The road from Bangkok to Hua Hin runs mostly flat, bordered by coastal plains and stretches of cultivated land. Coconut palms and tamarind trees line sections of the highway, cutting through rubber plantations and casuarina groves. As I approached its coastline, the air grew salty and humid; the steady breeze a consolation in the tropical heat.
I’ve been visiting ChivaSom Hua Hin, a wellness resort located a three-hour drive from Bangkok, for a decade now, although this was my first visit after its revamp. As always, I entered through a pavilion bordered with areca palms and went straight towards the pond, where I fed large shoals of koi—a ritual I’ve always followed. Chiva-Som’s recent renovation has sharpened its identity of Thai minimalism without diluting its essence. The architecture, once traditional, is now even more pristine and contemporary, with open lines and lighter palettes framing the resort’s gardens and water views. The communal areas, such as the dining room and consultation spaces, are more spacious. I was delighted that the result was not opulence, but low-key refinement. The retreat serves the idea of the pause.
My mission on this three-night stay was a gut reset. Surveys show that seven in 10 urban Indians report digestive issues, with 59 per cent experiencing them weekly and 12 per cent daily. Among adolescents, around 15.85 per cent suffer gastrointestinal disorders, while cases of inflammatory bowel disease are on the rise—with over 2,70,000 recorded in 2019, a number that’s quadrupled since. I clarified health concerns to my health and wellness advisor in an online consultation before my arrival; she put together a programme that highlighted a colonic cleanse.
I secretly worried that the colonic cleanse might feel more like a medical procedure than a spa treatment. On the afternoon of my treatment, on my second day at Chiva-Som, I was apprehensive: would the procedure hurt? Would it be uncomfortable? Yet the moment I stepped into the treatment room, my concerns dissolved. The space was hushed, low-lit, and infused with the faintest hint of lavender oil. In the corner, almost invisibly, stood the compact hydrotherapy machine; it looked more like a piece of finely engineered equipment than anything medical or intimidating. Its design was self-contained, a closed system that promised discretion and hygiene. My therapist explained that it would regulate the flow of warm, filtered water into the gut in measured cycles, with every detail—temperature, pressure, and volume—monitored in real time.
My therapist’s presence transformed the experience. She was calm, professional, and graceful. As the session began, she remained by my side, explaining each stage with clarity and a dose of humour. At moments when I felt a tremor of tension—just as more water gushed into my body—she gently massaged my calves and thighs, distracting me from the feeling of a bulging abdomen. She had the air of someone whose natural professionalism erased all awkwardness.
As I lay on the bed, I watched the machine work in cycles from the corner of my eye: a gentle infusion, a pause, and then a release. Rather than feeling forced, my body seemed to respond on its own, encouraged by the rhythm of the process. With each cycle I felt a little lighter, as if layers of sluggishness were being quietly but firmly cleared. Every time I felt like the process might be too much, the therapist calmed me; she understood both the science and the emotional complexities of caregiving.
By the end of my session, I noticed not only a physical shift—a flatter, calmer abdomen and a clarity in my gut—but also an emotional one. An energetic shift, as though a low-grade tension or ancient trauma had been whisked out of my body. I walked out of the treatment room with a lightness in my step that stayed with me through the rest of the day, and for weeks.
I arrived home to India, profoundly changed. Days later I sat in my garden after a monsoon shower, and I wondered if the cleanse had shed some sorrow lurking deep in me.
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