Health > Articles > Alpine Grass Torture

A roll in the hay might be known for having all sorts of general therapeutic benefits, but in Austria they have managed to turn it into a medical speciality. There they take hay baths, using the grass from the high Alpine meadows in the treatment of maladies.

It has long been known that high Alpine grass has potent qualities. Any plant that grows in sunlight with such a high UV content needs to be strong. At 6000 feet it grows packed with proteins, starches and essential oils and Arnica, lavender, balm and thyme besides.

It’s a touching idea to think that the tradition originated when farmers were in the high meadows in the summer, cutting the grass for winter cattlefeed. Apparently they would weary themselves cutting the hay but then, having slept in it overnight, they would wake up refreshed and rejuvenated, their bodies unaffected by the strenuous work.

Eventually, in the Tyrol and Bavaria, ‘hay baths’ were developed as a treatment for rheumatic and muscular disorders. It was first recorded in the early 1800s. Apparently Beethoven used it as a cure for his oedemic legs. More recently the use of hay has been extended into the field of health and beauty.

I suppose I ought to admit a certain ambivalence about weird and wonderful treatments. I don’t even feel much restorative benefit from a massage. But this one set my antennae aquiver. A bath in grass!? Irresistible. I was informed that besides the beneficial effect on my joints, I could look forward to general purification. The toxins would be drawn out of my muscles and skin, and I would be left feeling good. Oh, and apparently I would become thinner too.

The treatment has varied a little since Beethoven’s day. Where he stuck his feet in a dry sack of the stuff, it is done wet now. The beauty therapist, her white shirt and trousers protected by a plastic pinny (it’s a pretty messy business altogether), lugged in a hessian sack full of grass, sat it in a bucket under a warm shower, mixed it thoroughly and then left it to steep for a while, a bit like a tea. Apparently this encourages the oils to release from the grass and makes it less scratchy. With the steam, a musty smell of farm rose in the white-tiled treatment room. Next she spread a layer of wet hay onto the treatment platform - nobbly grass, seeds, flowers and a few tiny vines.

Not being used to this sort of thing, it was a bit of a shocker to be ordered to strip off and lie on my back, exposed to the world. Obligingly the first clod was used to cover my vitals. Then I was sprinkled from neck to toe with warm and fusty vegetation. A plastic sheet was folded on top, enclosing me in a warm, slightly scratchy cocoon. Only my face, quizzical as it was, remained poking out. I was ready to mulch my way to general health.

My prescription was 20 minutes at 42 degrees. With an electronic clunk and a hum, the platform lowered, leaving me suspended on the skin of a water-bed, with the gurgle and slop of liquid movement around my ears. The lights were dimmed and the warmth of the heated water suffused the cloak of ticklish clippings.

It is the warmth, and sweating, that allows the curative treatment to work on degenerative conditions in the joints and bones. And the stimulated circulation helps to seep the oils into the skin. And the purge, well that works in the way of a mud-pack, detoxifying.

Meanwhile, I simply dozed off, and dreamt of being chased by a group of spear-throwing Alpine warriors, presumably because of a particularly obstinate piece of grass that was sticking into my left thigh. Suddenly, with electric light and another clunk and hum, the platform came up and it was all over. Time to take a shower. I cascaded with tiny leaves, seeds and shards of grass. Unsurprisingly I was still finding them three days later.

Who knows if I was purified. There was certainly no affect on my belt of lard. Still, I’d recommend the feeling of tripping out into the winter Alpine air after the treatment. Even if it wasn’t exactly a roll in the hay, I was left with a frisky feeling of well-being, and an illogical but entirely satisfying good humour.

Articles

• More from James Henderson
• More on the same theme