Detox, Donegal Style by Jini Reddy

A windswept corner in County Donegal in the north west of Ireland might not strike one as the ideal backdrop for an adventure spa – the weather is fickle – but a 42-year-old Irishman, Aidan Boyle, is giving it a whirl. If anyone can make it work, he can. After all, he’s the man who started up the original ‘bikini bootcamp’, in Brazil five years ago, a venture popular with high-achieving types and masochistic celebrities, turned on by the gruelling exercise regime.

Six months ago, Boyle decided to swap the rainforest for the green hills of his native Donegal. With barely a breather, he has launched what he calls the Body and Soul Experience, three and seven-day retreats which offer a mixture of yoga, hiking, cycling, massage, and fresh, healthy food.

‘The weekends are a chance to kick-start a drive towards a healthier lifestyle, while the idea on the seven-day programme is to provide a transformational experience. It’s about de-stressing, and spending quality time focusing on your fitness. It’s not meant to be hardcore anything,’ says our host.

In other words, bikini bootcamp, it ain’t. Being neither masochistic, nor keen on morphing into a toothpick, this comes as a relief – a sensation that, alas, is short-lived. I’ve signed up for the weekend programme, but so too have a trio of fitness-mad females.

How mad, you ask? Well, one has completed the Marathon des Sables – a hellish footrace across the Sahara, another is a fitness and detox junkie (in fairness, she is the director of a company that specialises in spa tourism), and the third is a former athletics champion from Slovakia.

With sinking heart, it occurs to me that group dynamics may be more of a factor in rating the weekend a success or failure than endorphin-boosting exercise or energising foods. But our Irish host is a quietly supportive presence, the antithesis of the bellowing drill sargeant. He also possesses the patience of a saint, no doubt honed in encounters with skinny divas in the rainforest.

‘I can’t cope without coffee!’ shrieks the detox junkie (oh, the irony) on arrival. Her outburst is foiled with a quiet word: mainline caffeine if you must, but in the privacy of your room.

Our base is the four-star Harvey’s Point Country Hotel, which sits on Lough Eske, beneath the Bluestack Mountains. It’s a peaceful, remote location, and there are more sheep here than humans. But our rooms are stately and come with all the mod cons, including a whopping bathtub and widescreen plasma TV. The staff wreath us in smiles, and we have access to room service – if we want to go off the rails, well we can.

After a brief settling-in period, it’s straight into our first yoga class. Boyle teaches a style he calls Astanga Vinyasa, and he inspires confidence. The postures are flowing but gentle, and there is an element of meditation and breathwork too, which I relish. None of us are novices, but sessions tend to be geared to beginner level. ‘Even advanced students can learn something from the basic postures,’ says our host.

If I’ve not yet earned the in-room massage that follows – a real treat – I happily submit to the firm hands of therapist Joanne Travers. Much as I’d like to flop in bed afterwards, there is still dinner to get through, a three-course meal that looks as though it might be the work of a miniaturist: oat cake with anchovy and sunblush tomato, scallops and thimble of risotto, and aubergine curry. It is all lip-smackingly tasty. ‘Hunger makes a great sauce,’ quips Boyle.

Don't be put off by the word detox. The food is more gourmet vegetarian cuisine (with a fish option), than celery sticks, but low-cal it is. As for the thorny issue of weight loss, says the Irishman: ‘It’s bound to be a residual effect of all the activity, but it’s not the goal – it’s the feel-good factor that reigns.’

A 6.30 am wake-up call the next morning ensures I make it to yoga – there are two classes a day – without missing a beat. Breakfast afterwards, a bowl of porridge and prunes, and ginger tea in the cosy reading room, sets us up for our first, four-hour hike, along the Bluestack Way (which takes its name from the mountain range within our sights.)

It is raining buckets outside and hailing, so on goes the waterproof kit. Ray Flynn, Boyle’s charming brother-in-law joins us, and buoyed by a bit of new (male) blood, our collective mood lightens. The trail is easy to navigate, leaves burnished an autumnal red and cold carpet the hills, and we deftly sidestep patches of bog and grazing sheep. En-route, we peer into the ruins of an old dancehall.

On a hilltop, we eat lunch: a cup of homemade tomato soup, and two pieces of fruit. Weirdly, the soup alone leaves me full. But ten miles on, wet and stiff, I’m knocking back carrot and ginger juice and squirreling away nuts, our afternoon snack. That I still have energy to spare for the afternoon yoga session comes as a great surprise.

The pace is cranked up a notch or two the next day, when a 45-minute scenic drive along a stormy Irish seacoast leads us to the foothills of Slieve League, the highest marine cliffs in Europe, some 2000 feet above sea level. Gale force winds of 75mph – the worst in fifteen years – mean our slow, blustery ascent is halted after three miles. Tougher still is the two-hour cycle ride in the hills around the lake on the last day. I finish long after the others, Boyle cycling by my side, clucking like a mother hen, but finish I do.

By the end of the weekend, I’m feeling a heady mixture of virtue and relief. Best of all, barriers have broken down a little and confidences swapped. ‘The weekend has made me realise I need exercise to stay sane,’ says the Slovakian. Despite (or perhaps because of) several pots of contraband coffee, the spa junkie has chilled out, and the extreme fitness addict is looking, well, extremely fit.

The verdict? A week later, I’m sleeping like a log, I’ve binned the junk food, shed three pounds, and feel more cheerful than I have in ages. What’s more, my encounter with the Irish countryside has left me hankering for a return visit. One that preferably involves a pint and a visit to the pub – well, you need a reason to detox, don’t you?