Monday 1 October 2012

Never detox with a lover...

Right. If you’re gonna go somewhere to detox, go alone.  Seriously.  I often think, when I go away and stay solo in these lovely hotels with fabulous rooms and ginormous beds that it’s all a…bit of a waste really.  But, y’know, if you’re gonna do a serious detox then, just trust me on this one, you really truly don’t want to have your ‘other half’ with you.  
Can I just pause a moment here to ask whether any more disgusting a term exists? Other than ‘better half’ which is plain vomit-inducing.  Boyfriend? Yeah, fine if you’re a teen. Partner? All a bit worthy somehow, a bit old socialist, a bit ‘Brighton’, if you get my drift. Honestly, the main reason Adrian and I got married was because of the whole ‘what do we call one another to other people’ thingy once we moved out into the country to a village that really didn’t ‘get’ the ‘partner’ thing. And the word 'lover' was used in a totally different context. J

And, if you’re in a new relationship?  Excuse me while I choke quietly on a linseed cracker. Er…no.  Just…no.  I don't often tell people what to do but...

Why? Because detoxing ain’t pretty. It really ain’t.  Unless you’re so squeaky clean that really, you don’t need to be there in the first place, you’re going to look and feel like total shit – at least for the first few days. 

‘Oh God,’ said Lizzie (the other journo here, who arrived yesterday and is still in shock). ‘Is it just me?  All this juice is giving me the shits something rotten.’
‘Nah, it’s not just you,’ I said, sipping another pistachio green concoction and feeling my guts gurgling afresh.

Right there you have it. I don’t need to give you more detail, right?  Would you really want to be squitting for England (or wherever) while, not only your beloved, but anyone at all is lounging on the bed next door?  I suppose it’s always an issue when you stay in any kind of hotel: the etiquette of how not to listen when someone is having a crap a few feet away from you.  But, seriously, it’s way worse when you’re detoxing.  Most detox places don’t even have TV to mask the symphonics (to be fair, Ti Sana does).

So? You're totally sanguine about the shit side of the equation?  Okay, so let me warn you that you get spots – even people who don’t get spots (like me), get spots.  Added to which you get crashing headaches, and I mean real stompers.  I don’t drink coffee so I figured I’d be fine. Wrong. Oh so wrong. Yesterday I had the roadworks on the rush hour M25 going off in my head – it was pounding so badly that I couldn’t even face supper.  I just crawled back to my room at 8pm and shivered under the sheets until sleep decided to take pity on me.  And now you're thinking, yeah but, y'know, spots, looking like crap, that sounds like how I am most the time, what?  

Well, of course, some people just go a bit mad. ‘I tell ya,’ said Lizzie, as we waited for our ‘Angel of Water’ treatments (I’ll spare you that right now). ‘I am Evil. Evil. Bitchin’ evil.’
‘Hungry and hormonal? Not a good mix.’
‘You didn’t make the rebounding class. What happened?’
‘Hmm,’ she said with a guilty grin. ‘Mario was in danger of getting a smack in the gob if he’d tried to get me doing anything.  I needed to go to my room and just BE ALONE.’
Yeah, I hear you, girlfriend.  We had a little whine and a laugh and then went off with our respective therapists. 

But she had it right.  Truly. No matter how much you love your 'partner', no matter what kind of squalid slob you are at home. No matter what...detox solo is best.  Cos, above all, regardless of the spots and shits and all, the last thing you need is sharing a room with someone going through the same stuff as you. Solidarity?  Nah. There is no solidarity when you have to race for the bog. 

Yes, it’s great to have a laugh and a bit of empathy going with other people who’re going through it with you but – in a small spa at least – you’ll usually find the other guests are all too willing to share their anguish and boast over the level of misery they’re enduring. But sometimes you just absolutely have to hide away and feel deeply sorry for yourself.  So, if you absolutely must go in tandem, take a good female friend (one you already know looks as bad as you do without makeup while severely hungover – cos, believe me, that’s how you’ll be looking).  But, even so, never ever EVER share a room.  

Okay. So.  Glad we’ve got that sorted.

Agree?  Or not? 

PS - I should point out that I'm not remotely hungry...Lizzie is starving cos she's on a juice fast and normally eats EVERYTHING. I am being fed so much food I seriously can't finish it.  I tell ya, if you're scared of being hungry on detox, this is the place to come.  


Rachel Selby said...

I saw documentary about a group doing this in Spain. The spa even suggested that the one couple take separate rooms for the detox part. Apart from anything else, you need immediate access to your own bathroom facilities at all times.

Exmoorjane said...

@Rachel - spot on! What was the name of the Spanish spa, do you remember?

Sessha Batto said...

I live in a house with one bathroom (and yes, the door does not shut) a husband AND a teenage son - trust me, they have seen me in states that makes a good detox seem downright welcoming. That being said, the thought of listening to my husband moan, groan and whine about how shitty he felt would be enough to land me in jail for (justifiable) homicide ;) So, I agree, detox alone (right now - ANYTHING alone sounds good!)

Rachel Selby said...

I don't remember but it was 2-week detox, juice fasting, coffee enemas, etc... Each participant had a particular health problem that the spa claimed they could cure without drugs. Everyone seemed to be cured in the end except the guy with extreme excema - they threw away his steroid creams and he was a mess, all his hair fell out. So they persuaded him to stay a further two weeks I think as they said he needed more time. Don't know what happened to him in the end. said...

this has made my day x