By Debra Bokur
The shingled coasts and velvet hillsides of Wales – called Cymru in the musical Welsh language – have long been a source of health and wellbeing
Sheep, knee-deep in wildflowers, turn their heads languidly as I climb the path through the meadow. It’s lambing season, and countless pairs of dark eyes peer curiously from beneath small wooly ears as I pass. In the distance, the sea sparkles, resting at the edge of a promontory capped by a crumbling castle. Centuries ago, wise Welsh healers known as the Physicians of Myddfai shared this land with knights and kings. Today, the healing protocols they established, including a vast knowledge of the land’s mineral-rich springs and native botanical medicines, are enjoying a renaissance in popularity, forming a bridge from past to present.
Wells and Gardens
Further along the road lies Conwy Castle, considered one of the greatest fortresses of Medieval Europe. Not far beyond this magnificent structure is Bodysgallen Hall and Spa, where I’m spending a few idyllic days. Once the castle’s watchtower, this lovely 17th century estate is surrounded by parklands and vast gardens that include rare box hedges of fragrant herbs – all under the attentive care of head groundskeeper Robert Owen. Near the entrance to the gardens, I follow a pathway leading to an old stone farmhouse-turned spa, where my therapist, Nerys, treats me to a facial with a rich algae cream that quickly restores my flight-dry skin to a rosy moistness befitting my luxurious surroundings. The full service spa features Molton Brown, E’Spa and Clarins products, and includes a steam room, sauna, pool, and comfortable lounge, where open windows allow the perfume of the estate’s gardens to fill the air.
After a dinner of grilled vegetables, goat cheese flan and a selection of pear puddings, I spend the early evening strolling among the winding paths of the astonishing gardens, parking myself contently on the bench of an Asian-style pagoda with an exquisite view of a corridor of cherry trees in full bloom. Later, from the comfort of my room, I sit and gaze out the window at the towers and turrets of Conwy Castle. When I drift off to sleep, I dream of enormous white sheep that sing to me in deep, melodious voices. Whether the dreams are the result of my surroundings or those delicious pear puddings shall forever be a mystery. (Bodysgallen Hall, Llandudno; www.bodysgallen.com)
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