We could all do with a break, is the loud-and-clear message behind wellness travel’s ongoing upward trend. But, with authenticity, connection and identity all shaping how travel might look in 2025, a soft-focused spa break won’t cut it anymore; today, wellness retreats must take you on an inner journey after the plane ride, using offbeat experiences and mindful introspection.
I’m considering my own internal shake-up on World Mental Health Day, a week before I visit wellness-focused Mallorcan retreat Es Racó d’Artà. In alignment with their B Corp values, Mr & Mrs Smith has given the company, including myself, the day off, to take stock of our emotional wellbeing, and I find myself navel-gazing by the moody British seaside, self-diagnosing the seasonal funk I’d found myself in. My takeaway from this time off was that my mental health requires more — for starters, it needs somewhere in the high-20 degrees Celsius at least.
Read the hotel’s rubric and you’re immediately implored to ‘breathe’; there are no alarming colours but many reassuringly wafty visuals, and it speaks — in an ASMR whisper — of ‘freedom’, ‘connection’, ‘choosing your own path’ (drop the mic, gently). It’s not a hotel, it’s a concept. Usually, my inner sceptic would clear her throat, but with various life-stressors rattling around in my chaotic-pinball-machine of a mind, I was willing to open up to some alt-wellness.
Alongside massages and meditation (every morning at eight o’clock, for free), there’s plenty of ‘force of nature’ to Es Racó — a vast undertaking of conservation, artistry, agriculture and Balearic pride, anchored to the restored 13th-century finca at its heart, gorgeously reworked by native architect Toni Esteva (who also designed holistic Indian hideaway Six Senses Vana), with the help of developer friend Jaume Danús. Around the 500-acre estate, the Llevant Natural Park runs primordially rampant; a comically long driveway (one kilometre from gate to reception) feels like a slow, scenic crawl into the subconscious, immersing you deeply in the green; and a natural fort of craggy, sleeping-giant peaks embracing the hotel make this feel like the safest of spaces (even if birds of prey sometimes circle overhead and the Mediterranean fracas of plant life often feels barely tamed). It’s a rare, raw beauty spot that I certainly feel privileged to stay at.
An electric golf-buggy rattles my husband and I up to reception and we’re invited into a space where quiet luxury manifests in white walls and linens, untreated wood, rough marès stone, curtains of thick sailor’s rope, jute rugs, traditional Llata basketwork and chicly contorted ceramics. On paper, it’s typically Mallorcan, but shaped with an artist’s eye, taking notes from the hotel’s collection of sculptures, textured art installations and monochromatic paintings (all made by island creatives); and authentic, too, a story of the hand-chiselled or -thrown. It’s pared-back yet glamorous, like the Pamela Anderson of now, with Crittall windows fitted into rough stone, an ancient olive mill as the centrepiece of one lounge; and, in our enormous casita, a veiled four-poster bed, an alfresco shower allowing one-on-one time with nature, and furnishings placed as purposefully as the art. Silence was Esteva’s inspiration, and at a whisper-quiet volume the design resounds.
It’s visual Valium, which also acts as a psychological blank canvas on which to outline a refreshed version of yourself; sketched out through the gentle coaxing of daily wellness activities, where — fair warning — things might get emotional. You could cathartically pound clay at art therapy, focus your mind on weaving a palmito basket, vibrate yourself cheerful at sound-healing, or give your consciousness a leg-up at psychedelic breathwork. My own path to wellness is a bumpy one — literally — when on my way to the former pig-sty, now an elegant soft-play area for the soul, where meditation and yoga are held, my flip-flop sends me flying on a wet paving stone (hot tip: the ones provided in your room have better grip). I thought even Es Racó’s powers couldn’t heal my mortification, but I discovered how staff embody the hotel’s caring nature — throughout the stay, they all check in on me, and whenever I approach a downward incline alone, a gentlemanly arm appears out of nowhere.
But, that morning, shame is forgotten through the rhythmic dance of kundalini breathing and yogic contortions. Afterwards, I join local maker Claudia to craft a dreamcatcher. My inner cynic is reminded of incense-choked stalls in Camden Market near my London home. But the class is what I imagine a — less troubled — A-list rehab to be. The group sit in a comfortable, busy hush on a sunny terrace, privy to the kind of scenery you actually might write home about — if only to annoy those drenched in British rain. And I rediscover the creative laser-focus I thought Covid whiplash had fugged up, as I string sparkly beads and polka-dotted guinea-hen feathers onto a wicker frame, resulting in something that — in my opinion — wouldn’t look too out of place hanging in the hotel. Neither Claudia nor I speak much of each other’s language, but I do learn she danced with a travelling folk band in the 1980s. ‘Any wild stories from the road?’ I ask — I can’t tell if it’s lost in translation or she’s lost in some risqué reverie as she sighs and gazes at the scenery in silence.
My husband and I swim in the infinity pool that seems to float all the way out to the hazy lavender seam of sierra in the distance, hovering above citrus, olive and almond groves; soak in the Jacuzzi; and realise the sauna is of the very relaxed kind as a fellow guest drops their towel and goes full-frontal (when in Europe…). There are more, less awkward surprises in the spa, which hammers wellness home with its heavier-duty offerings: signature floating watsu sessions, acupuncture with quartz crystals, craniosacral massage and even meetings with a nutritionist or certified integrative-medicine practitioner (the hotel is a certified medical centre), depending on how well you want to feel.
We’re soothed to our cores by the time we head to the Beni Axir restaurant’s terrace — where tables are low-lit by lights hanging from olive-tree branches — for apéritifs from the list of natural Mallorcan wines (we select a cider-y Son Llebre and sparkling Brutal). We make bliss-stoned eyes at each other over a meal where ingredients come with a short bio: salt from Es Trenc; olive oil from the house mill; bread made from heritage xeixa grains the hotel preserves by cultivating. Meals are healthy(ish) in a way that doesn’t feel so, with dishes such as almond soup with amberjack and melon, black pork and peaches, an ensaïmada-pastry sorbet… Dining is a bite out of the island, but also an ode to the sensual abundance threaded through the estate, from the groaning trees and nascent vineyard (whose wines are due in 2025) to the rosemary bushes everywhere, sprigs of which are infused into the water offered at check-in and left on your pillow at turndown.
Simplicity brings serotonin hits here, too. The hotel works hard to keep its environment this pristine: energy comes largely from solar panels and heating is geothermal; wastewater is recycled; materials used in the newer buildings (all of which are carefully aligned with the contours of the land) were reclaimed from the original farmhouse; and an on-site farm offers honey, eggs and more (plus donkeys to stroke). Naturalness is a running theme, from bath products to uniforms. So it’s a pleasure to reap its eco-efforts while enjoying the true luxury of time free to waste, perhaps on a day-bed, flipping through the many art books, or ambling down the leafy track to not-overly-discovered beach Cala Torta.
When we reluctantly check out, we feel very well indeed (aside from some light posterior bruising following my tumble). But mentally buoyant and spiritually edified too, thanks to Es Racó’s delicate art of weaving Mallorcan culture, artistic intuition, environmental engagement and serious spa soothing into something magical you’ll take home with you, and which your future travel dreams might well get caught up in.
Get a Balearic boost at Es Racó d’Artà or at more mindful stays in Mallorca
