Dror is a prime example of the “health trippers” –type-A professionals expanding their minds and muscles on vacations that try to teach them how to relax. In the past five years, the number of yoga classes in U.S. health clubs has nearly doubled. Now those tired of sweating it out in a stuffy gym at 6 in the morning are taking vacations that are as much about breathtaking vistas as taking deep breaths.
Yoga used to be considered a cult rather than a lifestyle. Yurts in the wilderness attracted serious students to spartan meditative marathons where alcohol and other pleasures were enthusiastically banned. The food was awful. Only the insects in the woods got to enjoy a decent meal–you. Today, well-heeled practitioners on these new luxurious retreats try to balance philosophy with fun. “In the ’70s yoga instructors thought austerity added to the experience,” says Satyam Nadeen, who owns Pura Vida and the Maya Tulum retreat in Cancun. “Now people want wine with their meals.” And down pillows and rooms with views of the ocean. “The serious students aren’t going on these trips,” notes Maty Ezraty, who runs Yoga Works in Santa Monica, Calif.
Think Gucci, not Birkenstock. Yoga trips now include Hawaiian hideaways and centuries-old European homes, with such amenities as maid service and private chefs. “I did do some Christmas shopping,” admits Amery Burleigh of Santa Barbara, Calif. She spent $1,595 (air fare not included) for a yoga week at the Locanda del Gallo country estate in Umbria, Italy, but can’t bring herself to say what she put down at the Prada outlet a short drive away. “It was retail therapy,” says Amy Ippoliti, the instructor who approved the nontantric shopping trip.
Ascetic facilities like the Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health in the Berkshires still host serious old-school retreats for large groups. But the upscale set values intimacy. The new yoga vacations have a small handful of participants for each instructor. Jim Hollister, an ad executive in Boston, has tried both large and small trips. He says four days of yoga, followed by massages and gourmet dinners at Jamaica’s boutique Round Hill Estate–all in the security of a small group–allowed him to drop his facade as a busy executive.
The famous spa Canyon Ranch, in western Massachusetts, just built a new yoga facility. Dan Howard, the “spiritual-awareness coordinator,” has seen yoga interest “grow immensely” and says yoga classes are the best-attended at the ranch. Utah’s Cliff Spa at Snowbird ski resort atop the Wasatch Range has been strengthening its yoga offerings since 1997. “Yoga is a good way for athletes to get a good stretch,” says the spa’s Nicole Lundstrom.
For many, yoga means spiritual nourishment. But for others, it’s just, well, nourishment. Barbara Muller, a Seattle tax preparer, went on a yoga retreat to Maui with her sister Pat, a Virginia banker. After a week of feasting on gourmet desserts like chocolate decadence cake topped with whipped cream, Muller acquired more than deeper understanding. “I gained two pounds,” she says.
