Rustic by the pool

As someone who listens to music piped into her ears, my ears perked up when Eric Hallin, general manager of Sila Evason Hideaway in Samui, mentioned the words “sound therapy”.

“Would you like to try it?” he asked in his Hallinesque way ie slow, soft and measured.

“Sure,” I said without missing a note. “How does it work?”

“Well, you lie there and she plays the didgeridoo and Tibetan bells,” he said, without raising an eyebrow.

“Sounds good.”

So there I was in one of those private spa villas at this back-to-nature resort, waiting for the sound therapist Tamara, a Canadian native who’s found her place in the sun in Samui.

I had heard lots about Sila Evason Hideaway before I went there. I had had mixed reviews. One friend said, “I wouldn’t pay to stay in such a basic place.” Another raved about the simplicity and minimalism of it.

Sila Evason Hideaway is not everyman’s cup of resort. I can imagine it working with Europeans and Australians – but not the Russians who, I believe, would check out the day they check in. Some Asians, sick of the concrete jungle they live in, love it – I saw a couple of Singaporeans and Japanese there.

Room with a view

Me, I loved it. I like the sand. The wood. The way it is built into the hills. The nooks and crannies you find as you walk around. Its restaurant, Dining On The Rocks, is on nine levels. One drawback is you have to walk down to the beach but from what I saw, most people spend their time by the pool and if you’ve got a private pool villa, well, who needs to venture outside?

Mostly, I like the staff. My butler, Anne, is the sweetest girl. She’s so anxious to please. Personally, I have reservations about butlers. Sometimes (most of the time actually), I just like to be left alone and some butlers can try too hard.

There was a time in Sri Lanka when I felt so overwhelmed by the butler that I had to adopt avoidance tactics, like not making eye contact when we spoke in case he thought it was an invitation to tell me about himself.

Yet you feel you ought to be nice to them because well, you’re a nice person and everyone’s just trying to please.

Anyway, Anne had the right mix of enthusiasm and discretion. She knew when to be there and when not to be there.

She wasn’t there, of course, at my sound therapy session. First, Tamara explains what sound therapy is. Sound, she says, can unblock your energy flow. And if you direct that sound to where you feel tightness and pain, it will blast its way through the blockage.

Then, she shows me how to meditate using sounds – something like AEIOU. After this recitation, I lie down, close my eyes and think about … well, it’s supposed to be nothing but the urban, working mind is hard to pin down and silence.

Go towards the sound

The low, mournful vibrations of the didgeridoo then fill the room. Tamara walks around with it. I like it best when she plays it close to my ears and all over my body. I can almost feel my body vibrating and humming along, and wanting to dance.

I think I fell asleep though because when I woke up, she was pressing certain points on my body. Then she rang the bells. The higher pitched tones, instead of jarring my senses, strangely soothed them further. I felt like a very sleepy Hunchback of Notre Dame in love with the unattainable.

When the session was over, I had a hard time getting up. I felt as if my entire body had gone over to the other side. Anyway, I spent the rest of the evening in a state of euphoric contemplation and watched the bees pollinate the flowers from my sala by the sea.

The stay must have so relaxed me that when I was waiting at Samui airport to board my flight, I heard the PA announcing my name and saying someone was waiting outside for me.

Curious, I went out and saw a very apologetic Anne. “I am so sorry, but I think I forgot to ask you for your key.” Notice how she took ownership of my mistake.

“I am sorry,” I said as I dug into my bag for my room key. “I forgot.”

“No, it’s my fault,” she cooed. Then she gave me a cheeky grin and whispered, “Can I tell you a secret?”

Curious, I nodded.

“I googled you. I read your articles. I am so proud to have served you.”

Yes, it was the butler what did it.