honey experience, an infusion of Yucatan honey (via body scrub, bath, and massage). Unable to decide between them, I choose both.
Seated, feet in a porcelain bowl filled with millet — the texture, surprisingly soothing and relaxing — April, my therapist, places a hot stone on my face and neck, then pours water over my hands, a Mayan blessing, before explaining the treatment. “The shawl, or Mexican pashmina, is an ancient technique with roots in pre-Hispanic methods. We use it here to stretch and align the body, and cleanse the energy channels.”
Over the next 80 minutes (and for days afterward), I feel the treatment’s balancing effect. Moving effortlessly between feet and legs, arms and shoulders, hips and torso, April performs a series of wrapping and tying of the shawl — using it to gently push, cradle, pull, and stretch me. Limes (to increase pressure) blend with warm copal oil, taken from a sacred Maya tree, to massage. At one point, I feel a light sweeping motion from head to toe and a familiar scent (fresh basil) as April brushes the fragrant herb bundle over my body — in a traditional barrida (sweep).
The organic kaab honey experience is equally intoxicating. Honey has long been sacred to the Mayan culture, with bees considered to be a connection to the spiritual world. The Mayans believed that honey — infused by the energy of the sun and taken from flower nectar — carried nature’s vital energy.
My treatment begins with the drizzling of warm, fragrant Xtabentun honey (completely edible and drawn from the nectar of the Xtabentun flower, a species of morning glory) onto my legs, arms, hands, feet, back, and torso to hydrate. After a warm rinse to remove the gooey skin softener, I move to an awaiting hot bath laced with an elixir from the Mayan Chaka tree, to which April adds heaping spoonfuls of honey before gently placing a cold towel over my eyes. The treatment ends back on the massage table where I’m pummeled with a white tea and honey cream (body); royal honey jelly (face). I smell (and feel) divine.
Beyond the Spa
As impressive as SE Spa is, it is not Grand Velas Riviera Maya’s only immersion. The all-inclusive, three-hotel resort is also — for those staying at Grand Class — surprisingly romantic. Adults-only, Grand Class features 90 ocean-facing suites (with plunge pools and terraces), an exclusive beach area and pool, and is home to Michelin-star restaurant, Cocina de Autor, by chef Nahúm Velasco alongside renowned chefs Mikel Alonso and Bruno Oteiza.
Other notable onsite restaurants (all part of the stay) are Frida, named for famed artist Frida Kahlo, serving classic Mexican cuisine (including crickets, grasshoppers, and a roving top-shelf tequila trolley); Piaf (named for French singer Edith Piaf and reminiscent of 1940s Paris with its dramatic Swaroski crystal curtains), Sen Lin (Asian fusion) and Lucca (Italian). There are also Mexican wine tastings and chocolate pairings, a Mexican honey sampling with homemade breads and regional cheeses, an eco tour (to the resort’s onsite cenotes and organic orchard), snorkeling and diving trips, several gyms, yoga and pilates classes.
For me however, the highlights are the gin-clear Caribbean Sea and the unexpected SE Spa. Already, both are calling me back — the sea for more languishing soaks and hip-deep thalassotherapy walks (the water is very shallow and calm); the spa for more Mayan-inspired treatments such as the Xkalim gourd treatment. Beginning with a Mayan blessing honoring the four elements: water, air, earth, and fire, the treatment is said to renew energy by collecting (into the gourds) everything in the recipient’s energy field that does not belong. As with the shawl massage, a barrida (sweep) is performed; in this case with alcohol on a bouquet of herb-of-grace (common rue), while varying sizes of calabash gourds — perfect for autumn — are rolled across the body and on reflexology points to release tension.
Featured image courtesy of Grand Velas Riviera Maya and Velas Resorts
